#yes comments make my world go round

[saltandfire-blog]

Because I can’t like this post and not reblog

I admit I’m a whore for feedback too.

let’s talk, shall we?

it’s no secret that tumblr writers have been leaving or deactivating their blogs, especially in the last year or two. and i think the reason why is even less of a secret.

the fact that writers have to practically beg for feedback and interaction on a site where they post their works for FREE is ridiculous. the fact that most of the people who are reading and consuming these works don’t even spare 10 seconds to add a nice tag to their reblog (if they even bother to do that) is borderline enraging. this is tumblr, not instagram or twitter. likes on tumblr do nothing for the writer. i don’t care if you think that it helps them appear in the tags, or if you think that seeing yet another “___ liked your post” is encouraging to them, because it doesn’t and its not.

and speaking of likes, why is the ratio of likes to reblogs so fucking huge? and before you think i’m being dramatic, lets take a look at some of the notes from my own works.

at the time of me writing this, my one-shot, dream lover, has 821 notes. that’s pretty good right? but let’s see how many are empty likes and how many are reblogs.

769 likes.

52 reblogs.

out of those 52 reblogs, 35 of them are empty. no tag, no comment.

one of my reactions currently has 2,038 notes. you may be thinking that’s a lot, which it is and i’m incredibly thankful for how many notes i’ve gotten on it. but how many are likes and how many are reblogs?

1,924 likes.

113 reblogs.

out of those 113 reblogs, 81 of them are empty.

one of my headcanons currently has 1,110 notes.

1,069 likes.

41 reblogs.

28 of those 41 reblog are empty.

why is it so hard to reblog things and give feedback?

“oh but it won’t fit my blog theme!” if you’re so fucking concerned about what your precious tumblr blog looks like, then send an ask. they’re just as appreciated.

“i don’t know what to say tho!” we’re not asking you to be shakespeare. if you’re really that no thoughts head empty just put a keyboard smash, if nothing else.

“but i’m shy and embarrassed!” the anonymous option is there for a reason, and most writers have it turned on. being shy when you have the option of keeping your identity a secret is no excuse.

and yes, i’m aware that some writers don’t have the anon option on, which brings me to my final point.

stop. demanding.

if a writer has requests open, be a decent human being and use your manners. going into their inbox and saying “____’s reaction of this.” is no way to request something. saying please, thank you, or even “hey, could you do a reaction of _____?” is a thousand times better than just telling them what you want them to write.

writers spend hours of their time and energy to write things for you to read, and leaving an empty like is meaningless to them.

if your liked a writer’s works, reblog them and maybe add some nice fucking tags while you’re at or send an ask to them about it. because sooner or later, after so many likes and barely any interaction, more and more writers are going to leave.

stop making them desperate for any spare crumb of interaction and start leaving feedback if you love these writers so much.

[deikshen]

Shen Qingqiu who, while Shang Qinghua is recovering from some random poisoning (that demon has already died at the hands of Mobei, don't worry), is forced to spend time with Mobei-jun.

At first it's tense. He arrives, a mandatory tea out of politeness. It's usually frozen. They don't have much to talk about or anything in common except their concern for Shang Qinghua.

Except they do have in common. At some point, perhaps, Shen Qingqiu mentions some rare beast, and Mobei-jun comments that he killed a couple of those. That leads to the first long conversation the two of you can have.

The next time, Mobei-jun brings back the beast's fangs. The two return to their conversation about monsters. Mobei-jun speaks little, concisely, but he talks about how to kill those beasts, the properties of their organs, the functioning of their poisons. Shen Qingqiu shares his bestiaries and provides additional information.

Then, even when Shang Qinghua improves, Shen Qingqiu usually takes advantage of the time when he has to stay in the northern palace with his husband to, well, expand his bestiary. Mobei-jun also seems to be passionate about flora that can kill, or anything huge and dangerous. Shen Qingqiu enjoys their conversations and learns to get more than just a few words out of Mobei-jun's sullen mouth.

Of course, he actually tells Shang Qinghua:

"When your husband isn't being monosyllabic, it's a good conversation" he says simply. "I didn't know he knew so much about flora, monsters and strange beasts. When I find a rare flower and can't remember its name, I'll ask Mobei, not you."

Shang Qinghua laughs a lot at that.

"Ah, I think that's because, well, you know, inspirations and all that..."

Shen Qingqiu looks at Shang Qinghua very curiously.

"Inspirations? You created your perfect husband from scratch. Who did you get your inspiration from, Airplane bro? Spill the tea, let's see the vicious tastes of this shameless author."

Shang Qinghua laughs a little foolishly.

"Well, you see, I had this classmate in college. A very rich guy" Shang Qinghua makes a funny face as he buries in the past. "He was cold and monosyllabic, even hostile to those who were rude, but hey, he could give you an infodumping of all the monsters in The Witcher without even doing research. I heard him do it once and, man, that guy was crazy" and Shang Qinghua continues talking while, as if by omen, Shen Qingqiu begins to feel a strange sensation of vertigo. "He was kind of cute, well, not exactly my fully type, he was very tall but lacked many muscles, but he had the biggest and prettiest resting bitch face I've ever seen on anyone even my king. He always wore all those fancy clothes that cost the same as my apartment rent, those silver accessories, rings, necklaces, bracelets... His hair was also kind of long, now that I think about it, and when he wore it down it was, god, a delight. I liked him a little. He was my college crush." and Shang Qinghua shrugs, laughing. His cheeks are red and Shen Qingqiu feels that his own ears are red, too. "Cucumber bro, it's actually a bit silly. I remember this boy's last name was also Shen."

That... That's the last straw.

"You-!" and Shen Qingqiu finds himself hitting him with the fan before he realizes it. "How-? What the hell!?"

"Ow, ow, OUCH, Cucumber bro!! What's going on?!"

Shen Qingqiu feels his face burning. His hands tremble over the fan. What the fuck!?

"... Bro?!"

"That classmate of yours" Shen Qingqiu hisses, just to confirm "His name was Shen Yuan?"

Shang Qinghua blinks, confused, recalling his thoughts. Suddenly, his entire face lights up with a wide smile.

"Oh, I forgot!! Yes, that was it!!" and his gaze becomes mischievous. "You met him, too?! He was a delicious little thing, honestly, a nice round butt, he... OUCH-"

"He was me" Shen Qingqiu hisses, opening his fan and hiding behind it. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. Of all the people in the world...!

Shang Qinghua gasps, looking like he was given some vital information. His face, contrary to what Shen Qingqiu expected, does not change into horror, but into mockery.

"Oh, bro" and starts laughing out loud "BRO"

"Damn fourth-rate author, what the hell is wrong with you!!!"

"Bro, BRO, I created a part of my husband based on you!! And you're married to my son self-inserted in a power fantasy!! It's like we're indirectly married!!"

"Fuck you!!"

"Ohh, how cute!! Do you want to jump to the honeymoon already?!"

"Get away!!"

Shen Qingqiu doesn't visit Shang Qinghua again for over a month. However, he does spend some time talking about monsters with Mobei-jun while his husband takes care of the demon court (in the time he would usually use to gossip and fool around with Shang Qinghua), it's just his thing.

[pretentious-blonde]

insecurity

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after you become closer to a certain metalhead, steve can't stop the insecurities that stem from his previous relationship. when it all becomes too much, you are left to deal with his outrage.

warnings: arguments, angst, steve is mean, panic attack (fluff ending ofc)

a/n: idk, this was supposed to be short and sweet but i got carried away!

The bell above you jingled as you entered Family Video, stopping briefly to glance around the shop for a certain brown-haired boy who had managed to capture your heart a little over six months ago. It didn’t take long to spot him, a grin plastered on his face as he stood behind the counter. With crossed arms, leaning his hip against the wooden edge, nodding along half-heartedly to whatever Robin was saying. She sat cross-legged on the desk, arms moving wildly as she spoke, her face lighting up as she noticed your presence. 

“There she is! Finally, I can’t tolerate this man for much longer,” she says with a huff, kicking her feet off the counter and pointing at Steve who was clearly not as into the conversation as she was. His attention hasn’t strayed from you since you came in. “Your turn.”

“Lucky for you,” he begins, briefly glancing in Robin’s direction, pointing back towards her as you rounded the corner to emphasise his point. “She tolerates me for hours.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you leaned into him, whispering a hello before smirking in Robin’s direction. “I’d say it’s more than tolerating,” you add.

Steve has a smug look on his face at your comment, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. You can feel the warmth he radiates through his jumper, his fingers finding your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

The moment between you both was swiftly interrupted by a loud gagging noise. “Okay. I’m third-wheeling. Gross.” Robin stated as she hopped off her makeshift throne with a huff.

You roll your eyes, still trapped in Steve’s embrace, not ready to let go just yet. “You sure you’re not just jealous Rob?”

“Pssh,” she scoffs as she throws a VHS tape from one hand to the other. “Sure. If I wanted someone who can’t alphabetise for shit, then yes. I’d be all over Harrington.”

“Ouch,” Steve pipes up from your side. “Also I don’t want to hear anything from you after what you did to the returns bin. It’s chaos.”

“Organised chaos, maybe,” she replies as she points the VHS directly at Steve. “My system is far superior.”

You glance over at your boyfriend, a look of disbelief at her previous statement, he was about to interrupt but Robin quickly changed the subject. “I thought you were supposed to come by here yesterday? Or was I making that up?”

“Oh, I was. But Dustin asked me last minute if I was free,” you tell her. “He introduced to to his friend—Eddie? I think he mentioned him before. We all hung out for a bit.”

The words slip out of your mouth naturally and a small smile graces your lips as you remember the day before. What you don’t notice is the way Steve stiffens beside you. His hand, which was fitted perfectly against your shoulder, tensed slightly. Unbeknownst to you. 

“Eddie?” He asks, forcing his voice to stay light and cheerful. He wouldn’t dream of dampening your bright mood. Not when you had gone out of your way to drop by and see him. Although, that fact did nothing to stop the unsettling feeling in his stomach. 

You nod enthusiastically as he pays you his full attention, admiring the way your hair bounces along with your movements. It briefly distracts him from overthinking, that is, until you open your pretty mouth again. “Yeah, you know Dustin—he’s always finding new people to drag into his D&D world. Eddie’s super into it, too.”

His jaw tightens, his smile falters and he hopes to god you don’t notice, masking it with a casual nod. Eddie Munson, he thinks and cannot help the bitterness he feels. Of course, he remembers the metal head from high school, Dustin had been mentioning him more too. He never cared about popularity, the social hierarchy. Just… did his own thing. No matter what others thought of him. 

Steve was all Ralph Lauren polos and Members Only jackets, tender smiles and sickly sweet kisses. Eddie was band patches and ripped jeans, unapologetic and confident. Not like Steve at all. The total opposite in fact.

He glances at you in the corner of his eye, then quickly back to the counter, the knot in his chest growing tighter. He knew, he knew, he was reading too much into it, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Especially after Nancy broke his heart. It was only when he met you that it began to heal again. 

Is that what you’re into? The carefree, rebellious type? While Steve has spent his entire high school career trying to fit the mold, Eddie has smashed it. And what did he have to show for it? A washed-up ex-popular kid working at a video store? Not a lot, clearly.

“So… what did you guys get up to?” He asks, fiddling with the pen on the desk, trying to act as indifferent as possible. 

“Not much. Just hung out, talked about D&D for a bit,” you reply with a shrug. “Dustin thinks he is some kind of genius when it comes to that game.”

Robin chimes into the conversation, unaware of the tension radiating from the brunette next to you. “Well, if you’re into D&D Eddie is the go-to around here,” she tells you. “It sounds like you’re his next recruit.”

Steve’s laugh is forced this time, and you notice it, a small frown appearing on your face. He curses himself internally, quickly leaning over to place a kiss on the side of your head, a reassuring gesture for the both of you. “Sounds fun,” he says softly. “Maybe next time I could tag along.”

Just so he can see what Eddie’s intentions are, see if he is testing his luck with you. He has already lost one girlfriend to another guy so it seemed like a normal thing to investigate. Nothing weird about that… right?

You laugh and shake your head, patting his broad chest playfully. “Trust me, Steve, you don’t have to do that. D&D is certainly not your thing.”

He deflated at your statement, even though it was definitely true. He lets out a chuckle to ease the insecurity he is feeling. “Yeah, I’ll leave the nerd stuff to Dustin and Eddie,” he says, trying to play it off as nothing serious. 

You see the sad look that penetrates his features, mistaking it for him just feeling left out. You grab his hand and give it a small squeeze. “Am I still alright to come over to your tomorrow? Evening sound good?” You ask, hoping he could see how much you still wanted to spend time with him, despite your new friend.

“Of course, angel,” he replies, completely melting at the soft tone of your voice, looking up at him with those gentle eyes of yours. You could probably make him do anything with that expression on your face. He can’t resist stealing another kiss from you when you look like that. You smile up at him as he reluctantly pulls away. 

“Okay, great!” You wave as you make your way to the door, bell ringing as you open it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watches you leave until you are no longer visible, the tightness in his stomach easing ever so slightly at the thought of having you all to himself tomorrow. Just him. His girl. 

As soon as he turns around, Robin is smirking directly at him, arms crossed across her chest. “So, what’s the deal with Eddie?” She asks, her tone teasing. “You gonna join Hellfire now?”

Steve rolls his eyes at her, already dreading the incoming round of quips. “Hell no, I’m not touching that stuff.”

“Aw, c’mon Steve. I think you would make a great dungeon master,” she doesn’t even bother trying to hide the laugh that is bubbling in her throat. “You certainly are dramatic enough for it, you know? ‘King Steve’ and all that.”

“Yeah right,” he mutters, growing more irritated by the second. He usually had all the time in the world for her jabs, but currently? The tapes in his hands were the most interesting thing in the world to him as he tried to brush her off. “I’m retired from the whole ‘king’ thing, remember?”

She grins as she leans across the wooden counter, standing on her tiptoes to get closer to him. “True, true. But at least we know Eddie is pretty chill now, we don’t just have to take Dustin’s word for it.”

There it is, that name again—Eddie. He says nothing as he grabs more tapes off the side. Not that it served any purpose, just anything to keep his hands busy and mind preoccupied. 

“I mean, I have never really spoken to him,” she continued as she paced the shop floor, stopping only to place another VHS in her ‘newly organised’ returns section. “But he’s got that whole ‘rebel without a cause’ thing going on. You know? It’s pretty admirable.”

Yeah, I know, Steve thinks sourly. That’s precisely the problem. He does know. The free spirit who never once cared about fitting in, or pleasing anyone, and now here he was—Dustin’s new best friend and the subsequent new guy in your life. 

“Yeah, well,” Steve forces out another fake laugh, just as badly hidden as the first. “Good for him.”

Robin turns to face him directly, noticing the strain in his voice. “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

Her question catches him off guard, fumbling with the tape in his hand and nearly dropping it. “What? No. Why would I be jealous of Eddie Munson?”

“Alright, alright, no need to get defensive,” she holds her hands up in surrender, her eyes still trained on him. “It’s just… I don’t know. You’re acting weird?”

He didn’t respond right away, focusing on a blank point between two VHS tapes in front of him, he repeated the question in his mind. Weird? He wasn’t being weird. Was he?

Shrugging his shoulders casually, he glances at the clock, suddenly wishing for the small arms to go faster so he could see you again—just the two of you. No Eddie. No distractions. Just you and him alone. Maybe then he could stop himself from spiralling. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind for the rest of his shift, not when he had seen this story play out once before, with him ending up on the losing side. 

Laughter filled the cramped space of Eddie’s trailer. Dustin had invited you over here a few hours earlier and now here you were, doubled over on his couch, clutching at your sides as Eddie continues his ridiculous story. “And then—then he turned around and slammed right into the closet door! Swear to God, I thought he was gonna be out cold!” He finished, completely in stitches at his own tale. 

Dustin was practically rolling on the floor at this point, teeth on full show as he tried to get his words out cohesively. “How did you find these people, Eddie?!” He gasped between his giggles. 

You were wiping away the tears from your eyes, way past the point of caring if your makeup was smudged. As you came back to reality, you glanced over at the clock, freezing completely as you registered the time. 

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, your stomach dropping. “Guys, I gotta go. Like—like right now.”

You immediately leapt up off the worn-out couch, grabbing your jacket in a hurry and shoving your feet into your shoes. You had about ten minutes to be at Steve’s front door and had completely lost track of the time. “He’s gonna kill me,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached for your bag. Even though it wasn’t true, it was more likely he would be moping around the living room, glancing at the front door every couple of minutes awaiting your arrival. Just sad that he couldn’t get to spend more time with you. Steve didn’t get angry with you. Ever. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his form still draped across the couch. “What’s the rush princess? Hot date with Steve?”

You briefly glanced over in his direction, looking increasingly flustered. “Well, yeah,” you admitted. “I was supposed to be there, uh, now.”

Before you could bolt out the door, you heard a groan coming from across the room. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll drive you.” Eddie rose from his seat and grabbed his keys from the coffee table in front of him, twirling them around his finger. “No way I’m letting you bike all the way there.”

You blinked in surprise at his offer. “Really? Are you sure? You honestly don’t have to—“

Eddie waved his hand in your direction, ignoring your concern. “It’s no problem. Besides, I’m not gonna be responsible for you showing up at Steve’s all sweaty and out of breath. The guy would kill me,” He shot a teasing grin in your direction as he headed to the door, holding it open as both you and Dustin ducked under his arm, heading straight for his van. 

The journey was easy, with Eddie being a surprisingly safe driver, music as loud as his personality. In between the heavy guitar riffs that thumped through the radio, he turned to you with a mischievous expression. “So… you and Steve, huh?”

You felt the blush rise to your cheeks at his comment, not getting a chance to respond as he continued. “I just meant you’re good together, you know? I never really saw him as the ‘settle down with a girlfriend’ type. But hey, they say love changes a person.”

You drew your gaze away from the passing trees, unable to hold the smile that had spread across your face. “Yeah, he’s—he’s really great,” you admitted softly. You could barely put into words how great he was without gushing, so that small line would have to do for now. If Eddie only saw how Steve treated you, both in public and private, all his questions would certainly be answered. 

Steve may not have had the same chaotic energy as Eddie or Dustin, but that didn’t matter one bit. Steve was… solid. Reliable. He made you feel safe. Made you feel cherished. 

The long-haired boy next to you shrugged, his tone still kind. “Hey, if Dustin likes him, well that’s saying something. The kid is picky when it comes to his friends.”

Dustin, now making his presence known from the back seat, spoke up. “Damn right!” 

As Eddie pulled up in front of the large house, he leaned over the centre controls, giving you a playful nudge. “Don’t keep him waiting any longer. I bet he is pacing a hole in the floor.”

You playfully glare at him as you pop the door open. “He’s not that bad.”

“Sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Well, tell him Dustin and I said hey.”

“Will do,” you replied as you hopped out of the van. You waved at the two of them as they began to drive away, heavy metal music blaring as they faded into the distance. Your smile from Eddie’s previous comment was still lingering on your lips as you bounded up to the front door, excitedly ringing the bell. 

What you didn’t see was Steve had witnessed the entire interaction from his window—your expression as you laughed with Eddie and Dustin, how you looked so at ease and comfortable around them. You hadn’t even known them for that long. The sight twisted something ugly up inside of him, insecurities that were larger than he knew. He didn’t know how to handle them, the thought of being left behind. 

The door swung open after a few moments, and there stood your Steve, leaning casually against the door frame as he looked you up and down. God, he was whipped. “Hey, there you are,” he said with that classic, easy, Steve smile, relief washing over him the second he laid eyes on you. 

You took a step forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist “Sorry I’m late.”

He chucked as he returned your embrace, sturdy arms enveloping you. “No worries, I’m always happy to wait.” 

The statement was true. Way too true, and that fact started to scare him.

You leaned up to press your lips against his, he was soft, familiar, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. He held the door open for you to step inside, the scent of his earthy cologne filled your senses. 

He followed you into the living room, watching you kick off your shoes, holding his arm out just in case you toppled over. He had made that mistake only once in the past, the bruise on your leg was huge. You’re clumsy nature may have been endearing, but he’ll be damned if you hurt yourself on his watch.  

“You didn’t ride your bike?” He asked, subtly trying to figure out exactly why you had gotten out of the familiar van. 

“I was lucky Eddie offered me a lift. I kind of lost track of time,” you said nonchalantly, kicking your shoes into the corner. 

His posture stiffened for the briefest moment at your confirmation. Honestly, he had hoped that what he saw five minutes earlier was just a figment of his imagination. “Oh, cool,” he forced himself to keep his tone light. “That was nice of him.”

You didn’t notice how fake the plastered smile on his face was as you settled onto the couch, already making yourself at home as you reached for the throw blanket. “So, what’s the plan for tonight hm? Movies? Snacks? Oh, did you order pizza?” You rambled, getting more excited with each question. It put his mind at ease a little bit to see you this giddy with excitement. If he let himself believe that he was the cause, maybe he could stop worrying. 

He beamed and moved to join you, resting his head against the pillows as he glanced down at your pure expression. “All of the above, sweetheart. But we are not repeating what you told me a few weeks ago that eating leftover pizza for breakfast was ‘nutritionally balanced’.”

You giggled as you unfurled the blanket, taking extra care to make sure he was fully covered. “It is balanced! Carbs, protein, maybe a vegetable if there’s a stray pepper.”

“Right,” Steve smirked as he drew out the word, trying to get on board with your reasoning. Reaching over for the remote to turn the movie on. 

As the credits for the cheesy rom-com rolled across the screen, you stretched your stiff body out.  You untucked yourself from his side, resulting in a frown from Steve, not quite ready to let you go yet. 

“I still don’t get why we always watch these,” you speak over the ending soundtrack. “All the girl ever does is swoon over the guy, ignoring all the red flags until it’s too late.”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch, placing his chin on top of it to give you his full attention. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his foot with your own. “Such a romantic.”

Steve blushes before turning away, giving you a casual shrug. “I just like them. Who knows, I could always start serenading you under your window, the whole nine yards.”

“Serenade, huh?” You chuckle, angling your head to lean against his arm. “Do you even know how to play an instrument?”

He drew his face towards you, scrunching his nose in your direction. “I can learn. Get some guitar lessons.”

Maybe you like guitar. Eddie plays the guitar. 

You giggle at the mental image of Steve strumming clumsily, tongue poking out in concentration, getting frustrated with the sheet music that would be scattered around him. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”

He runs his hand through your hair, admiring your soft features illuminated by only the TV screen. “You wouldn’t have to pay. If you wanted it, I’d do it for free.”

He meant every word. If it kept you in his life, he would practise until his fingers bled. 

“Has anyone told you how much of a sap you are?” You ask, but it lacks its usual teasing. 

“Yeah, but I’m your sap,” he replies, words overflowing with tenderness. 

You look at him closely. Really look at him. His loving smile falters slightly under your gaze, eyes flickering downwards to hide his expression more. 

Shifting towards him, you lay a hand across his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart quicken at your touch. “What’s wrong?”

Steve blinks, another smile forced, not quite reaching his eyes. God, why did you have to ask it like that? In a sweet tone, filled with concern. He thought he was good at lying. All those secret parties he held in his parent’s absence, brushing off their questions about various missing decorations that most likely had been broken. Nobody noticed when his heart was broken a few years back. When he could hardly drag himself to work. But somehow, you could pick him apart easily. 

“Nothing,” he lies, trying to brush you off. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

He sighs, his fingers tracing an aimless pattern on your shoulder as he avoids looking at you. “Just…us, I guess. Wondering if I’m actually good at this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing or if you’re just humouring me.”

The confession made him feel exposed. He regretted saying anything at all. 

You frown at his admission, “What? Why would you think that?” You can’t hide the shock from your voice. This is the same boy who kept your favourite tea stocked in his cupboard, the same boy who built your entire bookcase when you mentioned you were struggling with the instructions, the same boy who even phoned the doctor’s office for you when you were too scared to talk to the receptionist.  

He ticked every box and more, your heart broke for how he felt. 

“I don’t know…Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna screw this up. Like, if I’m just temporary.” His eyes are still glued to his lap, unable to look away. If only he didn’t have this much baggage. 

You furrow your brows, reaching up to cup his cheek, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes. “Steve, you’re not temporary. Okay? You’re not some placeholder to me.”

He leans into your touch, his hand covering yours for a moment. But even though he smiles softly at your words, the doubt still lingers in his eyes.

“I guess we’ll see,” he murmurs, the vulnerability heavy in his voice.

You sigh, realising this is a result of something more going on, but you still give him a gentle look. You have no problem reassuring him. You could tell him one hundred times how cherished he is without complaint. As many times as it took to make the message stick. If that’s what it took, you would gladly do it. 

Steve was buzzing as soon as he got off the phone with Kieth. His presence at the video store was not required today, and he had been planning how to surprise you all morning. Acting as giddy as a high schooler. He hadn’t had the chance to see you since you last hung out at his place and he really wanted to do something sweet. Not out of the lingering insecurity he was feeling, but he wanted to see you happy. Especially when it was because of him. 

He tried to go the extra mile today, waking up early and driving to the nice florist on the other side of town, just to make sure he got the freshest flowers. A little effort from him means a big smile from you—totally worth it in his book. The bouquet was huge, it sat in your usual place, in the passenger seat. He specifically chose your favourite colour as the wrapping paper, and the bow that secured it too. Smiling to himself as he pictured your reaction. 

Climbing the steps to your little apartment, something you were so excited to finally be able to afford with your job, his heart beat with anticipation. He easily fished out the spare key you had given him, smiling as the tiny keychain dangled from it—a tiny VHS tape you had been so proud to find at the flea market, insisting on putting it on yourself because it ‘needed some flair’. It was a thoughtful gesture, it made him feel warm whenever he saw it. 

Holding his breath to not make any noise, he unlocked your door and gently pushed it open, careful not to startle you. His eyes immediately landed on the couch—and his whole world froze. 

There, sprawled out on the couch, was none other than Eddie Munson. Looking the same as he always did, completely relaxed In his worn Metalica t-shirt and scuffed trainers. 

The worst part wasn’t just him. It was you. Your head resting in his lap, and Eddie was absently playing with a strand of your hair. He glanced up at Steve’s entrance and immediately put a finger to his lips, signalling Steve to stay quiet. His blood boiled at the gesture. 

“Shh,” Eddie whispered, gesturing to you. “She’s asleep.”

He was glued to the spot. What the fuck is he doing here?

Eddie carefully lifted your head off his legs, swapping himself out for a pillow, taking extra care not to rouse you. 

“Hey, man,” he greeted casually as he stood, stretching out his arms like this wasn’t the single most infuriating sight Steve had ever seen. “We were just hanging out, watching some trash TV. She was out like a light.”

His voice was still a whisper as he explained what happened, trying to add some humour to the situation. “Probably for the best, I mean. I can watch crappy shit all day, but even this was painful to sit through. No big deal.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. Hard. His grip on the flowers tightened until he could feel a few give way under the pressure. No big deal? You’ve got to be kidding me. He felt a surge of possessiveness course through him, igniting an anger he believed was dormant. His mind began to race, everything he had been trying to ignore had bubbled straight back up to the surface like a ticking time bomb. She is that comfortable to fall asleep on him?!

Eddie, completely oblivious to Steve’s thinly veiled fury, patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, but I gotta be heading myself. Wayne’ll be wondering where I’ve been.” He said, giving him a small smile as if this was a totally normal situation for the two of you. “Take care, man.” With that, Eddie slipped past him, closing the door silently as he exited. 

The apartment felt eerily quiet as Steve just stood there, staring at the door, trying to wrap his head around what the hell just happened. Unbelievable. He rediverted his attention back to you, still soundly asleep on the couch, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of him. He crossed the room slowly, as if on autopilot, mind a nasty mix of anger and jealousy. You fell asleep on Eddie. Eddie, of all people. How long were you two just... sitting there like that?

He took a seat in the armchair opposite, memories of the two of you trying to squeeze onto it now bitterly replaying in his mind. The flowers were still clutched in his hand, forgotten in his flood of emotions.

He didn’t want to acknowledge what he had just walked in on. His heart beat painfully in his chest. This is how it starts, right? He thought bitterly. Starts all innocent like this. I’ve seen this before. I’ve lived this before. His mind flashed back to that goddamn Halloween party, to the nights he thought things were fine, only to realise too late that he had been left behind—again.

Steve exhaled sharply, frustration gnawing at him. It’s happening. It’s fucking happening again. He was always second best. His parents, Nancy, Dustin, you. 

He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, the stems crushed from his tense grip. They were supposed to be part of a sweet surprise, a way to make you smile, but now... now they just felt like a cruel joke. With him being the punchline. As per usual.

He set them down on the coffee table and leaned backwards, his gaze locked on your peaceful sleeping form, his mind a mess. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. He was fuming—so mad he could barely think straight.

The room was in complete silence as you began to stir awake, reaching your arms above your head lazily. You blinked a few times as you returned to reality, the soft haze of sleep still lingering. You heard your back pop and you groaned at the sensation, falling asleep on the couch had been a terrible idea. 

You let out a brief yawn and look around for Eddie, but instead, your eyes land on your boyfriend. He sat across from you, arms crossed tensely, his expression neutral. He wasn’t smiling, which was odd for him. In fact, he looked angry. 

“When did you get here?” Your forehead crinkled in confusion, voice still raspy with sleep as you asked. “Where did Eddie go?”

Steve shifted in the chair, leaning back and spreading his legs further apart. “Eddie left a while ago,” he snapped, his tone was sharp and clipped. “I got the day off work.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” your brain still trying to piece the information together. “You should have called.”

He scoffed as he shook his head, a lock of brown hair escaping to rest against his forehead. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t aware you had other plans.”

You sat up straighter on the couch, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. His tone—he never spoke to you like that. It sounded frustrated, irritated. Like you had done something wrong. You wracked your brain trying to think of anything that would have upset him, eventually coming up short. Eddie’s presence here didn’t even pass through your mind, there is no way Steve would be that possessive. Could he?

“Steve…what’s wrong?” You asked cautiously, concern creeping into your voice. “Why are you mad?”

His brown eyes darkened, his face twisting with an expression you had never seen before. All the insecurity he had been feeling, all the unresolved emotions, came crashing to the surface in a wave of anger. It was frightening. He was frightening you. 

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” He barked out a laugh, one that was filled with no humour. “I come over here, thinking I’m gonna surprise my girlfriend. But instead? I find her asleep on the town freak.”

Your heart sank. He spat the words out as if they tasted vile on his tongue. You never knew that he could be this vicious, the foul name that just spewed from his lips made your throat tighten. “Steve, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice bitter as he continued. “You think I’m stupid? Like I don’t see what’s going on here? You and Eddie. He’s always around, and suddenly, you’re all buddy-buddy with him, falling asleep on his lap like it’s no big deal. I mean—Jesus, sweetheart—how dense do you think I am?”

“Steve, it wasn’t like that,” your voice broke as you struggled to speak. The nickname that had always been filled with such love was now venomous, you struggled to understand what was happening. Why he wasn’t listening? Why wasn’t he trusting you?

“We were just hanging out, watching TV—“

“Oh yeah? Just watching TV? Sure,” Steve spat, getting up to start pacing, the adrenaline coursing through his body was too much. His mind was racing, old memories resurfacing, ones that he would rather not think about only helped fuel his rage. He turned back to you, eyes wild with fury.

“Moved on pretty quick, huh?” He ran a hand over his face, voice dripping with resentment. “I mean, I gotta hand it to you, honey. But you could have tried a little harder before the secret spilt out eventually.”

Tears formed in your waterline as you tried your best not to let them fall. “How could you say that?” You took in a shaky breath. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” he pointed a finger at you. “Don’t act all innocent here. I’ve seen this shit before, okay? Little things that aren’t that little. Don’t play dumb, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not!” You protested, not caring about the tears that now flowed freely down your cheeks. “I love you, Steve. Please. Eddie is just a friend.”

He rolled his eyes, your pleading falling on deaf ears. “Yeah, ‘just a friend’,” he muttered hostilely. “Sure.”

His words cut deep, and you felt yourself crumble under the weight of them. You began to panic as you realised there was no way out of this. Not when he was so dead set on believing what he wanted. You could only stare back at him in disbelief, heart breaking at how trivial this argument is. 

“I thought you left this high school crap behind you,” you whispered, scared and unsure of how he would react. 

“Yeah, well, some things never change.” He shot back, his tongue still as fast as it had been back then. He mentioned how he was in school a few times in the past, but now you could really see it. The petty boy who would say anything in the heat of the moment. The boy who could pick the thing that would hurt the most. 

The room fell into a heavy silence, staring at one another, the distance between you growing more and more with each passing second. You could barely recognise the man standing only a few feet away. You wanted to reach out to him, plead with him to just stop. Go back to being Steve. Your Steve. 

“I can’t believe what you’re saying,” you managed to choke out, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper. “You’re hurting me.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, a brief flash of guilt flickered across his face at the sight of your tears. His beautiful girl was torn apart by what he was insinuating. But he was too far gone. His misplaced anger was the only thing he could feel right now, pushing him further. “Yeah well, now you know how that feels.”

A sob wracked through your body, his statement feeling like a dagger to your chest. He made his way towards the door to leave, his gaze landed on the stack of VHS tapes by the TV. He knew he should walk away, but a petty bitterness surged through him. He could never resist getting one final jab in. 

“Make sure you return those by the weekend. Late fees now apply, sweetheart.” He sneered, lips turning into a snarl. 

With that, he tossed the flowers he’d brought for you onto the table, the delicate petals now scattered across it. You stared at them, your vision blurred by your tears as Steve stormed out of your apartment. He slammed the door sharply as he left, making you flinch. 

As soon as he was gone, you collapsed onto the couch, finally allowing yourself to cry uncontrollably. You didn’t understand how everything had spiralled so fast. How the man who was so sweet, so kind, had turned into this.

On the other side of the door, Steve’s heart was racing, pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. He leaned against the wall for a moment and shut his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control as the rage he felt dissipated. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty, not over this. He didn’t jump to conclusions, not when the signs were so clear to him. 

He stumbled down the stairs and got into his car, foot pressing down hard on the accelerator as he drove away. Each mile felt heavier than the last. He couldn’t allow himself to question what he had said, besides, it was too late to take it all back now. What he couldn’t answer was why he felt so much more empty as he pulled up to his house. Alone. 

Steve pushed open the door to Family Video, the small bell above him chiming as he trudged inside. It felt like it was mocking him, only adding to his sour mood. He was fifteen minutes late, something that never went unnoticed by Robin.

His eyes looked and felt drained, dark circles framing his eyes from his obvious lack of sleep. The night before had been hell. All he had done was toss and turn, replaying the argument with you over and over again in his head until he was sick of it. His chest ached from all the emotions that were still swirling inside of him. Anger, sadness, and a terrifying amount of regret that he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

Robin was at the counter, tapping away at the computer when she saw him walk in. Her face lit up, clearly excited to spill something. “There you are! You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you. I saw Vicky at the movies yesterday and—“

“Rob, I’m really not in the mood today.” He interrupted her, rubbing a hand over his brows. 

The girl froze, her face contorting with confusion. Usually, Steve lived for gossip like this. In fact, he almost always begged for it.

“Wait…what? You were off yesterday. Shouldn’t you be, like, all refreshed or something? What, did you party too hard without me?”

He shot her a glare, making it crystal clear that something was wrong. Of course, being ever curious, Robin was not going to let this slide. 

“Oh, no. Spill it, Harrington.” She began, leaving the computer to follow his quick steps. “You come in late, looking like shit, and now you’re all moody? Did something happen yesterday?”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his messy hair he hadn’t even bothered to brush. Not willing to humour her at all today. “Robin, please—”

“Please what? I’m not gonna stop asking. C’mon, let it out. I’m all ears. I’ll even sit down for this one.” She says dramatically as she hops up onto the counter, crossing her legs, glancing at him expectantly as if she had all the time in the world. 

Steve groaned loudly. “Fine, fine. You want to know what happened?” He said, exasperated.  “I walked in yesterday, excited to surprise my girl, and guess what I saw? Eddie. Like, she had her head in his lap and everything. They were all over each other. It was disgusting.”

Robin scrunched her eyebrows as she processed his words. “Eddie? The Eddie Munson?” She squinted, looking even more confused. “Are we talking about the same Eddie here? The one who’s completely obsessed with Chrissy Cunningham? I mean, he’s had it bad for her for years. That Eddie?”

“What? Chrissy?” Steve frowned, pausing as her words sank in. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Robin tilted her head at him like he was an idiot. Which she would say was most of the time. “Uh, yeah? He’s been pining after her for, like, ever. He never had the guts to ask her out. Everyone knows that.”

She carried on talking as if this was common knowledge, which maybe it was. The knowledge was just not that common to Steve, apparently. “So Eddie’s into your girl now? Are you sure about that?”

He felt his stomach drop, trying to ignore the rising panic in his chest. “I mean… yeah. Pretty sure? He was, like, touching her and they were—“ He stopped halfway through his sentence, doubt now taking over. 

Was that really all he saw? Surely not. He couldn’t have gotten so mad about just that, there had to be more. Only, nothing really came to mind. 

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Touching her, huh? And that exactly happened? No skipping details.”

Steve scratched the back of his head as he tried to recall the events from the evening prior, his anxiety continued to grow as he spoke. “I saw him drop her off at my place the other day. She got out of his van, and they looked all… close. Then, when I went to her apartment earlier, I walk in, and there she is, asleep across his lap.”

Robin took a second to process what he was saying, speaking slowly as she tried to wrap her head around the situation. “So… you’re mad because she fell asleep with him on the couch? While watching TV? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat, immediately getting defensive, trying to prove that he wasn’t just overreacting. “Well, yeah, but it’s the way she was with him. It was just too… cosy.”

She could not believe what she was hearing as she stared at the boy blankly. “Dude, we do that stuff all the time. Like, every movie night.”

Steve's stomach twisted. He felt sick. “Yeah, but…that’s different. This is—” He couldn’t continue. There was no solid ground for him to stand on. The knowledge of that was overwhelming. Fuck. 

Robin narrowed her eyes, still determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “Okay, I still don’t get it. What did you do?”

He shifted uncomfortably at her questions, his guilt was building inside of him as the true terror set in. “I, uh… I may have been a complete asshole.”

Her eyes widened at the admission. “Define ‘complete asshole.’”

Steve’s hands shook as he brought them up to his forehead, slightly damp from his growing fear. “I called Eddie the ‘town freak’—fuck—and I—“ He paused and took a breath in, the consequences of his insecurities now coming into the light. “I told her we were over basically…she asked me to stop hurting her.”

Robin’s jaw dropped, feeling outraged at the way her best friend had acted. That was not something she could ever stand beside, no matter how close they were. “You what? Steve, that's fucking insane! I can’t believe you drove her to the point of even having to say that!”

The world seemed distorted as Steve became short of breath, he had to rest a hand on the counter to keep himself steady, the tight grip becoming painful. “I don’t know! I just—it all came out. I couldn’t stop myself—shit. What—what do I do?”

Robin started at him, completely stunned and equally irked. “Steve,” she said, the stern tone felt foreign on her tongue. “This is not just ‘I messed up a little’—you blew it, dude.”

He was breathing faster now, mouth barren, limbs turning slightly numb. The panic had now set in fully. “No, no, no. Don’t say that. I can fix it, right? I always fix it. I have to fix it, Robin. Please, help me fix it!” His voice increased as he got the words out, hands trembling in front of him. 

She looked at him, she was no less annoyed, but she couldn’t help but pity her friend. Especially when he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown like this. He was a wreck right now and needed someone. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll help you,” Steve sighed in relief, however, she wasn’t finished. “But I’m seriously not happy about any of this. If she doesn’t take you back, you have to deal with it, Steve. This is on you.”

Steve nodded frantically, hair flying everywhere as he clung to the small sliver of hope. “Anything. I’ll do anything. I can’t lose her, Robin. I just… I can’t”

She folded her arms, her face remaining stoic to show her displeasure with him. “Alright. We will think of something, and you better pray to God she hears you out. You have got a lot of sucking up to do Harrington.”

He muttered quiet a thank you, his heart not slowing down. He couldn’t afford to lose you, not over this, not because of his own self-doubt. Please, he thought to himself. Please for the love of God don’t let her leave me.

For ten long minutes, Steve had been standing outside your apartment, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at the shut door. Ten agonising minutes of him just waiting, stalling, trying to muster up the courage to raise his hand and just knock. He could have used the spare key that was burning a hole in his back pocket, but that wouldn’t be right. Not after what he did. He had to do this the right way if he had any chance of forgiveness. This wasn’t a situation that could be fixed with flowers or chocolates. He had spoken to Robin for the whole of yesterday, and they both agreed—he needed to own up to everything that transpired, to apologise, even if it was hard. Even if it was terrifying. 

Because losing you? That wasn’t an option. 

With a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the solid wood. The second he made contact with the door, his stomach flipped. He wanted to run. To turn around and bolt. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had too much to lose—you. The sweet, kind girl who had always made him feel seen, made him feel held. How could he walk away from that without trying? 

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, the sight of you nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. You’d been crying, that much was obvious. Your eyes were red, puffy, and filled with the hurt that he had caused. If that wasn’t enough to crush him, you were clad in one of his old hoodies—one he’d left at your place months ago. Seeing you wrapped up in something of his twisted the knife so deep that he nearly staggered back before he caught himself. 

You immediately moved to shut the door, not willing to let him hurt you more, but Steve panicked. “Please, please, angel don’t,” his voice cracked as he begged to be let in, his hand pushing lightly against the door, so desperate to keep it open. Desperate to not be shut out before he could even try to say sorry. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

You paused, removing your hand and gently taking a step away from the entrance. You crossed your arms as you looked at him, still visibly upset, your voice sharp but exhausted. The tone pulled at his chest. “You’ve got five minutes Steve. Then I want you out of here.”

He nodded eagerly, grateful for a chance, no matter how slim. “Of course, anything…I’ll take anything. Just…please.”

You let him in, both stepping further into the flat, his eyes immediately locked onto the sight of the coffee table. The flowers he picked up yesterday were still sitting there—petals scattered everywhere, beginning to dry up and wilt. 

You couldn’t bear to touch them after he tossed them there the day before, you had hardly left your bedroom due to their presence. A brutal reminder of what happened. He felt sick to his stomach with the knowledge of how badly he hurt you. How you couldn’t even deal with the ruined gift because they were tied to him. To the things he said. 

You fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie, now feeling embarrassed while wearing it, nervous as to what he could possibly say to make this right. If he even wanted to make it right. You honestly didn’t know. 

He turned to you, words catching in his throat as he tried to figure out where to even start with this. He had gone over this with Robin multiple times yesterday, but the sight of you completely threw him. 

“I—I’m sorry, angel,” he stammered, that was a good place to start, his voice as rough as he continued. “I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For not thinking. For not believing you. For… for making you cry. I didn’t mean to—I swear, I didn’t.”

You stood firm, arms not moving from their crossed position. You weren’t giving in easily, not this time. You had every single right to be upset. Steve has frightened you. He was mean and spiteful, lashing out at you instead of listening. His jealousy was ugly. 

He fumbled for more words, his hands beginning to shake. “I…I was an asshole, I hate that I hurt you. I just…I freaked out, okay? I thought—“ He stopped, swallowing thickly as his emotions threatened to choke him fully. “I thought I was going to lose you. Like…like I lost Nancy.”

Your expression shifted slightly, but you remained silent, allowing him to continue. 

His voice grew quieter, more pained. “Halloween, a few years back, Nancy told me I was just…bullshit. Jonathan swept in after that. And when I saw you with Eddie—fuck—I just—” He ran a hand through his brown hair, pulling harder at the ends as his frustration grew. “Eddie’s already got Dustin. He’s…he’s got everything. And I thought he’d take you too. And I just…I panicked. I know it’s stupid, okay? I was just—“

He was rambling now and he knew it, the words were tumbling out faster than he could stop them. He only had five minutes, he needed you to understand. To please understand him. 

“I was so fucking scared, honey. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realise that I’m bullshit. That you’ll find someone better. Someone who isn’t…who isn’t me.” His voice cracked again at his attempt to hold back the tears that clouded his vision. 

You let out a small sigh, your expression wary. You couldn’t let your guard down, not yet at least. 

“Steve…what happened yesterday was not okay. You hurt me. A lot.”

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice barely louder than a breath. “I know I did, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. I swear, I’ll be better. I’ll be so much better—if you’ll let me. You deserve everything, sweetheart. A-and I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just…please. Please let me prove that.”

Steve’s voice broke as the overwhelming dread overflowed, what had once been a gentle simmering below the surface now coursed through his entire body. No, he thought, It’s not working. It’s not fucking working.

His hands were quivering uncontrollably, his vision blurred as his thoughts spiralled. Everything was crashing down around him—the fear, the memories, the guilt. 

He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t lose you. Not you. 

“I—I can’t,” Steve stammered, his words short as they came out in small gasps. He backed up slightly, he didn’t know if he was scared of your presence or himself at this point. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m so—so fucking scared, I—“ 

His hands flew to his face in a weak attempt to hold himself together, his breath coming out in frantic bursts. His whole body shook involuntarily. Nancy, his parents, the same gut-wrenching feeling of being told he wasn’t enough. Wasn’t loved. That he was unimportant. Just temporary. 

You were stuck, rooted to where you stood, watching him unravel. And in that moment, you didn’t know what to do. The Steve you knew so well—the confident, charming, self-assured Steve—was crumbling before your eyes, his fear felt so raw, so overwhelming that it broke your heart to witness it. 

“Steve,” you say softly, moving towards him, but he couldn’t hear you. Not over his own mind. He was too far gone. 

“I can’t—fuck, I—“ His broad chest heaved as he tried to suck in air, but it seemed to do little to help. His hands shook violently, gripping at his tousled hair as he slid down to the floor, his back against the wall. “I’m gonna lose you, angel. I know it, and I can’t—I can’t do that again.”

“Steve,” you repeat, voice more forceful this time as you drop to your knees beside him. You reached out to him slowly, so as to not startle him, taking his unsteady hands in your own. “Breathe. Just…breathe with me, okay?”

He was trembling so much that it scared you, even more than he had yesterday. His breaths were coming out shallow and erratic, your heart ached to see him like this—so broken, so scared. 

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You kept your voice soft, soothing as you held onto him, your thumbs tracing small circles on his skin. You began to understand. “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The skin around his eyes was pulled taught as he squeezed them shut, he tried to follow your lead, match your breathing with his own, using it as a guide. “Just breathe, okay?” You repeated, you held your voice steady until his ragged breaths began to slow, becoming deeper and more even. 

It took a few minutes to get his trembling to ease, fingers still tracing gentle patterns, reminding him of your presence. His grip eventually loosened, but never wavered, he clung onto you like a lifeline. His head hung low as he tried to pull himself back together. 

You watched his chest as you knelt beside him, it rose and fell more calmly compared to a few moments ago. His large brown eyes flickered open as they focused on you. Red and glassy, filled with fear as he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“I’m so so sorry,” he spoke in a muted tone, barely audible as he turned his attention to your intertwined hands. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I—I needed to hurt you before you hurt me.”

Your stomach was in knots at the sight of him so vulnerable. Posture hunched over as if he wanted to disappear into himself. It broke your heart to witness. You squeezed his hands gently as you leaned closer to him. 

“Steve, listen to me,” you tell him. His eyes lifted to meet yours, amber and swirling with uncertainty. “I’m not going anywhere. But you have to talk to me, okay? If something is bothering you. If you’re feeling scared, you have to tell me. You can’t just take it out on me. It’s not fair.”

He shook his head and sniffed, rubbing his hand roughly against his eyes, trying to brush away the tears. “I don’t want to push you away,” he muttered, voice no longer as shakey. He felt his mind settle as the words flowed out of his mouth more comfortably. 

“I just… I don’t know how to do this,” he gestured between the two of you. “I’ve never been good at… at the talking stuff.”

For the first time today, you allowed a smile to play on your lips as you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I kinda got that,” you tell him. “You don’t have to be perfect. I just need you to be able to come to me, talk to me. Get out of your head. I’m always here.”

You tapped his forehead twice for emphasis as he exhaled slowly. The tension in his body had finally been released as he slumped against the wall. He brought both of your hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, swallowing hard as he returned them to his lap. “Don’t deserve you, angel.”

Leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes as you speak. “You deserve someone who cares,” you tell him as you pull back, eyes shining with pure honesty which soothes his shot nerves. “And I do. So, just…trust me. Even if it's hard sometimes.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t, sweetheart. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, looking at him with the tenderness he never thought he would see again. “You don’t have to apologise anymore.”

He nodded once more, your forgiveness was finally sinking into him, pushing the last bit of panic out of his system. He opened his arms, asking you silently if it was alright to hold you once more. 

You shifted yourself between his legs, allowing his arms to pull you into a tight embrace, bringing you close as if you might disappear again. Slip through his fingers if he let you go. 

You rested your head against his chest, tucked up tightly as his chin rested on your hair. You could feel his heart beat at a more steady pace. You placed your palm over it. It belonged to you after all. 

“I love you, you know that?” He asked as he held you against him, anchoring himself to you. 

“I know,” you respond, words slightly muffled by his jumper. “I love you too.”

You pull away slightly, meeting his eyes once more. The heaviness from the previous conversation had lifted, feeling relief flow through you as the warmth returned to Steve’s face. He wasn’t completely at ease, still very much shaken, but he could see a light at the end of the tunnel. The worst was behind him. And he promised it would only be up from here. 

“So tell me,” you began. You knew you needed to steer the conversation in a more light-hearted direction, not just for yourself, but for the boy whose lap you were in. “Was Robin mad?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Steve groaned as his head hit the wall behind him. At least he could walk into work with a smile on his face tomorrow. Tell her that he made it right…but maybe leave out the whole hysterical crying part. “She was ready to rip my head off after I told her what happened.”

“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled. “Good to know she has my back.”

“Guess I’m outnumbered,” Steve allowed himself to laugh, and God did it feel good to do it with you.

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t listen.”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough,” he winced, but managed to maintain a grin. “I think I’ll survive her wrath…maybe.”

“Maybe,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Gonna have to put in some work there then.”

“I am prepared to do whatever it takes,” he tells you with mock seriousness. “Even offer to be her wingman with Vickie.”

“Wow, generous,” you snorted. It would probably benefit him more, if you were being honest. He had been nagging her to make a move for months, her constant pining and inaction was starting to get to him. He had been giving her the same advice over and over. It was getting ridiculous. His words, not yours. 

“And, hey, maybe I’ll give Munson a chance too,” he tells you, glancing down with a playful expression. “Join Hellfire, see what all the fuss is about.”

The laugh that escaped you was loud, you shook your head at him. “Steve, you would be terrible and D&D.”

“Hey, I’m good at strategy!” He protested, not allowing himself to be insulted in this manner. “I’d make a great…uh, whatever they call the fighter guy.”

“You mean a barbarian?” You say teasingly. “I could see you as more of a chotic bard. Always trying to talk yourself out of trouble.”

“Yeah? You never know, I could surprise you,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your hairline. “For now though, I think I’ll focus on not screwing things up again.”

Your heart fluttered as you melted into him, securing your arms around his wide shoulders. “You’re on the right track, Harrington”

“Good,” he smiled at the nickname, placing his hand on your arm, the other on your back. “I don’t plan on going anywhere. And neither are you if I can help it.”

“Deal,” you say with a firm nod of your head. “No more freakouts, okay?”

He looked over your face once more, relieved that there were no more visible traces of the pain he had caused. Just his sweet girl smiling at him. Just the way he liked it. 

"I'll try my best," Steve whispered, holding you close. "I promise."

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE INTERNET! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when you flirt with one of his many rivals?

contents: fem!reader. playful jealousy, it's nothin' serious. toji flirts with you <3 chat continues to make fun of satoru + fortnite slander. pretty short but uh... anyways.

author's note: live laugh love streamer!gojo

"c'mon, satoru," suguru drawls, smiling at your boyfriend through the screen. "how'd you get eliminated so fast? you must've set a world record," he teases, poking fun at the way satoru completely bombed the last round.

you snicker from your spot on satoru's bed, and he turns and sticks his tongue out at you. satoru had convinced you to come over just a couple minutes ago, and any hope you had of doing your homework in peace flew out the window the moment he went live. 

"shut up," satoru huffs, turning back to his monitor and scrunching up his nose at suguru. the two are close enough for them to banter and insult each other without any fear of resentment. suguru laughs in response, velvety voice resulting in a burst of heart emojis from the comments.

"well, i gotta go," suguru sighs, leaning back in his dark, plush chair. he smiles and waves with a reminder of when his next stream will be before signing off. 

satoru spins around in his chair a couple times and scrunches up his face at the screen. "why are you guys still here?" he asks, ruffling his hair and raising an eyebrow. "y'wanna see my girlfriend again or something?"

the chat explodes with a flurry of yes's, so satoru swivels his chair around and looks straight at you. he looks at you expectantly, opening his arms and beckoning you. "c'mere, sweetheart," he says, voice singsongy and light.

"you're so annoying," you mumble, rolling over and hopping off his bed.

"and i'm all yours," satoru replies immediately, shooting you a cheeky smile. 

whenever you call him annoying or stupid or a clueless idiot, satoru responds the same way every time. and both of you know that you certainly can't do much better than your sweetheart of a boyfriend, even if he is the brattiest boy you know.

you run your fingers through your hair and walk over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder and waving at his camera. "hey guys," you say with a smile. satoru turns to his head to kiss your cheek affectionately, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

as you lean into satoru's embrace, you scan the comments. most of them are either hi's and hello's, but a select few make you laugh.

yuuji-itadori: they make me feel so single :( 

inumaki: brb im about to violently throw up

toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better tbh

satoru scoffs at the last two comments, jutting his chin out and glaring at the screen. "why are you two still here?" he huffs, pointing at the camera and narrowing his eyes. the hand on your waist tightens as satoru pulls you into his lap. "inumaki, don't you have a fortnite round to lose? and you, toji, i'm this close to blocking you from my streams!" he grumbles. 

the chat explodes with various expressions of laughter, and you can't help but giggle at the responses satoru's jibes get.

inumaki: kys

inumaki: whats wrong with playing fortnite??? most fire game ever fym

toji-fushiguro: im not here for u loser

satoru mimicks inumaki with a high-pitched voice and goes on a minute-long tangent of why fortnite is the one of the shittiest games ever, and eventually inuaki chooses to retreat with a last snarky comment before he disappears. then, your riled-up boyfriend turns on toji.

"if you're not here for me, who could you possibly be here for?" satoru snorts, resting his chin on the top of your head. his hands intertwine as he wraps his arms around you snugly, securing you on his lap.

the next message from toji catches you and satoru off-guard, but your reactions are entirely different. you laugh and smile bashfully, while satoru nearly knocks you off of him when he yells "what?!"

toji-fushiguro: i'm here for your pretty gf duh

before satoru can fire a thousand insults toji's way, you reach up and clasp your hand over his mouth. your boyfriend's eyes widen in the reflection of his monitor, and you have to suppress the urge to ruffle his hair and kiss him stupid. sure, you'll probably make out with him after the stream, but you think that it'd be even more fun to mess with him first.

"aw, you think i'm pretty?" you ask playfully, directing your words at toji. "i've seen you around," you muse, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with the hand not covering satoru's mouth. you smile coyly at the screen before continuing, "you're not so bad yourself, honestly."

satoru whines incredulously against your hand, and you can't suppress the laugh that slips past your lips. he bounces his foot on the floor impatiently, and eventually he reaches around you and quickly presses a couple buttons to end the stream. "baby, i love you but sometimes you drive me crazy," he grumbles, hoisting you over his shoulder as he stands up. 

"let me go!"

"okay!" he replies, dropping you on his bed with a cheeky smile. satoru's eyes narrow as he watches you scramble to sit up, and you puff up your cheeks indignantly. satoru plops down next to you and pulls you into his chest, face barely an inch away from yours.

"what was that?!" satoru whines, glaring at you sullenly. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt and juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.  

"satoru, are you jealous?" you snicker, leaning in and kissing his nose. he scrunches his face up and frowns, but the corners of his mouth seem to tilt upwards. satoru pulls you into a kiss and holds you there for a second, smiling against your lips. 

"no," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "i'm hotter than him, and i'm not a total asshole." he wraps his arms around your waist and nudges your cheek with his nose, clear blue eyes focused on your lips. 

"true," you agree, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace. satoru really is the best boyfriend you could ask for—everything about the two of you just works.

satoru pinches you gently and kisses your nose. "say that you love me."

you smile and close your eyes, suddenly more relaxed than you've been in the last couple days. "of course i love you, dummy."

"love you more, cheate— ow, i'm kidding, i'm kidding!"

[norrisainz33]

Best in Show || CS55 & CL16

☆ summary: charles’ sister is headed to the olympics and she’s ready to bring things to the next level with her fwb carlos

☆ pairing: carlos sainz & olympic!leclerc!reader

☆ f/c & warnings: none; slightly suggestive & terribly translated french

☆ requested: yes!! thanks for your request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

scuderiaferrari has posted a video

view all replies

user3: i don’t understand how all of the leclerc’s are so perfect and talented

user1: the leclerc brothers are so 🤤

user2: princess of monaco about to eat up the competition at the olympics

user8: wait that’s insane only 6 athletes? the uk sent 327… y/n must be really good

user2: she is!! she’s been to the show jumping world cup AND she won the jumping international in monte carlo (both huge accomplishments especially at her age)

user4: their genes are strong and full of sporting talent huh

user24: they should’ve gotten carlos in on this interview. he loves talking about y/n

user18: no fr he very clearly has a crush on her

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, visitmonaco, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 879,001 others

ynleclerc: did someone say ,, olympics? get ready to watch your favorite duo (me and [horse’s name]) take on paris 😉

view all 876 comments

user6: HI Y/N (louder than everyone else)

user7: she’s so unserious i love her

charlesleclerc: and why did you have to post the last photo

ynleclerc: because i love it frère [brother]

arthurleclerc: why didn’t i make the olympics announcement post

ynleclerc: bc you refused to put on the glasses bebe

user11: the royal family of monaco is so beautiful

juliaanalvarez: looking forward to seeing you in paris

ynleclerc: you better cheer me on julián

user88: ik carlos is shaking in his boots. he’s got competition it seems

user99: no y/n anyone but a soccer player

carlossainz55: congratulations on making it to the olympics y/n 😍

ynleclerc: thanks carly 🤭

user22: CARLY DNSKSJF

user18: i ship y/n and carlos so hard

use r23: day 124 of wondering why they aren’t together

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc, yourbff, landonorris, francisca.cgomes, and 534,230 others

ynleclerc: don’t worry everyone - the party has arrived in paris and we already made it through the first round 🇲🇨

view all 546 comments

user12: oh thank goodness (i wasn’t worried)! congratulations on an incredible first round

user13: what do i have to do to be that horse

landonorris: when are you gonna let me take a ride on ya?

charlesleclerc: mate that’s my sister

landonorris: i was talking abt the horse

ynleclerc: i hate you landonorris

landonorris: no you don’t ma cherry

ynleclerc: CHÉRIE

landonorris: 😘😘

user29: lando is so real for this

user24: impatiently waiting for carlos to get here

alexandrasaintmleux: the prettiest girl in all of paris. i am so proud of you 🤍

ynleclerc: please get your beautiful self here quicker 😫

carlossainz55: paris is looking real good these days 😍

ynleclerc: you should come find out just how good it looks 😏

user23: whoa get a room

arthurleclerc: please stop flirting

texts between you and carlos

ynleclerc has added to their story

view all story replies

user77: my god you’re gorgeous

user99: now who … sent you those flowers ms y/n? was it charles? was it julian? was it carlos? i won’t spill the beans if u tell me i promise

user34: i’m rooting for you y/n!! you and [horses name] are going to crush it

landonorris: i know i didn’t send you flowers… so who did?

ynleclerc: wait… you didn’t send these?

landonorris: y/n/n don’t play with me. was it him?

ynleclerc: yes 🤭

landonorris: I KNEW IT. so you guys together or?

landonorris: DONT LEAVE ME ON READ TF

charlesleclerc: y/n/n - i only sent you the white ones… who are the others from?

ynleclerc: my adoring fans!

charlesleclerc: arrête! [stop it] we both know that is not the case

charlesleclerc: just tell me who they are from. i’ll be cool about it

ynleclerc: no you won’t charlie 🤍

arthurleclerc: charles sent me - tell me who those are from

ynleclerc: no! hope that helps bebe 😘

arthurleclerc: are they from a certain spanish driver or an argentinian footballer?

alexandrasaintmleux: your brothers are insufferable sometimes…. but don’t worry i didn’t tell them who sent those gorgeous flowers 😍🤭

ynleclerc: my girl 😘

user87: wagering a bet that those flowers are from carlos

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, danielricciardo, yourbff, and 876,456 others

ynleclerc: obviously not the result i was hoping for. we tapped the last bar on the last jump as we were about to set the fastest time. i’m gutted but at the same time i am immensely proud of everything [horse’s name] and i have accomplished. we are bringing home monaco’s only medal from the entire olympic games and for that i am elated. i think i prefer silver anyway 🥈🤍

view all 789 comments

user67: being the reason monaco is getting a medal is still an insane serve

user87: my favorite horse girl

landonorris: a medal is a medal - proud of you punk

ynleclerc: thank you bobby

juliaanalvarez: congratulations on a hard won medal!

ynleclerc: merci julian! glad we got to catch up 🤍

user57: back!! back i said 🤺

carlossainz55: y/n/n you gave it everything you had out there and you have so much to be proud of. i am in awe of you

ynleclerc: carlos 🥹

user55: this is so sweet i’m gonna throw up

user23: day 145 of wondering why they aren’t together

arthurleclerc: good job or whatever sis

ynleclerc: thanks loser

carmenmundt: you are an absolute inspiration! congratulations on following your dreams and making them come true 🤍

ynleclerc: i love you so much carmen

charlesleclerc has made a post

liked by ynleclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly, scuderiaferrari, visitmonaco, landonorris and 987,654 others

charlesleclerc: we made it to paris in time to see y/n in the final event. ma petite sœur je suis si fière de toi. je suis pour toujours et à jamais ton plus grand soutien. [my little sister, i am so proud of you. i am forever and always your biggest supporter]

view all 999 comments

scuderiaferrari: congrats y/n on a hard fought silver! we are so proud of you

user16: wake up ! hottest photo dump of the summer just dropped 😭😫😍

user37: wow arthur is eating charles up in the 4th slide

ynleclerc: merci charlie. je t'aime jusqu'à la lune et retour. merci d'être là [thank you charlie. I love you to the moon and back. thank you for being there]

charlesleclerc: je t'aime y/n/n. i wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.

ynleclerc: btw who even invited pierre?

pierregasly: why can’t i turn up and support my favorite leclerc?

ynleclerc: i’m your favorite?

pierregasly: no , not even close

francisca.cgomes: i’m sorry y/n! he simply insisted upon tagging along 🙄

ynleclerc: i’ll let it slide because i got to see you my love 😍

user34: so special that they were all able to make it to paris

alexandrasaintmleux: my favorite girl in the whole world is an olympic medalist! monaco and all of us are so proud 🤍

ynleclerc: don’t make me cry 🥹

user76: monegasque royal family is my roman empire

ynlecerc has posted to their story

view all story replies

user55: I KNOW THATS MY MAN CARLOS

user87: you ain’t slick id recognize that hand and arm anywhere. that is mr carlos sainz jr

francisca.cgomes: your brother resorted to calling me to see if i knew who was in this post 🙄

ynleclerc: of course he did…. he’ll find out soon enough 🤭

charlesleclerc: anything you want to tell me? looks a lot like a teammate of mine

ynleclerc: nothing i want to tell you charlie :)

carlossainz55: had a wonderful evening with you mi amor. let’s do it again.. and again and again and again.

ynleclerc: i had an amazing time. i’m already looking forward to our next date!! you may as well just come back to my flat now idk why you even left in the first place

carlossainz55: didn’t want to come across too clingy

ynleclerc: good thing i like clingy! get back here 😏

carlossainz55: yes ma’am

user27: begging to know how much charles and arthur are stressing over this story

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourbff, carlossainz55, carmenmundt, landonorris, visitmonaco, and 789,465 others

ynleclerc: yes, you all guessed it! he’s mine 😘

view all 899 comments

user13: someone check on the user who has been counting the days since they started flirting

user23: i’ve been summoned!! all i can say is thank god

landonorris: it’s about time

arthurleclerc: i called it

user99: old money carlos is perfect for our equestrian goddess

charlesleclerc: so this is how i find out?

ynleclerc: you did say you were one of my fans so… yes?

charlesleclerc: you are on my last nerve

carmenmundt: adorable 😍

carlossainz55: my gorgeous girl 😘

ynleclerc: my man my man my man

francisca.cgomes: time for a double date 🤍

pierregasly: charles says i’m not allowed

ynleclerc: who said you were invited pierre?

user47: vibes in the ferrari garage in zandvoort are gonna be wild

user98: carlosy/n truthers our time has come

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: another installment of olympic reader wahooo! slowly but surely making my way through my requests. liked and reblogs are always appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[bloorpeon]

I cooked chat.

Fish world and their fish homes!

Au by @keferon

SO! Here’s how I think fish houses work based on your type of fish, starting with the gill mers.

Personally I think that the mer homes would be very hobbit style, and their furniture would be very old, more related to pirate furniture. Since they aren’t exactly going into modern human homes, they replicated what they found in ship wrecks. Of course the building techniques have grown since then, but with limited resources the look is generally the same.

Gill mer houses are fully flooded on the main section since they rely so heavily on the water. While they can survive for a short time out of water, the extended time breathing pure oxygen can make them sick. So their kitchens are partially flooded, allowing them room to quickly go back into the water while cooking.

This isn’t the same for other mers that rely on lungs and pure oxygen.

Their homes are partially flooded, still allowing them to swim in main parts but with large air pockets to take breaths. They have vents that blow in fresh air from the surface. Their kitchens have a thin layer of water on the floor, allowing them to slide around and minimize the effort it takes to move around. All kitchen have a smooth floor, can’t be having a bunch of scratches now can we.

They can’t use gas or fire for cooking, so they rely on electric stoves, which seems dangerous yes. But this is one of the reasons why the stoves are made of mostly non conductive materials, and they’re up on stilts so that the electricity doesn’t touch the water. If all else fails, most modern homes are built with safety measures that trip the “breakers” of that room entirely.

Most homes are made of stone, but if you live closer to the inner city then your home might have quartz mixed in.

Speaking of the city…

It’s just Iacon but underwater! But instead of the harsh and sharp edges and corners, everything is smooth and rounded. Lots of bubbled infrastructure, and a shit ton of windows!

Also pictured are some forms of houses. Top left shows a more common “suburb” where homes are built into mountains and cliffs. Bottom right shows common homes for more tropical mers.

There’s a whole multitude of different types of homes and how they work. Electricity and power run through underground cables, as well as most pipes. They get their power through water and wind, they have floating wind turbines, and all types of machines that are used for harnessing currents and riptides.

Though they’re not opposed from stealing from the humans on occasion.

Coming to my final description for this rant, the beds!

Fairly simple, gilled mers have bed that are fully submerged (usually made of seaweed and are shell shaped), and lunged mers have bed that keep their bodies in the water, but their heads up.

This concludes my insanity for today! Got questions or smth to add? Comment or send an ask, I’d love to make more things with yall

Okay bye bye

(Next time we’re talking about whale homes)

[astonmartinii]

day four: rock(ette)ing around the christmas tree

pairing: pierre gasly x fem rockette reader

high kicks this, high kicks that, pierre is ready to kick off because his job is getting in the way of his festive wag duties

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 238,044 others

yourusername: back in the concrete jungle wet dream tomato for another round of rockette duty !!!

view all comments

user1: how does it feel to live my dream

user2: its not fair that 1. she’s a literal rockette 2. looks like that and 3. is with a whole ass f1 driver ???

user3: everyone saying that she’s lucky to be with him but have we considered that he’s massively batting above his league?

user4: real …. i hope their babies have her hairline

pierregasly: HUH???

yukitsunoda0511: i make sure to remind him everyday 🫶🏻

user5: obsessed with yuki’s need to humble pierre all the time

yukitsunoda0511: he bagged a queen and has made it everyone else’s problem since

yourusername: can you blame him?

pierregasly: don’t answer that yuki

charles_leclerc: please please please come back right now this whiny french man won’t shut up

yourusername: … it’s my job

charles_leclerc: well i’d also argue that wrangling this oversized puppy with attachment issues is also your job

yourusername: no it’s my passion! there’s a difference

pierregasly: seeeeeee !!!! i am loved :(

yourusername: you are! but please cool it on the texts, i got so many going through the TSA that they thought i had a vibrator in my carry on 😭

pierregasly: WITHOUT ME?

yourusername: babe can we not read?

pierregasly: oh! lol i was ready to fight the world of battery operated sex toys

estebanocon: you need help

pierregasly: LEAVE ME ALONE

user6: smile guys i think we’re in the original

user7: bro is crashing out

user8: tbf i’d give my left ball to have a chance with y/n

pierregasly: i will castrate you for free if you even think about her!

yourusername: so romantic <3

pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and 524,087 others

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly: engine failures got me missing my girl :(

view all comments

user10: my one dream this christmas is to get a man this in love with me

user11: really waiting for my grapes to kick in

user12: any second now i swear...

yourusername: mine took three years to come true so hang on

pierregasly: as if i wasn't manifesting you

yukitsunoda0511: bro retired but still hasn't caused any damage this year damn

pierregasly: told them to give me the projected damages for the season as a bonus so i could treat my girl

yukitsunoda0511: ... and nothing for the guy who is actually at all of the races ???

pierregasly: that is your job?

yukitsunoda0511: and i just comfort you after the races for the love of the game?

pierregasly: yes?

yukitsunoda0511: well it looks like i'll be looking for a new boyfriend this christmas

yourusername: what the hell, sure

user13: y/n just giving up against yukierre

yourusername: sometimes you gotta just sit back and let them get it out

yourusername: and also i do actually get invited to pierre's house in milan (i do also live there)

yukitsunoda0511: THAT IS A SORE SUBJECT Y/N WHY WOULD YOU GO THERE

yourusername: you're calling my boyfriend your boyfriend in public instagram comments?

yukitsunoda0511: PLEASE STAY IN NEW YORK FOREVER

pierregasly: yuki ???

yourusername: that's not very christmas spirit of you yuki

user14: y/n is thousands of miles away but still pulled into the scraps

pierregasly: i'm glad she loves me and puts up with it

yukitsunoda0511: why are you both being so mean to me today :(

yourusername: it's the christmas presents that keep me around (jokes, OBVIOUSLY)

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511 and 2,109,778 others

tagged: pierregasly, danielricciardo & landonorris

charles_leclerc: i've stolen his phone so he won't see this but @yourusername he's scarily easy to kidnap

view all comments

user15: so we're on kidnap now... i think the season needs to finish now

user16: no we gotta see how far they are taking it

user17: there's no race in qatar because half of the grid have been arrested lol

francocolapinto: please manifest it i need one of their seats

user18: so real

charles_leclerc: i hate to break it to you franco but you're also on the plane

francocolapinto: don't be dumb charles, i know that, i'm just too pretty to go to jail

charles_leclerc: if anyone is too pretty to go to jail on this AIRPLANE IT IS ME NOW PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN PIERRE IS GETTING SUSPICIOUS

user19: FRANCO IS THERE?

user20: are they all there ???

maxverstappen1: when all is done i don't wanna hear from ANY of them that i don't do anything for them

charles_leclerc: sorry good sir but not all of us have a private jet we can use at the drop of a hat

maxverstappen1: oh i know, i will just hold this over all of you (especially pierre) for as long as i can

charles_leclerc: it's pierre's surprise, why would you hold it against him

maxverstappen1: because i can 👌

yourusername: so on a scale of 1 - 10 how worried should i actually be?

maxverstappen1: very.

charles_leclerc: MAX

charles_leclerc: all is under control y/n do not worry

yourusername: i gotta go warm up for my show tonight i better not finish the show to news reports that my boyfriend is dead

charles_leclerc: he will be alive!

yourusername: and well?

charles_leclerc: i don't want to make that guarantee

yourusername: EXCUSE ME?

charles_leclerc: what? my lawyers told me to never make promises i can't 100% deliver on?

yourusername: well consider me worried

user21: they're defo doing what we think they're doing right

oscarpiastri: if you've got more than two brain cells and the ability to read context cues you will know, it's not the craziest surprise ever

charles_leclerc: we're not in a country rn, maritime laws and all that - THINK

user22: .... riiiiiiiiiiiiight

yukitsunoda0511

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 489,205 others

tagged: pierregasly & yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: using this love sick fool as an excuse to visit new york

view all comments

user24: they took him to nyc to see y/n !!! that's so cute i can't

user25: are they going to go to y/n's show ???

maxverstappen1: they weren't allowed my jet without the assurance that we were going to that damn show

yourusername: you were very happy to see me as someone who recently publicly told me to stay in nyc forever ...

yukitsuonda0511: obviously i said that so we could come visit you !!!

yukitsunoda0511: it was all a part of the plan

charles_leclerc: ummmm you had no part of the plan

yukitsunoda0511: i clearly seduced pierre into not asking questions

yourusername: you're very close to successfully seducing my foot to your ass

yukitsunoda0511: pierre !!!!!!!!!!!!

pierregasly: i am not helping you here bro

user26: someone get yuki a girlfriend before he gets his ass high kicked out of radio city

yukitsunoda0511: at this point i am just doing it to annoy them

yourusername: whatever you want to tell yourself girlypop

yukitsunoda0511: you're just scared that i'd look better than you in the costumes

yourusername: oh really?

pierregasly: okay girls there's enough pierre to go around

pierregasly: but it is all going to y/n, sorry yuki

yukitsunoda0511: you're scared you'll find things out about yourself

pierregasly: is it time to go home yet y/n ???

user27: fuck george vs max i need y/n vs yuki

user28: instead of crash threats it's just yuki threatening to steal rockette outfits

user29: surely there's someone who can make this happen? @f1 @yourusername

yourusername: noooooooo chance

yukitsunoda0511: cough, cough SCARED

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen and 303,277 others

tagged: pierregasly

yourusername: heard my frenchie missed me <3

view all comments

user30: my god they're so cute

user31: i love when a man is so shameless about his love

user32: the matching outfits !!!!!!!

charles_leclerc: thanks charles!

charles_leclerc: you're a great friend

charles_leclerc: you're an amazing person who knows us so well and DOESN'T try and seduce one of us

charles_leclerc: how can we ever repay you

charles_leclerc: oh well, no worries guys i love you

yourusername: nurse he's out again

charles_leclerc: i'm giving you ten seconds before i lose my shit

yourusername: i jest !!! thank you for bringing my lover boy to me charles

pierregasly: thank you charlooooo i guess all my complaining was worth it, i'll make sure to keep it up

charles_leclerc: no no no no no no no No No No NO NO NO NO

user33: charles got major friend points for reuniting them (after like a week away from each other lol) and now will be stuck with pierre complaining full time

alexalbon: and this kids, is why we're not nice to each other

user34: the grid being so done with pierre is so funny

charles_leclerc: the change from him being a slut to a lover boy is too much for my head

pierregasly: can we tell radio city to push back your performances to the second week of december so we don't have to be apart

yourusername: babe i don't think i'm important enough to be making those kind of demands

pierregasly: I THINK YOU'RE IMPORTANT ENOUGH

yourusername: thank you baby but being a rockette is my dream so you'll have to deal with a couple weeks without me

pierregasly: so you don't miss me :(

yourusername: you're on my mind all the time, i love you xx

pierregasly: i love you more xx

pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 673,298 others

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly: only two more races until i can become a full time christmas wag xx

view all comments

user37: the grid are so cute 🥰

user38: the way y/n's dressing room was full of flowers omg she's so loved

user39: the videos of them just being flabbergasted by the show, so personal to me

yourusername: thank you all for coming to see the show !! i promise everyone else were a lot less chill about you guys being there than they let off

pierregasly: no thank YOU for being the star you are 🌟

yourusername: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: are qatar and abu dhabi really that important?

pierregasly: unfortunately they are :( (i am also contractually obligated to be there)

yourusername: boooooooooooooo

alpinef1: but we're paying him to buy you christmas presents

yourusername: ... okay i guess

user40: christmas came early with all this grid content

user41: this is what i wanted from drive to survive not the fabricated drama

yukitsunoda0511: although i still think i'd look better in the costumes... i don't think i'd slay the high kicks like you y/n :(

yourusername: i'll take it !

yukitsunoda0511: but you guys will let me come to the milan house in the new year right?

yourusername: you'll have to ask pierre ...

yukitsunoda0511: PIERRE PLEASE

pierregasly: i guess... only if you stop saying you're prettier than my girlfriend. NO ONE IS PRETTIER THAN HER

yourusername: that's crazy coming from the handsomest man in the world

charles_leclerc: let's not get too crazy here y/n

yourusername: look who isn't getting a christmas present this year now ...

charles_leclerc: i mean last year you gave me a "this candle smells like max verstappen" and a max cardboard cutout

maxverstappen1: sounds like a great gift to me ...

pierregasly: well the presents she gets me are great

charles_leclerc: i don't want to know about those presents

user42: even christmas isn't free from them being horn dogs

yourusername: why do you think i learnt to high kick babe ....

charles_leclerc: shut THE FUCK UP

pierregasly: heheheheeh

fin.

note: oh gosh it's been a busy busy busy week. i haven't written for pierre for like a year lol - enjoy!

[nmakii]

the look of love, the rush of blood

— what it means to date nagi seishiro, but not actually date him

yes this all happened sue me writers are thieves. omfg this id os humiliating to acc write down why is my life like this guys. btw can u guys like… gen tell me what u think ab this dynamic in comments i have to know im so bad at relationships

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means staying up until 2 AM together. it’s finals week, and you’re supposed to be studying. but nagi wanted to play dress to impress with you, and promised he’d help you study after 5 or so rounds.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means everyone at school thinking you’re dating. even reo asked if you have feelings for him, and when you insistently said no, he replied, “alright, alright..! just trying to make sure nagi doesn’t end up hurt.” so that nagi doesn’t end up hurt? what does that even mean?

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means starting volleyball together. you always meant to pick up a sport sooner or later, but you were too old. it’ll be embarrassing to pick one up this late! you told nagi about this, and he said, “i mean… it’s a lot less running than in football, so maybe i’ll try it out with you?”

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means him watching your favorite anime for you. nagi always said that it wasn’t his type of show, you never really expected him to actually watch it. but one day you get a message— “finished s1, but i cant find s2… not on netflix? :x” from then on, he practically enabled you to keep ranting about the show, and he even got a little shocked when you had told him a fake spoiler.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means him insisting to pay him back, but not actually doing anything about it. occasionally, when nagi isn’t too tired, the two of you meet up for breakfast in the morning. he lives closer to school, so he usually always gets there earlier. you always ask him to buy your order and he agrees, only on the condition you pay him back. you always pay him back with baked goods, and he always eats them up. and, he still insists he wants his cash back! you’ve given him cookies and brownies worth more than 3 orders of pancakes, you’re starting to wonder if he just likes your baking.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means hanging out after school. nagi trains a lot. he has to, apparently, in order to become the best striker in the world. but, it doesn’t mean he likes it. if he had it his way, he’d walk to the mall with you and share a cup noodle everyday after school. he’d love to just sit around the convenience store with you for forever— or at least until he wanted to go home. but unfortunately, that time is only limited to an hour before club training starts.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means telling him about all the people you don’t like. nagi’s a pacifist. he likes to think that he’s a very peaceful and chill guy. there isn’t many people he actually hates. but apparently, you do. you tell him almost every week about at least one person who did you wrong, or a guy who keeps harassing you— it almost makes nagi think, ‘is it actually possible for one person to get harassed this much?’. nonetheless, he still listens and internally rolls his eyes when he sees one of the people you’ve mentioned.

dating nagi seishiro, but not actually dating him means him ditching his hang out to go with you. blue lock just won against the japan U20 team. no one thought they could make it. and as a reward, anri decided that they deserve some free time to themselves in the outside world. isagi had invited nagi, chigiri, bachira, and some others to hang out with him. but because he overslept, he just decided not to go… instead he went to your house. “hey, let’s go to an arcade today?” he asked. the two of you headed into your favorite arcade somewhere in shibuya and since he was so near the café he was gonna originally meet isagi at, he did intend to say hi… but that plan sort of went out the window.

“nagi… let me win for once, would ya?” you grumbled. “but, i’ve already got 15 wins, i don’t wanna lose…” he hums in return. and when he finally K.O.’s your character, you hear a loud gruff voice.

“hey, you pain-in-the-ass gamer prince!” it calls out. and by the disgruntled look on his face, it seems nagi already knows who it is. “yer gonna lose yer friends, ya jerk!” the voice suddenly runs in behind nagi and grabs him by the neck. you recognize that face, it was the #6 of last night’s game! “caught him red-handed!” reo laughs.

you’re suddenly a bit shy surrounded by all these new people, not to mention the fact that they’re basically mini-celebrities. “oh? who’s this one you’re hanging out with?” the boy in the beanie asks, walking up to you. you’re suddenly intimidated by the aura that surrounds him. “…wanna see some ninja arts?” he asks.

you’re tempted to say yes, you’ve never seen a ninja before. the choice is taken though when that aforementioned #6 and a boy with pink hair in an updo bun (he looks like a girl, but you’re sure he’s a guy since he was in last night’s game…) yell at him. “don’t go doin’ yer stupid seducing tricks, moron!”

ignoring all of that, nagi finally answered, “…this is s/o, my friend.” isagi nods, and reo almost looks like he wants to scoff at the title, ‘friend’. “so you ditched isagi to hang out with s/o? way to choose your priorities, nagi..!” reo laughs. “well, i haven’t seen s/o in weeks… and i’ve been seeing all of you too much…” he mumbles.

most of them look rightfully offended, most especially isagi, the boy with pink hair, and another boy with a brown and yellow bob cut. the three of them drag nagi over to the dart board as the boy with the bob hums, “let’s party! nya haaa! ♪”

reo grins and encourages you to follow the group, “c’mon, let’s hang! i know nagi especially will be really glad to have you along!” nagi would be glad? …pushing those thoughts aside, you agree to join them. “yeah… sure, i’ll join.”

[heroesneedalancer]

Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:

People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?

Comment by u/Meduselde:

Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.

They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.

And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.

EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!

EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.

Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Don't give up. We will get through this.

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

[wbbpls]

Platonic Plus One

Chapter 6: Paige's POV

word count: 3,253

I tried to make this one a little longer for you guys! honestly pls go thank some of your favorite fic writers that always have the longest chapters bc damn its hard. anyway hope you like it!

Paige had no idea what came over her when she kissed Azzi. There was something about all the almost kisses and Azzi’s stunt in front of that bartender that Paige just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

This is all so fucking confusing because it feels so fucking real. How Azzi looks at her, how she stutters when she gets nervous, how she claimed Paige, and how her dimple seems to pop just a little extra make it feel too real. 

It just doesn’t make sense how Azzi can fake this so easily, but I guess she is really desperate to have her family leave her alone about dating. And of course Jonathon was invited to this wedding. When they dated for a bit and went to prom together, Paige had just started to understand the depths of her feelings. Watching Azzi dress up for someone else and walk away with someone else felt like the world ending. All these years later, he’s back and interested in spending time alone with her Azzi. However, she isn’t really hers.

Paige still has her hand at the base of Azzi’s neck, and the only thing holding her in reality is the feeling of Azzi’s thumbs gently rubbing circles her hips. “You know you can move your hand now, Paigey?”

But she doesn’t want to. “Oh shit, my bad,” Paige replies nervously. Azzi commented on her hand placement as if she wasn't equally touching Paige. If anything, she left her hands on Paige a beat too long after Paige removed her hand. 

Hours filled with laughter, splashing, and swimming went past before they knew it. Jessica and Brandon walk out, and everyone starts cheering. “Hi, everyone!” Jessica smiles and stops by the pool to say hi to the girls. “Hi, bridesmaid!! 

“Hi, bride!”

With a mischievous look, Jessica moves her eyes to Paige and says, “And hello to you, Mrs. Bridesmaid.”

Paige chuckles and wraps her arm around Azzi’s waist. “Hey, Jess, this place is insane.”

“Just wait until you see the spa. Their couple massages are out of this world.”

“Baby, we should go! That would be so nice after being tense from all that running coach made us do.”

“You guys totally should! I’m going to keep doing rounds to say hi to everyone, but let’s catch up later!”

The girls say bye to Jess and fall into a newfound silence as everyone else disperses, unsure how to shift back after their kiss. It hasn’t even been a full day of this, and Paige’s brain is scrambling. So she talks about what she knows best, basketball. “You know I meant to tell you, Coach got all on my ass because I was shooting too many free throws. Who even gets mad at that? Like dude, I’m practicing.”

“He just doesn’t want you to overdo it, that’s all.”

“Nah, Big G doesn’t want me to miss my shots.”

“Okay, fine. Well, I don’t want you to over do it, so at least listen to me.” 

“I’m good, Az, chill.” Paige isn’t good and hasn’t been good for over a month. Of course, Azzi would see that. The pressure of the season, the NIL deals, the growing responsibilities, and the lack of a national championship are closing in on Paige. She knows Azzi wants to help, but right now, the weight of the world is on her shoulders, and if she stops to rest, she knows everything will crumble. 

“I don’t mean anything by it. I just, I don’t know, I hope you know I’m always here for you. That’s all.” The tension in her shoulders almost immediately resolved. If anyone, Azzi would let the ‘Paige Bueckers’ just be Paige, even for a night, despite the flaws and mistakes she carries. 

“I’m sorry, Az. I know you are.” Paige reached out her fingertips to touch Azzi’s. “Hey, you wanna ditch and go watch Frozen?”

Azzi’s eyes brightened immediately.” Yes! Ugh, I miss that bed it was so comfy.” Paige fully grasps Azzi’s hand now and pulls her towards the stairs. “Aight, Princess, let’s get you dried off.” 

Once they got near their chairs, Paige noticed Azzi’s goosebumps and slight shivering. She quickly grabbed the big towel, wrapped it around her shoulders, and opened her arms for Azzi to enter. Azzi smiled sheepishly but took the opportunity to rest her head on Paige’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her waist. Paige makes sure Azzi is wrapped comfortably in the blanket and rubs one of her hands up and down Azzi’s back. Azzi sighs and leans deeper into her neck. “Mmm, sometimes I forget what a good hugger you are.”

Paige feels chills going down her spine. Not because of Azzi’s sweet words, but because of her lips gently touching Paige’s neck as she spoke. “Well then, maybe you should hug me more.”

“Well, maybe I will.”

“Is that a threat?” Paige smirks down at Azzi.

“It’s a promise.” Without even thinking, Paige kisses Azzi’s forehead. “You ready to go up, Az?”

Azzi softly smiles, and that softness travels up to her eyes. “Yeah, P.” God, this might be one of her favorite Azzi smiles because this smile is only for Paige. Azzi might not be hers, but that beautiful smile is. 

They gather their stuff, and Paige grabs both their bags. As they walk towards the door, Azzi yells over to Katie, “Hey, Mom, we are gonna head up for a nap. Call if you need anything!”

“See ya, girls!”

Paige opened the door for Azzi and watched her walk in. She would open every door for Azzi if it meant less work her favorite girl needed to put in. But honestly, Paige partially does it because it gives her a unique opportunity to appreciate Azzi’s body without her noticing. A key part of Azzi being her sexual awakening was also Paige realizing she was definitely an ass girl. Can you blame her?

====================================

The walk back to their room is filled with laughter and inside jokes. Once they reach their door, Azzi opens it and jumps onto the bed. Man, she’s cute. “Ugh, I love hotel service when they make your bed.”

Paige chuckles as she sets their stuff down. “I’m getting into cozies with or without you, Az,” Paige says as she strips off her shirt. She notices Azzi glancing down appreciatively at her abs for just a moment. 

Azzi dramatically gasps, “You wouldn’t!” Paige just smirks and grabs fresh clothes before heading into the bathroom. She changes into boxers, a sports bra, black sweatpants, and an old, oversized team USA basketball shirt. Opening the bathroom door, she walks to Azzi, pouting in her sleep shorts and a sports bra.

Paige lays down on the best and sighs in relief at the comfort of the bed. She pats next to her to signal for Azzi to come lie down. “What’s wrong, Princess?”

“You!”

“Me? Me what?”

“I wanted to wear that shirt.” Now, Azzi is standing over Paige with her arms crossed.

“It’s my shirt, Azzi.”

“No, it’s my shirt, Paige.” Okay, she might be right there, but that's not the point. 

“You’re really gonna make me change right now? I just got comfy.”

Azzi sits on her knees next to Paige, making her pout even bigger. “C’mon Paigey, please?”

“Ugh, fine.” Paige would give Azzi the shirt off her back, both figuratively and literally, as you can tell. Paige whispers under her breath, “Such a brat,” as she takes her shirt off.

“Hey!” Azzi takes advantage of her vulnerable position and tickles Paige as the t-shirt is over her head.

“Azzi, stop!” Paige started laughing and squirming under her, trying to gain the upper hand. Azzi grabs the t-shirt, giving Paige the perfect opportunity. Paige grabs Azzi’s hips and flips them, straddling her legs over Azzi’s waist and pinning both hands above her head. 

“You are such a brat.” They are both breathless from their tickling match.

“Hmm, but you love me.” Azzi flashes a big smile, moving her hands to lace her fingers with Paige’s. 

Time slows down. “Yeah, I do.” And Paige meant it. Their eye contact is too intense to stay in, yet too intense to leave. Suddenly, Paige is very aware of them both not wearing a shirt and how close their faces are. 

Azzi’s eyes flash to Paige’s lips, then whispers gently, “I do too.” 

No one is here but them. They don’t need to fake anything for anyone. They don’t need to be this close, and they definitely don’t need to be one move away from kissing. Suddenly, she can hear KK in the back of her head again, telling her to be careful. She’ll never tell KK, but she’s right. She can’t lose Azzi because of some stupid feelings. Paige takes in a deep breath and resets. Azzi’s face flashes with disappointment as Paige swings off of Azzi. “Ready for your little snowman dude to sing to you?”

“His name is Olaf, and yes, very much so.” Azzi slips on the team USA basketball t-shirt with a smug face, knowing she won this round. Paige leans back with her right arm resting behind her head while she searches for the movie with the remote in her left hand. Azzi gets herself comfortable, leaning her head on Paige’s shoulder. She already seems sleepy, so seeing how long Azzi even makes it will be interesting. 

Paige doesn’t even like this movie that much. It’s not bad. Her opinion of it doesn't match how often she has seen it. But it became Azzi’s comfort movie, so somewhere along the way, it became Paige’s too.  

Before Olaf could even sing about what he’d do in the summer, Azzi's breathing got heavier, indicating she was either about to fall asleep or already asleep. Throughout the movie, she kept readjusting to get closer to Paige. She wrapped her arm around Paige’s bare stomach and intertwined their legs. Azzi was absenmindidly drawing circles on Paige’s stomach, making Paige sleepy too. 

Azzi’s mumbles wake Paige up the slightest bit as she rubs her back. “I love to cuddle you, baby.” Baby. She just called her baby.

Paige freezes for a moment. There is no way normal best friends say things like that to each other. The line of faking is becoming harder and harder to distinguish, especially as Azzi is slipping out pet names in her sleep. Paige squeezes Azzi a little tighter, appreciating this moment together before falling asleep soon after. 

====================================

Paige wakes up to the sound of Azzi’s phone vibrating on the side table. Paige tries to cover her eyes from the light and block her ears from the noise with her pillow. Azzi leans over Paige to grab her phone and then rests right back where she was. “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”

“Oh shit sorry did I wake you guys up?”

“Yeah, but we should probably be getting up soon anyway. Did you need anything?”

“I was wondering if you and Paige wanted to join Dad, me, and the boys for dinner. Some cute restaurants in the main town are not too far from here.” 

“Sounds good to us. Meet in like an hour?”

“Perfect, see you both then.”

Paige heard the whole conversation but was trying to enjoy her last little bit of sleep. Azzi begins to drag her fingers up and down Paige’s abs. “Wake up, P, we gotta get ready for dinner.” 

“I am ready.” Paige mumbles groggily. 

“I don’t think the restaurant or my parents would agree that sweatpants and a sports bra are considered ready to go.”

“Well, they should.”

“Alright, sleepy, pick clothes for dinner tonight.”

“For me or you?”

“Uh, both?” 

Paige teases Azzi for always stealing her clothes, but in reality, she loves it. Something about it feels so domestic. “Aight, wear those short shorts with the pink crop top.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Paige changes into light green pants, a white crop top, and an open black button-up with zig zag patterns. Her sneakers have a small platform, giving her an extra inch over Azzi than usual. She takes her hair out to leave down with a nice wave, knowing Azzi will play with her hair a little extra. 

“Love when your hair is down like that, P. You look so pretty.” God, the power this woman has over Paige is honestly unnecessary. 

“Thanks, Az.” 

“Aww, you’re blushing!”

“What? No! I’m probably just, uh, s-sunburnt.” 

“Sure you are, P.”

“Aight, whatever, let’s go before your dad blames me for you making us late.” Paige grabs Azzi’s hand and pulls her out of the hotel room, leading them to the elevator. Because everything is a competition for them, they race trying to press the button before the other. Azzi makes a lead by pushing Paige against the wall. Just as Azzi was about to press the button, Paige came up behind her, wrapping her arms around her stomach, picking her up and spinning her around. 

Azzi squeals and kicks her feet in the air. “Paige!! Put me down. This isn't fair!” 

Paige stretches her arm out to press the button. “Nah, winning is winning, princess.”

The elevator dings open, and the groosman are packed in there. “Hey, Azzi! Paige!” Jake waves them in. Paige moved her hands from Azzi’s stomach to her lower back to lead her in. The girls say their hellos and shuffle into the center of the elevator. Everyone keeps chatting, but one of the guys, Matt, lingers a little too long on Azzi. Paige should have told her to wear sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. 

Jake broke the tension, “Oh, by the way, we are thinking of throwing a party in our room tonight. You guys down?”

Of course, Matt feels the need to chime in with his gross smirk. “Yeah, Azzi, it would be awesome to see you there.” 

Paige can’t stand guys like him, especially when it comes to Azzi. She took advantage of their fake dating situation, wrapped her arm possessively around Azzi’s waist, and ignored Matt. “We’ll both be there. Thanks for the invite, Jake.”

The doors open, and they all make their way out. “We’ll see you guys tonight!” Of course, Azzi is always nice. In the lobby, the Fudds are waiting for them. 

“Took you long enough, Bueckers.” 

“Woah, woah, pause. I was ready. Azzi was the one making us late!”

“Not even true, Paige.”

“You expect me not to believe my own daughter?” Tim crosses his arms, towering over Paige.

“No, sir. Sorry we’re late,” Paige mumbled and walked towards the door. Azzi giggles and leans in to hug her Dad. 

Jon laughs and mumbles, “Simp.”

A van is waiting for them out front, and Paige stands next to the door, waiting for Azzi. She offers her hand for Azzi to take as she steps in, “For you, Princess.”

“Thanks, baby.” 

“C’mon Paige, hurry up, we’re hungry,” Jose grumbles. 

“Damn, y’all are some hangry Fudd’s.”

====================================

After a car ride filled with laughter, they safely arrive at the restaurant, slide into their booth, and order drinks. Katie was the first to break the silence. “Well, this is our first dinner with Paige as the girlfriend, not the best friend. So everyone has permission to interrogate her.”

“Woah, wait, was this a trap?!” Azzi giggles and puts her hand on Paige’s thigh as she tries to apologize through her laughs. 

“Paige, what are your intentions with my sister?” Jon narrows his eyes at Paige. 

“Seriously, dude?”

“Actually, I do have a question, if you girls don’t mind.”

“Sure, Mom, what’s up?”

“Well, I’m curious, Paige. When was the moment you knew you loved Azzi as more than just a friend?”

“Oh man, y’all gettin’ right down to it.” 

“Yeah, Paigey, tell us alllllll about when you fell in love with me.” Paige gulps, trying to calm her heart down. 

“I think the moment it really clicked for me was when you came to visit for my birthday freshman year. Like I had plenty of moments before that I knew I saw you as more than a friend, but when you were there, it felt like everything just fell into place, I guess. And we were all making cookies in my apartment, and you just fit in so easily, watching you laugh and smile with all our friends. That moment, I knew I was in love with you and couldn’t see a part of my life you don’t fit in.” 

Azzi looked at Paige in awe, squeezing her thigh a little tighter as she spoke. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Learn something new every day, I guess.” Paige slipped her hand into Azzi’s. “That was really when it all changed for you? That long ago?”

“Yeah, Az, probably even sooner.” Paige didn’t have it in herself to look Azzi in her beautiful brown eyes and lie. Even if this is all a facade at the end of the day, at least she can honestly say she told Azzi Fudd when she fell in love with her.

After that confession, Azzi was even touchier than usual. She needed some point of physical contact with Paige at all times. When she really got touchy was whenever the waitress came around.

“Is there anything else I can get for the table?” She addresses everyone, but her eyes seem to think only Paige exists. She’s been complimenting Paige or looking her up and down all night. Of course, Paige was oblivious to it, but even Tim caught on to his daughter's annoyance and became the distinct voice for the table. “We’re all set for now, thank you.” 

Just a few minutes later, the waitress returned with another Dirty Shirley, placing it in front of Paige. “This is for you, hun.” 

“Oh, I didn’t order another one.”

“I know, that one’s on me.” The waitress says in a flirty tone and winks at Paige. Azzi’s grip on Paige tightens and Paige hears Jon and Jose say “Oh shit.” She looks between the brothers, Azzi, and the waitress, confused and overwhelmed. 

Azzi leans into Paige, reaching over her to take the drink. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll have it.” Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi and chuckled at her not-so-subtle hint at the waitress. Azzi looks the waitress dead in the eye as she takes a sip from the straw. The waitress looked uncomfortable and unsure where to go, so she quickly left to address another table. 

“Oooooh, Azzi is jealoooooooous!” 

“Shut up, she was just annoying. Like take a hint.” Azzi rolled her eyes at her brothers, and the conversation naturally flowed to something else. 

“Did you want a taste, Paigey?” Azzi pushes the drink towards her, and when Paige moves to take a sip, Azzi pulls it back and moves her mouth to Paige’s ear. “I never said how you’d get to taste it.”

Paige has never been turned on so fast in her life. Her mouth drops open, and red creeps up her neck while she grips Azzi’s hip. 

Tim must have noticed. “Cat got your tongue over there, Bueckers?” Paige has never been turned off so fast in her life. 

Azzi bursts out laughing at Paige’s frozen and shocked face before she places her head in her hands. Azzi moves her blonde strands out of the way as Paige mumbles, “I shoulda stayed home, man.” 

Azzi leans in with her hand on Paige’s back and whispers, “Well, I’m really happy you’re here, P.”

Paige can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

[cxffecoupx]

universe factory

you're live, but all your fans can talk about is 'universe factory'. what in the world is that??

[yourusername is going live right now.]

"hii~ hi you guys, I've missed you!"

"'i see the headphones; will you be gaming today?' yes yes, very keen observation. there's this new game that's launched recently, called 'good coffee, great coffee'. I'll be playing that today."

"for those who don't know, its a game where you basically just have to make coffees for the customers, but they can really be a pain in the butt so you also have to make sure you're doing everything correctly and such. it's really fun though, because it's got an interesting storyline with it where you get to meet other characters too. it's reaaally fun, you should try it out."

you take a moment to read a few of the comments, where fans ask about the game, upcoming works and your life in general.

"okay guys, going to finish a round. i'll read your comments after that."

the next 5 minutes is spent finishing the game, brows furrowed in concentration as you navigate through the level, curses occasionally coming out your lips when the customers give a bad rating, but you're quick to shut them out. after the round ends, you turn to your phone.

"hello again, i've finished day 75 in the game, and i'm fairly pissed at some of the customers who ordered a vanilla latte and then complained when i gave them a... vanilla latte."

you skim through a few more comments before deciding on one.

"'omg is this universe factory?' ...what is a universe factory? i've been seeing a few dozen comments about it, but i really don't know guys."

"'it looks so similar to universe factory aah i can't believe it' guys i genuinely don't know what you're talking about. what is a universe factory? why is everyone talking about it?"

as you watch more comments flood in, you notice most of them are now related to this thing, or whatever, that they're calling 'universe factory', and a look of confusion glazes your face. a while later, clarifications start coming in.

"'it's seventeen woozi's studio. the lights seem very similar to that' ohh well, clearly there's no reason for me to be there heh. these lights were actually a recent upgrade that i did to my room. for the vibes and all... but thank you for the classification! i assure you, this is just my room, not the factory you're mentioning."

"although," you add after taking a few sips of your cola, "i'd love to work with them someday. it's like a bucket list thing, kind of. deep down on the list, though, because it seems pretty unachievable. but they're really talented and amazing, so i'd love to keep hoping."

"anyways, i'm getting back to my game. see you after another round," you conclude and begin the game. the live goes on for about an hour, before you decide that any more could actually become detrimental to your idol image and health.

"well, i guess i should end the live soon before i lose my sanity. thank you so much for watching, guys. thank you for just watching me make coffees for people in a game. i love you, take care, i'll see you next week! bye bye."

once you're sure the live's over, you can only stretch your arms and take in a huge breath before sighing. just as you reach for your cup of cola, two hands pop out of nowhere and pull your cheeks. you turn your head to see jihoon standing beside you, a huge smile plastered to his face.

a rare sight truly.

"hi, my love," he says before pressing a smooch to the top of your head and sitting on the sofa beside your table.

"i'll never understand how you did a live for 6 freaking hours," you speak through sips and he chuckles. "i could barely finish one hour and that's cause i was playing games."

"well, it was just me talking about anime, so i guess i didnt realise time pass by."

"still impressive. oh! and also, the fans almost caught onto us, you know?"

"yeah, i was watching. but you handled it so well."

"aww you softie... but seriously, i thought they might have figured it out. weren't you worried we might get exposed?"

he just waves his hand, shaking his head. "nah. i knew you'd handle it well," he says and takes your hand in his.

"also, even if we do get exposed, i'm not worried. i'd only be glad that the world finally knows we're together," he brings your hand to his lips to press a kiss.

you can't help but smile.

"aah lee jihoon. who knew you'd say such romantic things out of nowhere?"

"it's just what you do to me. by the way, you were saying you wanted to work with me sometime...? you do realise i've got a few tracks of us, right? working hot and heavy with each other?"

a/n: this was waaay better in my head than whatever this turned out to be. this is also a way for me to speak about the game I've been playing recently. anyone here who plays 'good coffee great coffee', hmu i wanna exchange souls w u (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

[solxamber]

I love your stories 🥰 they’re so cute. Can I request Malleus Tsum and his S/O’s Tsum dropping in for a visit, but these Tsum’s are from the future so they bring their little Tsum offspring to show off to their non-Tsum counterparts, and the diasomnia crew.

Visited by your Tsums! - Malleus x reader

I loved this ask, its adorable!

The first sign that today was going to be anything but normal was the soft plop you heard at your feet. You looked down to see something small, round, and suspiciously familiar.

“Malleus?” you blinked. "Why are you… tiny?"

At your feet stood a tiny, Tsum version of Malleus, his beady eyes staring back at you as if this were the most normal thing in the world. You were just about to reach down when—plop—your Tsum counterpart appeared right next to him, and before you could even process that, three more Tsums—small, round, and suspiciously dragon-like—plopped right down between them.

“Malleus!” you squawked, eyes wide. “Why do we have Tsum kids?!”

Real-Malleus (the non-Tsum version) was beside you in an instant, looking as bewildered as you felt but also… ridiculously happy? He knelt beside the tiny family, eyes practically glowing. “It appears we’ve been visited… by our future.”

“You mean our future Tsums. With… our Tsum kids,” you added, still trying to wrap your mind around what was happening. “How do Tsums even reproduce?”

Just as Malleus was about to respond, Lilia swooped in, his eyes lighting up at the sight. “Grandchildren!” he squealed, sweeping up the tiny Tsum-children in his hands like they were the most precious things in the world. “Oh, this is wonderful! Look at their little wings! And their tiny horns! I knew this day would come, but not so soon!”

“Grandchildren?!” you yelped, cheeks burning. “Lilia, wait a second—Malleus and I only just started dating!”

Lilia, completely ignoring your flustered protests, was already cradling the Tsum babies like a doting grandfather, eyes misty with joy. “Oh, they’re perfect! Look at these little faces! I always knew you two would make beautiful children!”

You felt your face heat up as you glanced at Malleus, who was watching the scene with an expression that could only be described as giddy.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Malleus said, voice soft but tinged with awe. “Our future looks… very promising.”

You could only blink at him, your brain short-circuiting. “We’re not even close to that stage yet!”

“Perhaps not,” Malleus mused, “but the future clearly holds… delightful things.”

Before you could respond, Sebek stormed in, his face torn between utter disbelief and something bordering on reverence. “WHAT IS THIS?!” he bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the Tsums. “ARE THOSE… LORD MALLEUS’S CHILDREN?!”

“Well, not technically children—they’re more like… future-Tsum-offspring,” you tried to explain, but Sebek’s brain had already short-circuited.

“I… I don’t understand! How could—A HUMAN?! WITH MY LORD?!” Sebek wailed, torn between his intense loyalty to Malleus and his confusion over the fact that his beloved Lord had apparently made mini-Tsum children with a human.

Lilia, still blissfully ignoring the chaos, began bouncing the Tsum babies in his arms. “Don’t you just love it, Sebek? Grandchildren already! They’re perfect, just like I imagined!”

“GRANDCHILDREN?!” Sebek practically choked, his voice hitting a pitch that was probably illegal in most regions. “But—Lord Malleus—human—children—I—I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL!”

“I think it’s lovely,” Silver commented from his spot in the corner, looking half-asleep but clearly entertained. “Though… are they going to stay for dinner?”

You stared at the Tsums, then at Malleus, and then back at the Tsums. “Is this… like a sneak peek of our future? Is that what this is?”

Tsum-you and Tsum-Malleus both bobbed their heads as if to say, yes, of course.

Malleus, positively glowing with excitement, bent down to inspect the tiny offspring, his voice full of awe. “Our children… They take after you,” he said softly, turning to you with a fond smile.

Your heart did a little flip, and you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to fight the urge to melt on the spot. “Yeah, but… we’re not even—y’know—there yet.”

“True,” Malleus mused, but his smile didn’t fade. “But I look forward to that day.”

Lilia, meanwhile, was already planning the family reunion, holding up one of the Tsum-children like Simba “Sebek, take a look! Your Lord’s legacy! His tiny, adorable legacy!”

Sebek, still torn between utter confusion and blind loyalty, managed to sputter out, “Lord Malleus’s children… even if they’re Tsums… Oh my god, it’s my Lord’s children.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and he sank to one knee in reverence.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, shaking your head. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“And yet,” Malleus said, stepping closer to you, “I find myself… delighted.”

You glanced up at him, still flustered but starting to feel the warmth of his excitement. “Yeah, I guess it’s… kinda cute.”

Malleus leaned in, his voice a low, rumbling whisper. “One day, we’ll have our own family. I look forward to it.”

You flushed, but you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, huh?”

Tsum-you and Tsum-Malleus squeaked in agreement, as they bounced happily between their future offspring.

“Well,” you said, giving the tiny family one last look, “if this is what the future holds… I guess it doesn’t look so bad after all.”

Masterlist

[luveline]

Derek and shy!reader maybe? Meeting the team for the first time and none of them are expecting Derek's partner to be standing half-hidden behind him, shyly waving at them instead of saying anything

thank you for ur request! fem!reader

"So what's the deal?" Emily asks Penelope, licking the stem of her paper umbrella dry before dropping it onto a napkin. "He's suddenly going steady?" 

"Can you call five months sudden?" Rossi asks. 

Hotch nudges him. 

"What?" Rossi asks. "Can you? Five months is a long time." 

"And that's why you had to send Christmas cards to three different divorce lawyers this year," Emily says. 

Emily has a penchant for saying the occasional brazen comment, but JJ confiscates her friend's margarita anyways, before the booze loosens her lips and she says something worse. It's a small jet. 

"It's not like Morgan," Spencer agrees, standing at Rossi's other side, looking less out of place than usual. 

"It's totally like him," Penelope says.

Hotch's smile is hard to read, which is a spectacle considering current company. "I agree." 

"Here he is now," Penelope says excitedly, clapping her hands in front of her chest. 

Derek strides into the bar and past its patrons without a care in the world. He looks happy, content, and the team doesn't need to see you to know you're with him. He smiles at his phone at work exactly as he smiles now, with his arm stretched backwards to tether you along. 

You come into view as the crowd thins. You're not what anyone's expecting, certainly not plain but nor are you dressed up. Emily, in her tipsiness, declares that you look adorable, and receives a reproachful look from Hotch in reward. 

"Hey Derek!" JJ calls as soon as he's near enough. 

"Hey, guys. Mama, you remember what we talked about?" Derek asks Penelope. 

She nods sagely. "Restraint. I'm restraining myself. Oh my god you're so cute, I'm Penelope! I'm so happy to meet you." 

"Hi," you say. 

No less than five pairs of eyes fall to your hand as you twist your fingers into Derek's sleeve. He doesn't bat an eye, taking a half step in front of you, a picture of casualness as he introduces you to each of them in turn. 

"It's nice to meet you," Hotch says, seemingly speaking for the whole group. 

You raise your hand and give a stilted wave. Your eyes look sad and stressed at once, but you don't sound either, softly saying, "You too." 

Derek wraps a muscled arm behind your neck, grinning while he meets Penelope's eyes. "What are we drinking tonight?"

Your eyebrows pinch up at the starts. You smile at them all despite your obvious nervousness, and it's enough for each of them to reach the same conclusion simultaneously. You're shy, but you're good. A broad sweep yet easy to make. It's obvious how much you care for Derek if you'd been willing to meet them like this when you clearly don't feel comfortable.

Luckily for you, Penelope is excellent as making people feel welcome. "We're drinking Y/N's choice. What do you like? Sugar shots? Mojitos?" 

Your lips part, unprepared for a direct question so soon. 

Derek turns his head to yours, giving you what Emily deems the most ridiculous puppy dog eyed smile anyone has ever given, and what Rossi knows is a ring waiting to happen. He should know. 

"Let's go figure it out. Another round, from me?" he offers. 

He's quick to steer you away, but not too quick to miss Rossi's, "Something strong if you want us old timers to stay!" 

They wait for you to be safely out of earshot before they condense, bad gossips and worse actors off the job. "Who would've thought?" Emily asks. 

"She's not what I was expecting," JJ says. 

"Are we that intimidating?" Rossi asks, raising his eyebrows. The answer being yes, of course, though none of them are aware of just how scary they can be. You'd felt like you were standing in front of a pack of wolves. 

"She seemed nice," Spencer says. Trust him to say something sweet. Trust the rest of Derek's friends to agree, the group nodding and humming at various pitches.

"She seemed silent," Emily jokes. 

Penelope crosses her fingers and closes her eyes, earrings swinging against the blond tresses of her curled hair as she drops her head. "God, my muffin deserves nice. Please let this work out, she looks so sweet. I just wanna pinch her cheeks." 

"It's gonna work out," Hotch says surely. 

If Derek could hear him, he'd agree on the spot, but he's too busy praising you halfway across the room for such a stellar introduction. 

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Shelter - 3

Summary: You saved Soap's life. Your life continues to go off the rails.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/F!Reader (No Y/N)

Warnings For This Chapter: Continued military inaccuracies, my attempt at writing accents, slow burn romance, canon typical violence and death, ...soft!Simon

A/N: Thank you to everyone who commented or liked the last chapter! Your continued support means the world to me.

Previous Chapter

“Quiet, Johnny.”

The Scot muffled his chuckle into his palm as he walked beside Simon, leading the charge up to the house. Gaz and Price were hauling the bags up from the car behind him. And Simon…Simon was carrying her.

The safehouse was up near the Scottish borders, quiet and secluded. And old. Well stocked, if Laswell’s promises meant anything (they almost always did) and Price said he’d used it before, calling it “basically a B&B.” The last stretch of the trek had been on a dirt road that hadn’t shown up on any sort of navigation system and they had to refer to a poorly drawn map. They’d hit more than a few rocks.

She was a heavy sleeper. Hadn’t moved when the entire SUV jostled over the uneven terrain or when it came to an abrupt stop outside. Simon had tried to poke her. Nudged her. Called her name. And nothing. Well, that didn’t leave him much choice. He wasn’t going to have her wake up alone in the car in an unfamiliar place. So, after removing the bag from over her face, he just scooped her up and tried not to jostle her too much.

But it was the way that she nuzzled her cheek into his chest, uncaring of the rough fabric of his tac vest catching her skin, that had his grip tightening a fraction. She wasn’t built like a model but she was weightless in his arms. Just because she…

Simon wasn’t sure what to do with that thought as he trudged up the house’s stairs and toward the small bedroom at the back of the hallway. The bed was small, made smaller still when he set her down. He expected her to roll away immediately, curl into the blankets, something. Instead, she let out what Simon could only describe as an angry meow and her arm flopped back toward him as he stepped back.

Again, something twisted in the dark confines of Simon’s chest. He couldn’t, wouldn’t name it.

He turned on his heel and left the room.

“Steamin’ Jesus, LT!” Johnny groused as Simon rounded the stairs. Her small bag was in his hand. “When did ye even get up here?”

“Been ‘ere the entire time, Johnny. Keep up.” He took the bag from the sergeant’s hands without asking and pivoted back to her room. He set the bag—that he definitely didn’t have to rifle through when they first retrieved it from the hotel—down in front of the small dresser near the door. She was curled around the pillow now, hugging it basically into her face as continued to sleep. And if Simon watched her chest rise and fall with the next few breaths, well, that could be his little secret.

The safehouse wasn’t awful. You’d actually describe it as charming if you weren’t abundantly aware that you were basically a government informant against your will. It was two levels with three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, the eat-in kitchen, living room, office, washroom, and primary suite below. The appliances and decor were dated but again…charming. You weren’t dumb enough to walk into the office that Price had claimed. They had started setting up a hub of sorts with a satellite laptop, an assortment of phones, and a large array of weapons stored along the back wall. Not that you were cataloging everything in the house that you could use to make an escape. You weren’t that stupid.

God. You really needed to work on being more positive.

The sun was still rising by the time you’d found your bearings in the house and you took a chance to slip out the back door, hinges groaning in protest, and found a small stone patio leading out to a long stretch of tall, wild grass abutting a thick forest. A pair of rusty lawn chairs were positioned around a cold fire pit and you settled into one, content, for now, to not be in the way of everything going on inside. This was better.

Positive. Think positive. You wouldn’t have shitty paychecks anymore or have to deal with Doctor Brookes breathing down your neck and making you uncomfortable whenever he ‘surprised’ you down in the archives. You could finally pick up pilates. Maybe.

The wind whistled through the trees and rustled the grass. It was quiet here. You often fell asleep to the quiet scream of the city back in Chicago and London had been little different for the few days you’d managed to have before shit hit the fan. You’d always gone from one city to the next. You were sure you would miss the buzz of it soon, but for now? For now, this was nice.

You shut your eyes as another gust of wind brushed your face and you pulled in a reedy breath, trying to remember the techniques your therapist had taught you. Years ago. You probably should call her again after all this. Maybe. (You probably wouldn’t but it was a nice thought.)

There was a noise on the other side of the door, it could have been an argument, but you didn’t open your eyes or turn back toward the house. Wasn’t your problem. The less you heard, the better. Hearing things you weren’t supposed to was how you got into this mess in the first place.

Your head fell back against the chair as the sun finally started to peek out from behind the ever present clouds and you tried to angle your face to let the warmth wash over you. The crick in your neck from the flat hospital pillow was gone. The pillow on the little bed upstairs was comfortable. And no, you were not thinking about how someone must’ve carried you up to that tiny bedroom. And no, you weren’t hoping it was Ghost. He had been quiet and warm beside you during the drive to wherever-the-fuck-you-are and he’d been…nice. Sort of. They all had been. A little cold. A little guarded. Not that you could blame them. You were probably the same or worse in their eyes. And that was another reason you were out here, out of their way.

“-she?”

Your face scrunched as you caught the last bit of a question asked on the other side of the door. Were they talking about you? There was an answering rumble and then a, “fan out! Couldn’t’ve gone far.”

What on earth…? Whatever. Not your problem. You kept your face angled toward the sun and-

The door behind opened with a screech, banging against the stone wall and you hurried to your feet, turning with your heart in your throat to see Soap standing on the patio, chest heaving. His bright blue eyes trained on you. “What were ye doin’ out here, lass?”

“Sitting.” Out of habit, you pointed unhelpfully at the chair.

He glanced down at the chair, too, frowning, before turning and hollering into the house. “Found ‘er!” Soap waved you back inside and herded you into one of the chairs around the small dining room table and stood at your back as the others filtered in. Ghost was the last to come in, dark eyes unmoving from your face as he moved to lean against the far wall, a mass of black fabric against the cream colored plaster. Soap explained that you had gone outside. “Didnae look like she was running.” He even patted your uninjured shoulder like you were a kid. Wonderful.

“I told you I was sitting. I thought it would be better for everyone if I wasn’t, you know, bothering anyone.”

“How did you get outside?” Price asked.

“Door was open.”

Stupid.

The noise came from Ghost again and you still weren’t entirely sure if he was laughing. And perhaps the ridiculousness of the situation was making you bold, but you opened your mouth again. “Am I not supposed to go outside?”

“We just weren’t sure if you were pulling a runner,” Gaz supplied, helpfully.

They didn’t trust you. Still didn’t trust you. Great. And you really should’ve known that. You didn’t even know their names. Or what Ghost looked like under his masks. “I just…” The words were stiff on the back of your tongue. “I didn’t want to be in the way.” You’d also been kept in a tiny room for the last handful of days and the sun let you feel like a human again. But that felt like oversharing.

Price looked at you, his blue eyes a different shade than Soap’s but no less alarming. “You’re not in the way. You’re a target.” He paused and you tried to brace to be told to stay in your room or- “We’re here to help you. You help us, we help you, yeah? You kept my men alive and we’d like to return the favor.”

And to your abject horror, the simple statement had tears stinging your eyes. He sounded sincere and you were always so used to people saying stuff like that only to get what they wanted out of you. But this… “Right.” The single syllable warbled. God, this was embarrassing.

Ghost knew her routine.

It had been two weeks since they’d arrived at the safe house and she’d been a shadow for most of it. He wasn’t entirely sure why but she’d taken it upon herself to have coffee made first thing in the morning, waiting for them in the kitchen alongside a kettle ready to be warmed for tea. It was usually sitting beside a mountain of pancakes or waffles or some other sweet pastry. Today, she’d made fresh bread and set it beside the carafe with butter and jam.

She was never around to have breakfast with them. Or lunch. Or supper. She was a shadow when she was inside. She also seemed to be a reader, if the stack of books that had disappeared from the living room and reappeared on her bedside table was any indication (the phone and tablet they’d nicked from her bags back in London were also stuffed full of books). And he’d watched her take a book outside to read in the back garden whenever Price said it was allowed. She was also attempting a new workout regimen that Kyle said was supposed to be pilates but “it doesn’t look like she has the patience for it.” But Simon didn’t mind watching her stretch.

“Lass makes good breakfast,�� Johnny said around a mouthful of buttery toast.

Simon grunted his agreement and grabbed another slice, smearing the raspberry jam across the top. On instinct, his eyes tracked to the stairwell, willing her to arrive. She never did. The only time she appeared was when Price called for her, wanting her to review what she’d overheard in the tunnels before one of Laswell’s other contacts went out to investigate and destroy anything they could. It chafed at all of their nerves, knowing they needed to stay put for now, laying low to throw Makarov off their own scent.

Simon hated that phrase, too. For now.

But Johnny was alive. Their team was safe. His teammates’ families were being looked after, just as a precaution. And they had at least some sort of intel on Makarov. He tried to focus on that.

And not on the curve of her lip or how he could smell her perfume on his clothes long after he had left her in that small bedroom upstairs. And not how he could hear her sigh through the night, thinking everyone else had gone to sleep.

Simon kept eating, devouring half the loaf she’d left before he noticed. Kyle gave him a tired glare over his own plate and took two more slices before Simon could stop him. And then Johnny did, too. And Price watched it all from over the edge of his tea before sighing and getting up. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with another loaf of bread. “I guess she knew you lot would be hungry.”

Simon ignored how something twisted in his chest. Again.

It was better to just take another bite and think of what Farah and Alex should be reporting to Laswell soon, if all went to plan.

Price had said they wanted to keep you alive, a thank you for saving Soap. And they were kind to you, now that the initial rigidity had somewhat subsided. Gaz always checked on you throughout the day, made sure you took your medications with his megawatt smile and a joke or two. Soap could talk your ear off about anything and everything and you could almost understand his accent all the time now as you slowly made your way through your physical therapy requirements alongside him. And Price was usually all business with you when you needed to verify this or that, but he always thanked you and never minded when you asked for more books to read or food to be delivered so you could make more breakfast (which was all you could do, really. They were keeping you safe and you didn’t really have any skills to reciprocate except your weird ability to make a good breakfast so you offered it to them every morning before they woke up and skittered out of the way like a feral cat). And then there was Ghost. Who watched. He just watched and seemed to disappear whenever you had to blink. But he was just there. With his mask, cloth that reached just beneath his dark eyes and painted with a skull’s jaw (at least it wasn’t the one that looked like he’d sewn a piece of an actual skull onto some fabric), and that noise he made that you still couldn’t figure out if it was a laugh or not. He had helped you with your stitches, which was a kindness he didn’t need to extend to you but he did anyway.

And you hated that you sometimes thought about the weight of his hand on your back whenever you couldn’t sleep at night. The closest thing to an actual conversation you’d had with Ghost was when he’d snuck up on you (intentionally or not) when you were reading out in the infrequent sunshine and your embarrassment about being caught off guard manifested, as it often did, with you sticking your foot straight into your mouth. “So, do you have to special order all your skeleton stuff or do you hit up a hobby shop whenever you need it?” Ghost didn’t dignify that with a response other than that damn sound again.

And it didn’t really matter because you still needed to get back to Kirby. Her due date was barreling toward you and you were slowly trying to work up the courage to just ask if you could go see her. You had a speech planned out and you hoped that the breakfasts had at least softened them to you. The four men seemed to be at ease in the house, like things had been going their way in regards to the Makarov situation.

And Soap had said that he would talk to someone about you wanting to leave. You had to trust him in that regard. He didn’t seem the type to lie about that.

As you gnawed on the side of your thumb, making your way through another book, you heard the heavy steps of one of the men downstairs. They weren’t usually loud but men of that size didn’t move without a sound…most of the time.

Except for Ghost.

He was unnervingly quiet. Or would be, if it were anyone else. You found yourself wondering why you didn’t seem to mind when he appeared out of seemingly nowhere, like a wraith or…well, a ghost. Stupid. But the name did seem to fit.

You turned another page just as something thumped downstairs. And you knew you shouldn’t pry. It wasn’t your place and overhearing things was the reason you didn’t have a job, weren’t back in the States with your sister, and currently holed up in a safe house with men whose names you didn’t know. But when a second thump came and it was quickly followed by a grunt, you set your book aside and walked to your door, chanting that you knew this was stupid under your breath.

“Are they safe?” came Soap’s voice. Biting. Barely restrained. You’d never heard him like that before.

“They’re safe.” Laswell’s voice crackled over a speaker—probably the laptop Price was always glued to.

Peeking around the corner when you reached the ground floor, you saw Soap nod before turning quickly, dragging stiff fingers through his mohawk. It looked like someone had swiped one of the shelves clear of its contents, spilling books and baubles across the floor. That was probably what you had heard.

“They’re all safe, boys. I made sure of it myself.” She was using that same tone she used with you when you woke up on base. Placating. Cool confidence. It scratched at something in the recesses of your brain, pinging warning bells that something was very, very wrong. More than a mission. More than a brother-in-arms out in the field.

“What about-”

“All of them. I personally saw to it.”

There was another stretched silence and you took the chance to inch closer to the office. Well. You tried to inch closer before a hand clamped over your arm and you were tugged back into the stairwell. Ghost stared down at you, unblinking.

“I heard something,” you whispered, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could think of a better—less suspicious—explanation as to why you’d been creeping in the shadows.

Ghost didn’t say anything.

“Is…” You licked your lips as your heart gave an uncomfortable lurch behind your ribs. “Is everything okay?”

“Listenin’ like that ain’t a good look.”

Something hot and angry slithered down your spine. Did he really expect you to just stay upstairs and only come down when called like a dog? You’d had enough of that. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I heard a noise.”

“And ‘id in the shadows.”

You could feel the sneer starting to curl your mouth. “I’m sorry, did I take your hiding spot?”

And then he made that fucking noise again. That sharp breath. “Heh.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

And then he did it again. “‘course I am.”

Really, you should have been absolutely pissed. And you were. But that snarl started to twist and push and you found yourself fighting a smile because his laugh was ridiculous. A man that large should not be allowed to laugh like that. “Whatever.”

His grip on your arm tightened a fraction, thumb pressing into the delicate crease of your elbow, before he tugged you back toward the office. You halfheartedly tried to ignore how his fingers trailed against your arm when he dropped his hold. And it didn’t seem like he did it on purpose because he was busy talking to Soap about something—you heard the word sitrep and you weren’t about to ask what that meant.

Not when you realized you were staring at the remnants of a destroyed home. Pictures upon pictures filled the small screen of the laptop and your stomach sank the more you looked. That was someone’s home. A couch was gutted and overturned. A stereo was broken into pieces. And frames were smashed. It was one of the last pictures that had your veins turning to ice. It was a picture of Soap, surrounded by women who could only be his family, bright, shining smiles behind shattered glass.

That was Soap’s family home.

And you were sure Gaz, Price and Ghost all had families, too. There were pieces of their lives scattered on that small screen. They had been targeted. Or at least their houses had been.

Gaz was the first one to catch your eye and he gave you a tight smile. “Didn’t think you would want to see this, love.”

“I…” The words you could have said dried on your tongue. What could you say to someone who just learned that their family was in danger? “Is there anything I can do?”

Simon watched her retreat back up the stairs. It had been kind, he supposed, for her to offer her help. She couldn’t do anything. Nothing that she hadn’t already done. But he saw the flash of concern in her eyes before it disappeared again as she nodded, quietly leaving the office when told to do so.

“Has there been any movement against her sister?” Kyle asked but Simon saw his eyes dart to the picture of his dad’s overturned office.

“We have her monitored, but I don’t think Makarov knows of her either. She isn’t on any sort of official documentation we can find.”

“Shouldn’t there be birth certificates? Where’s their mum?” Price asked.

Things weren’t adding up. There were holes in all of this. Simon crossed his arms as he let the others talk.

“Her mother’s dead. Dead for decades. And before you ask, Kirby has a different mother. Only Kirby has a father listed.”

“Same father, then?”

“A possibility. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead, too.” Laswell sighed, crackling the line.

Simon’s eyes dragged across the destruction Makarov had brought across his teammates’ families’ homes. His stomach churned, just for a moment, remembering a different home, a different family, with no one there to shuttle them off to a safer haven.

Just as quickly as the thought came, it left. Just as it always did. And the scent of her perfume lingered and how she looked more sad than scared when she saw the pictures.

You hadn’t really known what you could do when you asked if there was anything you could do so it only stung a little when you were dismissed. After sneaking a bit of dinner from the kitchen, trying to not listen to anything still coming from the office, you readied for bed and managed to fall into a dreamless sleep after finishing your book.

Brief, bright light had your eyes snapping open. You waited for a moment, your frown growing deeper, wanting to know if it would happen again. And it did, bursting through the small window for a split second.

Someone was outside.

Scraaaaape.

You frowned at the ceiling and tried to filter through the possibilities. Animals. Wind. But the scraping sound came again and it twisted at something in your gut. You were supposed to be alone out here. Isolated.

Safe.

But something was screaming at the back of your mind that this wasn’t right.

The noise came again and you slid off the bed as your heart inched its way up your throat. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. On quiet feet, you moved toward the window, trying to keep your back pressed to the wall, hidden in shadows. And then you heard the scrape again. And then a rhythmic thudding across the dead grass.

Something glinted, catching the moonlight. And your heart nearly stopped before beating a painful staccato against your ribs. Guns. Men with guns. Men with guns were surrounding the house, sliding out of the trees behind the house and slinking closer. One of them held a flashlight—that had been the light.

“Fuck.” You turned and tried to find something, anything that could be used as a weapon. The only thing that you thought could work was the lamp, heavy enough to cause some damage but only once. It was better than nothing. You slid back toward it and-

The room tilted as a tight grip dug into the back of your neck and hauled you backward. Before you could scream, another hand clamped over your throat. Your next breath wheezed out from between your teeth and you blindly tried to pry the thick fingers from around your windpipe but only served to have the grip on your neck tighten. “There you are, little brat.”

The accent was harsh and flashes of your time in the tunnels sped through your mind. They were back. Makarov’s men.

“Now, tell us what-”

“I know nothing,” was your wheezed reply. It was a knee jerk reaction and not a complete lie but that hardly mattered with your heart beating wildly behind your ribs.

But the grip on your throat tightened a fraction more. “You’ve been living with them for weeks. You know nothing? Useless American,” the man sneered, spittle splashing against your cheek.

Your therapist had once said you were impulsive. And she might have mentioned trauma and the need for continued meetings but that didn’t stop your tongue from lashing. “You call me useless?” Black dots were lining the edges of your vision. “I wouldn’t tell you a-anything even if I did know. Go fuck yourself!” The last word was garbled on your leaden tongue as the grip on your throat tightened and completely cut off your airway.

“What did you tell them, then, hm?” More spit landed your face. He grumbled something in Russian your addled brain couldn’t comprehend and the black edging in on your vision grew darker, lungs burning with each empty pull you tried to take. Your nails dug into the man’s hands around your throat but his grip didn’t falter. Even as your vision tunneled, you knew you had to do something.

Anything.

Kirby was waiting for you. Blindly, you thrust a hand out and the tips of your fingers slipped across the lamp’s shade. You thrashed against the man’s grip and you might have heard him laugh but you still tried again until your hand closed around the flimsy shade and you yanked it up and backward with a croaked shout. It cracked in your grasp but it made contact, raining shards of porcelain against the side of your face.

Your next breath burned as the vice of his hands opened. You didn’t waste a moment and yanked yourself away from him, only managing to collapse onto the bed on your belly as your knees knocked together. A slew of curses punched out of his mouth and you turned to see blood pouring from a large cut above his eye.

Good.

He wiped at his face, smearing blood across his cheeks, before lunging for you.

You threw yourself off the other side of the bed, legs slamming against the floor but he did not follow. You stood and turned, ready to-

-a hand pressed over your mouth and stifled the scream you felt blooming behind your teeth. “Quiet,” Ghost whispered.

It was then you noticed the man, unmoving on the floor. A knife embedded in his left eye.

You nodded, the fabric of Ghost’s gloves scratching your lips. He was here. He was with you. It snapped and fizzled at something in your belly but was quickly snuffed out by the quick pop-pop-pop of gunfire downstairs. Ghost didn’t flinch at all—not that you expected him to. Instead, he dropped his hold on you and grabbed one of your hands, moving to thread your fingers through the belt loop on his side, a silent command you followed readily. He pulled a gun from its holster and turned, quietly tugging you along as he moved out into the hallway.

The sound of more gunfire battered your ears as Ghost led you down the short hallway and down the stairs. You didn’t say anything as you stepped over one, two, three bodies on your way down. Ghost was a solid mass in front of you, unwavering and his gun ready. Before you could blink, he moved, shoving you to the side and you tightened your grip on his belt loop as he fired off two rounds right where you were about to step.

The next body hit the floor without any fanfare and he continued to tug you along. The house wasn’t big—you knew this—but it felt massive as he continued to lead you toward the front door. As you stepped out into the living room, both Gaz and Soap emerged from the shadows, guns drawn and tac vests thrown over their shirts. They flanked you as Ghost continued to lead you out onto the front yard where the SUV rumbled, Price behind the wheel.

A quick flash of light caught your eye and you saw the left side of the house catch fire–quickly. And then the world tilted on its axis, sliding beneath your feet—oh wait, no. Ghost had just grabbed your shirt and wrapped an arm around your waist and threw you into the car. No one screamed at Price to “move move move” like they did in the movies but Ghost hauled himself in behind you and immediately grabbed the back of your neck and shoved you down toward the floorboards. “Keep down,” he said, voice just a touch above his usual drawl. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the grip on your neck smarting. You’d probably be bruised before the sun came up. You did chance a look up as the car rocked side to side, racing through the field and over the hidden bumps and rocks. Gaz and Soap had guns trained on the back window as Ghost kept his hand anchored on the back of your neck. But you shivered when his thumb brushed against your hammering pulse.

He must have felt it because he did it again.

What a way to end the night.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! I'm not going to lie, getting less than 1/3 of part one's notes on part two bummed me out. I'm considering only posting this on ao3 as I seem to get at least a little more engagement there. Let me know what you think! Because, yes, while I write for me, it is shared with you guys and I'd like to know if you're enjoying it.

[scarletmika]

Cliché : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: There's always a joke surrounding weddings that the Maid of Honor and the Best Man will end up falling in love; it's one of the oldest clichés in the book. When you're the Maid of Honor, though, Bob Floyd wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: insane amounts of fluff, insane amounts of pining (my god I couldn't stop), maid of honor and best man trope, kind of friends to lovers, language, Hangman is Hangman, female reader, reader is very creative and can dance, UCSD info might not be accurate I don't go there, suggestive and steamy but not explicit, language, probably incorrect descriptions of the Navy (my dad was a Marine, I'm doing my best lol)

Word Count: 13,515 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“Natasha Trace, my best friend…will you marry me?”

The Hard Deck erupted into a chorus of excitement the minute that Natasha told Bradley Bradshaw yes through a curtain of tears. Bob was cheering right along with them, elated for his two best friends and to know that Rooster had pulled off the proposal he’d been stressing over for weeks now.

The couple had made the rounds in the moments after. Maverick and Penny were the first to congratulate them both, and Bob could’ve sworn he saw tears in their Team Leader’s eyes as he hugged Rooster. Hangman had a snide remark under his breath, but gave the couple both his heartfelt congratulations, followed by Fanboy and Payback.

“Couldn’t have done this without you, Bobby boy,” Rooster clapped his best friend on the back, bringing him into a tight hug before letting Natasha hug her back seater. “Bob’s been helping me plan this for weeks, making sure everyone would be here tonight for the engagement party. The greatest future best man a guy could ask for!”

“Bradley, it can’t be an engagement party without our families,” Natasha had quickly argued back, shooting Bob a bright smile. “But thank you, Bob. It means the world to both of us.”

“It’s what you both deserve,” he’d told them wholeheartedly. “Seeing my best friends happy is all I want.”

“Going back to your engagement party comment,” Bradley cut in, shooting his now-fiancée a cheeky grin as he gestured behind her. “Don’t think I didn’t think of everything.”

Bob laughed along with Rooster the second Natasha turned around, shouting in glee at her family standing directly behind her. She’d thrown herself into her mother and father’s arms, given her sister a tight hug, and a whole new round of tears had sprung as they admired the ring on her finger. Bob nudged his best friend with a grin.

“You did good, Rooster,”

“Oh, this is just the beginning,” Natasha’s attention was turned back to Bradley the second she heard him say that, raising an eyebrow as she missed the sneaky smiles on her family’s faces.

“What else could you have possibly pulled off tonight-”

“Give your man props, Nattie. He knew if he proposed to you without me in attendance, one of us would likely kill him,”

It wasn’t the first time Bob had ever seen you, but it was the first time he’d ever seen you in person. Natasha had shown him many photos of herself and her childhood best friend, the girl she considered more of a sister than anything else, many times before in all their time knowing each other and working together. He’d seen the elementary photos, the awkward middle school photos, the prom photos, and the intermittent photos taken throughout adulthood, anytime the pair of you could find time to see one another.

He hated that, based solely on photos and stories of you, he’d grown the most schoolboy crush in the world on you. He wasn’t sure if there was an “unspoken” code about crushing on the childhood best friend of one of your own best friends, but he felt like it definitely crossed a line.

Rooster was laughing from Bob’s side as you and Natasha practically bounced around in circles together, talking a mile a minute as you admired the ring sitting snugly on her left hand now. With arms wrapped around one another, you’d both turned back to the boys as Bob watched you flash a smile in Rooster’s direction.

“Bradley, nice to finally see you outside of FaceTime screens. And nicely done with the ring, I’m glad you took my advice,”

“Who was I to question the advice of the master?”

Bob felt his breath catch for a moment as your gaze finally turned to him, and he could see you fully for the first time in front of him.

God, you were even prettier up close than in your photos. 

“You must be the infamous Bob that I’ve heard so much about,” Bob wanted to melt under your smile as you flashed your attention toward him. “Thanks for keeping my girl safe in the skies.”

“Well- I’d say she keeps me safe more…”

“Team effort, at least take half the credit,” you’d joked to him, before Natasha had quickly pulled you into conversation once more.

It was stupid, Bob thought, to have a crush on a woman he’d never even met before. He couldn’t help it the entire night as he watched you talk and joke with Natasha’s family, the way you so effortlessly made conversation with the entire Dagger Squad, even though it was the first time you’d met them all. Through photos, videos, and stories alone, Bob had gained a schoolboy crush. But now, as you animatedly explained a story of you and Phoenix from your childhood, he could feel his crush growing from seeing your personality shine.

Thankfully for Bob, he’d barely have to see you. You’d fly home most likely the next day, and the next time he’d see you would be for wedding preparations. That’d be plenty of time to get over his dumb little crush on his best friend’s childhood best friend.

“I’m telling you, it was the funniest night of our entire lives!” Natasha was practically in tears, and so were the rest of the Dagger Squad members as you choked out your words through your own laughter. Bob had a hard time looking away from you as you spoke. “I’m up there on that stage, sold out high school theater guys, ready to give my really intense monologue, and suddenly the set wall just comes CRASHING down with Nattie here clinging onto it!”

“I warned them during set construction that the wall was just begging to fall down!” Natasha laughed, leaning back against Rooster with a shake of her head. “That was immediately the last time I let this one here talk me into helping with the school musicals. Never signed up again, no matter how much she begged.”

“And wait, this was opening night too?” Fanboy chimed in from his space beside Bob as both women gave him a nod. “That somehow makes it even funnier. I can’t thank you enough for bestowing us with the gift of these stories tonight.”

“Yes, yes, consider them a tiny gift for all of Nattie’s friends here tonight,” you turned away from the rest of the squad to look at your best friend, though. “It’s your engagement party, though, so I think it’s time that I gave you your gift.”

Bob could see the smirk on Rooster’s lips as he watched the pair. Bob, along with the ret of their friends, watched intently as well as you dug a key out of your back pocket, dropping it into Natasha’s hand without another word. Bob’s front seater cocked an eyebrow, examining the key in confusion.

“A key…how…nice?”

“Well, I have to make sure someone in this city has a spare key to my place,” Bob felt his breath catch for a second, catching onto your words before Natasha did, as you beamed at your best friend. “To my apartment, over in Logan Heights! If I’m going to be the newest Professor at UC San Diego, I’m going to need a place to live-”

If there was a contest for trying to break the sound barrier with a scream, or even how much one person could cry in a single night, Natasha Trace was pretty close to winning them both. Between her shouts of “YOU’RE MOVING TO SAN DIEGO?” and a lot of loud crying, as Rooster smirked, letting his friends know he knew about this surprise, Bob knew this night had quickly become absolute perfection in both of his friends’ eyes.

Bob also knew that now, his plan to squash his little crush on you had failed before it even had the chance to begin.

He’d managed to avoid seeing you for a few days, but that didn’t mean that Natasha had shut up about you. Every day, while thousands of feet in the air, he’d listened to her ramble on and on about how the pair of you had always wanted to live in the same city together once you were settled in your careers, and she was finally getting her wish. She’d also run about a thousand ideas for how to help you decorate your apartment by him, and somewhere in there had tricked him into agreeing to help herself and Rooster set up your apartment.

“I can’t thank you all enough for the help,” you’d told the three standing in front of you one early Saturday morning, giving them all thankful smiles, before turning to the multitudes of boxes stacked around your living room. “I…frankly have no idea where to start. The boxes are all stacked in their corresponding rooms, and there are a ton of IKEA boxes that need to be assembled in just about every room.”

Rooster clapped a hand on Bob’s shoulder, bringing the attention of both women back to the two of them.

“Good thing Bob and I are masters of IKEA furniture,” Bradley put on an air of confidence as he said it. “When Payback and Fanboy got their apartment a few months ago, we were in charge of all the furniture assembly.”

“And given that we managed to build a bedframe upside down, I wouldn’t call us masters,”

It was the giggle you let out at Bob’s comment that brought his attention back to you, an involuntary flush spreading across his cheeks. You gave a mock salute to the pair.

“Well, how nice it is to know I have such capable young men on my side,” you gestured with your head toward the hallway behind you. “I’ll steal Bob for help with the dining room if Natasha, you and your man can handle my bedroom without putting my bedframe together upside down.”

With another laugh shared, Rooster and Phoenix were quickly moving down the hallway toward your bedroom, but Bob caught the over-exaggerated wink that Rooster sent his way before disappearing into what he assumed was your bedroom.

Trying to calm the blush evident on his cheeks, Bob joined you in the dining room directly off your kitchen. You’d already set yourself down on the floor, breaking into the IKEA box laid before you.

“Can you take that so I don’t lose it while getting all these pieces out?” you’d laughed, handing Bob the instruction manual. He took it from you with a nod, quickly flipping through the packet in his hands.

“A ‘GRÖNSTA’, because that’s not a mouthful,” Bob commented under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear as you laughed again. He took a seat on the ground opposite of you,, placing the packet off to the side and helping you take pieces out of the box, while also trying to calm the heat still prevalent in his cheeks. “Doesn’t help that the instructions don’t make any sense.”

“Right? You’d think the Swedes would learn that their pictures aren’t very helpful,” you both shared a laugh as Bob watched you flip open the instructions, grabbing the pieces needed for the very first leg of the table.

It was torture, almost, being around you with a crush that felt so middle school being harbored inside of him. He barely knew you, but every time you talked and joked, he knew he was already digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole.

“You said the other night you’re a professor?” Bob had settled on asking you about yourself. You were Natasha’s best friend, and now you lived here; getting to know you was going to be inevitable. You gave him a slight hum as an answer, intent on screwing in the leg of the table to the tabletop that Bob was holding in place. “What uh, what will you be teaching?”

“I’m a professor in the art department, there’s like a whole slew of classes I’ll be teaching,” you explained to him as Bob held the table steady so that you could screw in another leg. “Music, theatre, dance, and probably whatever else they throw my way.”

You passed the tools off to Bob as you stood, holding the table upright on it’s two legs so that he could screw in the last two from the ground below you. Truthfully, Bob was thankful for the table between you two, because the more he looked at you, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about just how gorgeous you were in person.

“Take it you’re a creative person, then?”

“After some lead roles in high school musicals, followed by a stint on Broadway fresh out of college…yeah I’d say creative is a good word to use,” Bob laughed, moving out from under the table slightly to grab the final leg from just a few feet away, glancing up at you.

“Broadway? My older sister is a big musical fan, she’d go nuts knowing I know someone who was on Broadway, now,”

“Well, you can tell her that I’d be happy to tell her all about it sometime. I’ve got a whole slew of fun stories from different shows,” you gave him another grin, still holding up the unbalanced table. “I’m surprised Nattie didn’t tell anyone about my Broadway stint; she talks about it like a proud mother to whoever will listen.”

Bob found himself locked in place as he laughed at your comment, fidgeting with the last table leg in his hands as he smiled up at you, finding himself locked in conversation easily. Despite his raging social anxiety that Rooster and Hangman desperately wanted to fix, Bob found it entirely too easy to talk to you.

“To be fair, when we’re thousands of feet in the air, we have a few things to focus on for the sake of our lives,” both of you shared a laugh at his comment. “She’d told plenty of stories about you, though. Showed a lot of photos and videos, too.”

“Good, because she’s told me plenty about you,” Bob could see your grin widen, no doubt because of the red flush overtaking his skin at your comment. “Her incredibly smart and kind WSO with raging social anxiety. Not sure I believe that last part, you seem to be doing just fine.”

“On the outside, maybe. Typically, on the outside and inside, I’m about as useful as a newborn baby deer,”

The laughter that you let out as his joke, Bob decided, was now one of his favorite things. He was so entranced by it that he hadn’t noticed you’d accidentally let go of the table until it had fallen back on him.

The gasp you’d let out rang through the room, but it was broken apart by the laughter that seemed to be flowing out of you even harder now. Bob took a second to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose before shoving the table off of him. Your laughter paused for a moment as soon as the two of you locked eyes, before you both devolved into a fit of laughter that had Bob almost curled in on himself.

“I’m so sorry!” you had finally managed to get out words after a solid few moments, wiping tears from your eyes as laughter still broke through your words. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“Good, because I don’t want to explain to Maverick that I died because of a ‘GRÖNSTA’,” the pair of you devolved into laughter again as you held out your hand for him. Bob took it, despite the full-body flush he felt at simply touching your skin, and let you hoist him back up to his feet.

“Alright, next time I see you, I’m buying you a drink as an apology,” you told him with a pointed look as you moved past him to grab the instruction book.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Ikea,”

“Hey!” Bob laughed as you gasped at his comment, whacking him lightly with the instruction booklet as you grinned at him. “There’s no way we’re making that my nickname!”

“I promise it’s better than any call-sign Hangman will come up with for you-”

“What the hell is happening out here?”

Bob turned on his heel to face the hallway just as you did. Rooster looked lost at what was happening outside the bedroom, as did Natasha, but Bob could see the slightest hint of a smirk on his friend’s face as she looked at him. Bob turned to look at you, just as you looked at him, and you both devolved into another round of laughter that had Rooster even more confused.

Bob Floyd hadn’t stopped thinking about you after that night. He thought about you constantly, how your hand fit and felt in his own, about your laughter, and about that beautiful smile on your face. He was in deep, and he knew it. You never left his mind until he saw you again at the weekly Hard Deck hangout with the rest of the Dagger Squad.

“Well, well, well,” Hangman’s Texan accent was heavy tonight as he turned his gaze away from the pool table before him, and the meaningless game he was playing against Coyote. “Phoenix brought her shadow along tonight!”

Bob turned his head, a smile crossing his lips at the sight of you walking up with Phoenix, two beer bottles in your hands as you rolled your eyes at Hangman’s comments, but Natasha was the one who spoke first.

“I was more so her shadow growing up, followed this one everywhere,” she nudged your shoulder before taking a seat at one of the high tops next to Bradley, smiling widely as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Figured, now that she’s settled in, it was time to start bringing her around to the weekly night out.”

The conversation continued, but Bob’s eyes and grin were glued to you. You made a beeline for his side, leaning against the high-top chair he was seated on and passing him one of the beers in your hand.

“Nice to see you, Lieutenant,” you teased him, clinking the top of your bottle to his own. “I did say I owed you a beer next time I saw you.”

“Thanks, Ikea, I’m sure it will numb the pain of that table falling on me,” Bob threw back, laughing as you lightly hit him on the shoulder the second he said that nickname. “Settled in well?”

“All thanks to you guys and that entire day full of furniture building,” you shot back at him, taking a swig of your drink as you turned to watch the pool game in front of you, still leaning against Bob’s chair. It had you close enough that Bob was overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume, and he decided in that moment it might be his new favorite scent.

He then scolded himself in his head for how weird that sounded. This crush was getting out of hand.

Coyote let out a groan as Hangman beat him once again, the latter letting out a loud whoop that had the rest of the Dagger Squad laughing. The pilot’s attention turned immediately to you, a frown appearing on Bob’s lips immediately as he recognized the flirty grin on Jake’s face.

“What do you say, little lady?” Hangman emphasized his accent even more, making a show of gesturing you toward the pool table with the pool cue in his hands. “Want to play a round?”

You hummed from beside Bob, leaning over him to place your own drink on the table as his face immediately flushed at the action. You didn’t seem to notice, stalking toward the pool table and picking up Coyote’s previous pool cue.

“8 ball or 9 ball?”

“9 ball, I’m all about making shots,” Hangman called back, gesturing toward his side of the table. “Payback can rack ‘em for us. What do you say, sweetheart? Ready to be partners with the greatest pool player Miramar’s ever had the pleasure of hosting?”

“Absolutely,” you shock back, and Bob paused in his sip of his beer as your gaze shot back toward him. “Let’s go, Lieutenant. You’re my partner.”

There was a collective laugh through the entire squad at the look of shock on Hangman’s face, that he quickly tried to wipe away and pretend as if your comment hadn’t affected him. Bob froze for a moment, but the inviting smile on your face drew him to your side within a heartbeat.

Hangman and Coyote were a good pairing, but somehow you and Bob managed to be just slightly better than them both. Bob let out a cheer as you sunk the final ball of the game, happily accepting the high five you sent his way as Coyote and Hangman groaned, having come so close yet so far from winning out.

“Nice shots there, Bob,” you shot at him, nudging his shoulder with your own as you placed your cue down on the table. Bob could feel the confidence he’d been feeling the last hour slightly fade at the close proximity to you, at the sweet smile you were sending up at him from your place next to him.

“Yeah uh- yeah, you too, Ikea-”

“Ikea?” Payback questioned as he and Fanboy hopped up to sit on the table next to the dejected Jake Seresin. He pointed between Bob and their newest friend. “Like…the Swedish furniture place?”

You laughed, your hand coming to rest on Bob’s forearm with a squeeze that had his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Inside joke, Payback, and it’s going to stay that way,”

Bob’s friend went to counter them with another comment when Natasha and Bradley returned to the group, an entire tray of beers in hand as Natasha whistled to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright guys, we’ve got another round of beers for the group,” most of them whooped and hollered as Bradley passed them all out, before Natasha turned to Bob and her best friend to hand them the two in her hands with a wide grin. “And two very special ones for our best friends.”

There was a beat of silence as Bob took his drink from Natasha, taking a swig before he felt something on the outside of the bottle. He turned it over in his hands, seeing a piece of paper barely attached by a thin strip of tape, Rooster’s handwriting scrawled across it:

You might be Phoenix’s back seater, but I want you to be my wingman this time: be my Best Man?

Bob almost felt tears in his eyes as he looked up at Bradley, who was waiting with a grin on his face. Overwhelmed with emotion, Bob simply nodded, standing up as he brought Bradley into a tight hug as the rest of the group realized what was happening before them and began cheering.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD, YES!”

Bob and Bradley both turned to see you flinging yourself into Natasha’s arms, the pair of you jumping and crying together. His eyes trailed to your bottle, long forgotten on the side of the pool table, with a piece of paper bearing Nat’s handwriting taped to the neck:

It was always going to be you: be my Maid of Honor?”

“You know what they say about the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, right Bob?” It was Bradley’s voice mumbled into his ear with a hint of teasing laced through it, his best friend’s hand clamped down on his shoulder with a squeeze. “It’s almost inevitable that they fall in love.”

Bob never had a second to truly process Bradley’s words before Natasha was getting the attention of the entire group once again, with you still glued to her side.

“It might also be a good time to tell you guys we picked a wedding date…we’re getting married in six months!”

The cheering of the entire group ceased for a moment before everyone seemed to shout all at once.

“WHAT?”

Planning a wedding was hard enough on the Bride and the Groom, and it was hard on the Best Man and the Maid of Honor as well. But to somehow turn it around in only six months, especially when almost everyone involved was a Navy fighter pilot who spent most of their time thousands of feet in the air, it made it even harder.

It was even harder for Bob, as he accepted his ‘schoolboy crush’ had grown into a full-blown crush on you, maybe even borderline infatuation, not even a month later than that night at the Hard Deck.

Bob had been a stumbling, blushing mess when you’d given him your number that night after the announcement. It made sense, given that it was going to be up to the two of you to plan most of the festivities leading up to the wedding. It was hard because, besides Bob’s growing affection for you, he couldn’t get the thought of what Rooster had mumbled to him out of his head.

He’d yet, though, worked up the courage to text you regarding ANYTHING other than wedding festivities planning…which were all conversations you had started first.

“Hard Deck, 6 p.m., don’t be late!” Phoenix called out to Bob as she walked away, tucked under Bradley’s arm as they made their way toward the latter's truck. “Hangman insists on that pool rematch tonight!”

“Let a guy shower first!” Bob called back, waving goodbye to his friends as he climbed up into his truck, wiping sweat from his brow. Another day that ended with over 200 push-ups from Maverick, and he refused to show up to the Hard Deck without showering first. Before he could put his car in drive, his phone went off, and his heart skipped a beat as he read your name across the screen.

Soooooooooo, huge favor to ask you here, Bobby…

Bob did his best to calm the hammering that his heart was doing inside of his ribcage. It was just a simple text, that’s all, asking for a favor. He’d texted you before, and while this potentially may not be wedding-related, he could certainly text you again.

Anything, what’s up?

Anything? God, could he make his pining any more obvious? He didn’t get long to mull over his own words before you’d already typed back to him.

My car is in the shop, and a coworker gave me a ride in today, but she had to leave early. I know I promised Jake that pool rematch tonight…any way you could swing by and pick me up from campus?

I know campus is WAY in the opposite direction from the Hard Deck, it’s totally okay if you can’t!

Was Bob freaking out inside? Absolutely. He knew you worked on UCSD’s campus, but he’d never been to your office; he had no need to go there. The last time he’d also been fully alone with you was building furniture and dropping tables in your apartment, and picking you up meant being alone with you…plus, it wouldn’t give him time to go home and shower, and the last thing he wanted to do was put you off potentially because he was sweating buckets in the San Diego sun all day.

Before he could psych himself out, as if there was a little Rooster on his shoulder coercing him, Bob replied.

Of course, send me your office address.

About a half hour later, Bob was forcing himself out of his truck and up to the doors of the building housing the Department of Theater and Dance, frantically trying to fix his hair so he looked semi-acceptable. He’d already had to convince himself that a fifth layer of deodorant was not needed, nor was a second spray of the spare cologne he kept in his car.

Walking through the doors and into the building you’d given him directions to, Bob realized fairly quickly that he was absolutely lost and had no idea how to get to your office. Spotting a receptionist off to the side, Bob made his way over to her and cleared his throat, asking politely for directions to your office.

“I didn’t think Siren had any meetings on the schedule for today…” the receptionist trailed off as she raised an eyebrow at him. Bob let out an awkward laugh, glancing to her nametag and making a mental note that her name was ‘Sydney’, before answering her.

“Uh, no ma’am, sorry for the confusion. I’m a uh…friend of hers. She asked me to pick her up,”

Sydney’s eyes seemed to widen as she smiled, happily sitting up now in the chair once he’d explained himself.

“Oh! You must be the Lieutenant. Bob, right?” he gave her a nod as she typed something at her laptop before turning back to him. “Siren told me you’d be dropping by and would probably need directions- oh, and don’t mind the nickname, it’s just kind of a little inside joke around here that stuck. Take those stairs up to the second floor, the right side is dance studios, and her office is at the end of the hall to the left!”

With a quiet thank you, Bob followed her directions up the stairs and down to the left, though he could hear the music blasting from the dance studios down the hallway. At the very end of the hall, he saw your name on the plaque outside the one door ajar in the hallway.

With a light push to the door, so as not to freak you out, Bob leaned against the doorframe as he saw you working away at your laptop, singing softly to yourself as your own music played. He smiled softly to himself at the sight, even though inside he was still freaking out over the entire situation.

“So…Siren, huh?”

You jumped slightly at the voice until you turned, seeing that it was just Bob standing in the doorway of the office. He watched as you gave a slight laugh, beginning the process of packing your things up as you explained.

“God, of course, Sydney used that in front of you,” you turned, shooting him another smile as you packed your laptop away. “Context to this stupid inside joke probably helps, doesn’t it? I taught a salsa class my first week here, and this one student of mine thought I was such a good dancer she explained that my ‘dancing was so captivating, like a Siren’s song,’ and the next thing I knew the entire staff was calling me that.”

“Not a bad nickname,” Bob tried to reassure you as you joined him at the doorway with your things. “Better than your callsign being your name…or Hangman turning it into baby-on-board instead.”

You rolled your eyes, taking hold of his arm in your hand and dragging him lightly from the office doorway to lock up behind you, hopefully unaware of the frantic beating of his heart at even the slight contact.

“I’d rather get called that than get named after leaving my wingmen out to dry,” you gave him a pointed look that he laughed at before your features softened into something genuine again. “Thank you for being my hero today.”

“Anytime, Ikea,”

It was only halfway through the night at the Hard Deck when you’d let slip to Penny your nickname at work, and like vultures, the rest of the squad was dying to hear the story.

It was that night that, after living in San Diego for a month and a half, Bob watched the rest of his team officially induct you as an honorary member of the Dagger Squad with your very own callsign: Siren. You were officially one of them, even though you basically had been since the moment you’d arrived in the city.

From that day on, something shifted for Bob. He’d chalked it up to the ease he felt around you, the way you made him feel like he didn’t need to be flashy like Hangman to be liked, and he’d found it easier to finally branch out and text you about things NOT related to the wedding. And slowly, but surely, he was stopping by the campus on his very few rare off days from work to bring you lunch, simply talk to you in your office, or offer you a ride to the Hard Deck, knowing full well your car was parked in the campus lot. 

Bob spent the next weeks slowly, but surely, falling in love with you in every way imaginable, and he knew it. It terrified him how easily you’d secured a place in his heart, and you weren’t even aware you had. Phoenix and Rooster had tried to pry the information out of him many times, wondering why he was so engrossed in his phone all the time or why he was suddenly so smiley, but he kept his lips sealed.

Besides, how was he supposed to tell the woman controlling the fighter jet that could kill him that he was kind of falling in love with her best friend?

It was one of those very rare off days that Bob found himself cleaning out his truck in his driveway, knowing that there were a few jackets and extra pairs of shirts, and pants to change into after leaving base that needed to come out of the car and into the wash. What he hadn’t expected was to find your jacket.

You’d worn it the night before to the Hard Deck, actually needing Bob to pick you up since your car was once again in the shop. The temperature was predicted to drop drastically that night, and since Payback and Fanboy had the bright idea to do ‘late night dogfight football,’ you’d told him that you wanted to ensure you were warm. You must have left it in his car when he’d dropped you off that night.

Bob hesitated for half a second before climbing into the driver’s seat of his truck. What if you needed your jacket? It totally wasn’t an excuse to see you.

Sydney knew him well at this point, simply waving hi to him as he entered the familiar campus building. He’d waved back, giving his thanks as she called out that you may not be in your office at this hour.

She’d been correct, but Bob had been by enough to know you had your class schedule written out on the board by the door of your office.

Contemporary Dance, 11:30 a.m. Room 149

The signs were easy enough to follow, leading him down the hallway toward the area he knew held the multiple dance studios. Your voice was easy enough to pick out as he stepped inside the room, catching you leading your class in front of the full wall of mirrors. He’d never seen you dance until now, but it only took a second to see why they all called you Siren.

You moved in a way that was graceful yet powerful, commanding and yet gentle all the same. Bob had to adjust the way he was leaning against the doorway, cursing himself for the fact that he was enjoying your dancing way too much, and the dirty thoughts in his head were fighting to come to the surface. You deserved more than being thought of in that way. You deserved a proper date, maybe over a nice meal with a walk along the beach. You deserved chivalry, for him to always open every door and walk on the outer edge of the sidewalk to keep you safe. You deserved more than his boyish, improper thoughts. What you deserved was the world, and Bob would give it to you if you just said the word.

You’d locked eyes with him in the mirror as the song and dance with your students came to an end, and his heart soared at the way it seemed your face lit up simply at seeing him. You bid a quick goodbye to your students, ushering them out of the room and onto their next class, before it was just the pair of you left as music still played over the room’s speakers.

“You didn’t text me and tell me you were coming?” you questioned the man, moving through the room to fix things up and put away anything your students had managed to move in the process of the class.

“You forgot this last night,” he held up your jacket. “Just figured I’d bring it back, sorry, I should’ve texted-”

“Bob, you’re more than welcome here whenever you want to come,” you cut in quickly, gesturing toward the far wall where your purse lay. “Thank you, just toss it over with the rest of my stuff.”

Bob did as you asked, now fully in the room with you, as he watched you fiddle with things around the room, moving them back to where he assumed they were before class had started. His hands found their way into the pockets of his jeans, keeping himself from wringing his hands together or from fiddling with the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel over and over again.

“I’ve never gotten to see you dance before…I get why they call you Siren,” he swallowed the small lump that seemed to form in his throat, slowly losing his nerve around you like he typically did. “Wish I knew how to do…all that.”

“Well, thank you, contemporary was one of the dance forms I primarily trained in during college,” you shot back at him, spinning on your heel to face him now as you tilted your head. “And come on, anyone can dance, it’s not that complicated.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen me try,” Bob laughed at himself, sheepishly rubbing at the skin on the back of his neck as he looked away from you. “I look like I have two left feet when dancing. Who knows how I’m going to survive this wedding in a few months.”

There was silence in the room before Bob heard you move. His eyes trailed back to you, watching as you grabbed your phone for just a moment, before the sweet sound of Kina Grannis’ voice overtook the room. His eyes stayed glued to you as you came to stand in front of him, holding out your hand with your palm facing the sky as you wore the prettiest, softest smile he’d ever seen.

“Dance with me?”

Bob thought surely that was the moment his heart was going to decide to give out on him, but in gazing at your kind eyes and smile full of affection, he placed his hand in your own and let you lead him.

God, your hand fit in his like it was made to be there.

He silently watched you, allowing you to wrap his one hand around your waist, giving it a squeeze before trailing your other hand to rest on top of his shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” he followed your instructions as you gave a squeeze to his hand, still wrapped in your own. “Just follow me, I promise it’s not hard.”

Bob found his eyes glued to your feet as you slowly moved him around the room together, mumbling apologies every now and again as he stumbled or stepped on your toes, but you only ever gave him a comforting squeeze to his hand or shoulder. He never dared look up at you, afraid he’d lose all his cool if he had to look you in the eyes in this close proximity.

When he stumbled once more, you gave a small laugh, hand moving from his shoulder to his neck, gently tilting his jaw upwards to look at you.

“I promise it’s much easier if you don’t watch your feet,”

His eyes met yours, and it was like the entire world went silent in that moment, but the music playing through the sound system seemed to get louder.

But I can’t help, falling in love with you.

“There are those pretty blue eyes,” you teased as a blush coated his cheeks in seconds. It brought on another smile to see a similar one on your own, though. “Did Bradley tell you about their bachelor and bachelorette party idea?”

“He said they had an idea, just hadn’t told me yet,”

“Nat told me they thought a big combined party would be best, given that this friend group is just one giant pile of pilots,” Bob laughed, missing the feel of your hand on his jaw as it moved back to his shoulder. “Guess you and I have to get planning.”

“Maverick said Cyclone made it work so that we can all have a week off for it, just have to let them know when,”

“Perfect. Know what else is perfect?” Bob shook his head as your grin widened. “You are dancing perfectly since you stopped looking at your feet!”

Bob’s eyes widened as he looked down at his feet for just a moment, realizing you were right, before looking back up at you. It was like the world was throwing every sign in the world at him as the music seemed to feel louder once again.

For I can’t help, falling in love with you.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat once again, Bob mustered the softest smile for you he could.

“Guess I just have a great teacher,”

The weeks passed, and the wedding was only a month and a half out. You’d flown home with Natasha to your hometown in order to wedding dress shop with Nat’s sister and mother, and every detail had been meticulously planned out for the wedding. The venue had been chosen, a gorgeous little venue in the heart of San Diego just big enough to house the 150 or so guests that had been invited, and just a few blocks walk for the wedding party and family members who would be staying at the Lafayette Hotel San Diego.

The Best Man and the Maid of Honor had finalized the plans for the joint bachelor/bachelorette trip: a week stay in a gorgeous home by the Colorado River and just an hour’s drive from Lake Mead and Las Vegas, plenty of options for relaxing and true partying, just as Bradley and Natasha wanted. It had taken a while for Bob and you to hammer out the details, many dinners had been held in your office after stopping by, and many phone calls that managed to devolve into late-night conversations having nothing to do with the party planning. But Bob wouldn’t have it any other way.

He was hopelessly in love, and he knew it. Unfortunately for him, Bradley had caught on, too.

“Let’s go!” Natasha called out to the boys as they hopped out of Bradley’s truck, already running through the parking lot toward the campus building housing your office. “I want to get on the road before Hangman and the others beat us there. I want the best pick of the bedrooms!”

“Sweetheart, we’re the Bride and Groom, I’m pretty sure we automatically get best pick,” Nat flipped off her fiancé as the boys both laughed. The second she’d turned around, Bradley threw his arm over Bob’s shoulder and tugged him in. “So…want to finally tell me what’s up with you and little Miss Siren?”

Bob shook his head, trying to fight off the flush on his cheeks. The questions from Bradley on the topic had increased tenfold over the last few weeks, and it was getting harder to lie to him.

“We’re in charge of handling a bunch of the backend shit of your wedding, Rooster,” Bob managed to remind his friend as they reached the doors of the campus building. “We spend a lot of time together, that’s all.”

“But you’re in love with her, are you not?” Bob groaned, opening the glass doors and letting Bradley walk ahead of him. “I’m just asking! We can all see it, the entire squad has money in the betting pool for when you two will finally buck up and figure it out. Phoenix has interrogated her so many times and gets nowhere on it.”

“We’re about to leave on your joint bachelor/bachelorette trip, there’s enough love in the air with the two of you. Don’t worry about me and my non-existent love life,”

Bradley made another comment under his breath, but Bob didn’t catch it. His gaze quickly found Natasha at the receptionist's desk, talking to Sydney.

“I’ve been here once, but the building still confuses me. I can’t remember how to get to her office,” Natasha explained to the girl as Sydney simply laughed, waving it off.

“I understand. I used to get confused here all the time. It’s just up those stairs-” she cut herself off as she saw Bob and Bradley approach, her face brightening up at the sight of the former. “Oh, Lieutenant! You guys don’t need directions, he knows where he’s going. I think she canceled her last class of the day, so she should be up in her office!”

Bob felt that flush return in full force as Bradley clapped him on the shoulder.

“Not in love with her my ass,” he gave his shoulder a squeeze after mumbling the words before moving to his fiancée's side, and Natasha was just watching Bob with a cocked head.

“How often are you here, Floyd?”

Bob stumbled for a moment, his hand immediately coming to rub the back of his neck as he tried to find the words. He wanted to say he wasn’t here THAT often…but he knew that was a lie.

Like always, you somehow managed to save the day.

“Oh! I told you guys you could’ve waited in the car!” you’d called out, descending the stairs from your office with your suitcase for the week in hand. You bid your goodbyes to the two students walking at your sides, coming to stand beside Bob as you glanced around the small group with a questioning eyebrow. “I could cut the tension with a knife here. What did I miss?”

“Just…learning some new information,” Natasha settled on, a grin lighting up her face as she hooked her arm through your own, dragging you away from the two boys who could only laugh. “IT’S PARTY TIME!”

An almost 6 hours drive to the booked AirBNB for the week was a slight pain in the ass, but the four of you managed as you all continuously joked that you hadn’t ended up delegated to ride in Hangman’s truck with him. Bob couldn’t help the fact that every so often, his gaze drifted to the backseat in the rearview mirror, to where you and Nat were engrossed in a thousand different conversations that differed from his own and Rooster’s. 

Without fail, you seemed to be looking back at him every time with a small smile that he treasured as if it were the sun itself.

Hangman, Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy had, sadly, beaten the Bride and Groom’s group to the house, but any bitter feelings surrounding it were forgotten as they’d gotten a look at the gorgeous home in person. Nestled in an area of the desert with barely any neighbors and gorgeous views for miles, including the Colorado River just down the hill from the long driveway, no one could harbor any ill feelings about anything as the sun was setting over the mountains and bathing the entire home in red, oranges, and pinks.

Bob had taken his own suitcase and yours, ignoring your protests, and brought them into the house. Everyone seemed to be running about, checking out the amenities, as some people put their claims on the bedrooms already. Natasha had dragged you off in the direction of the game room when Bob caught sight of Rooster whispering to Hangman and Fanboy, all three men watching him with a smirk.

“Hey, baby-on-board,” Hangman called out for him, smirk growing ever cockier by the second. “The rest of us have already staked claim on rooms, and of course, the couple has to share. Only room left is the sofa bed room in the back of the house…think Siren would mind sharing with you?”

If Bob’s eyes could pop out of his head, they would’ve. He shook his head, already knowing by the smirks on all three boys’ lips that this was planned well in advance.

“Guys-”

“Hey, Siren!” Fanboy called out just as you’d reentered the room. You stopped dead in your tracks, cocking an eyebrow at the guys as you waited. “Claims have already been staked on most of the bedrooms, perks of being the first ones here. You don’t mind sharing with Bobby boy, do you?”

“Guys, really-”

“I don’t mind,” you’d cut off Bob’s comment as he turned to you, eyes wide. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he could’ve sworn he saw a flush cross your own skin as you looked at him. “Really, as long as it’s okay with you, I don’t mind.”

Bob looked back at the boys and their expectant smirks, then back to you, before finally taking a deep breath.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s fine with me,”

The truth was, Bob could barely focus on the entirety of dinner with the squad. He laughed, made jokes, and participated in conversations across the entire table the entire night, but his mind was stuck on the fact that he had to share a bed…with you.

Those nerves didn’t rest even as you both retired to your room for the night. The sofa bed had already been pulled out and made for the two of you. Bob had simply crawled into bed in silence, situating himself under the covers.

You entered the room moments later, having changed in the bathroom down the hall, and sent him a sweet smile as you crawled into your own side of the bed. Lying side by side, heads on their respective pillows, you both simply lay there and smiled toward one another.

“Sorry you got stuck with me,”

“I didn’t get stuck with you,” you’d rolled your eyes at his comment. “I’d take sharing with you over any of those Neanderthals any day.”

“Just promise not to drop any tables on me this trip, okay, Ikea?”

You’d laughed, even as you’d reached your foot out under the covers and kicked him lightly on the shin.

“If I managed to do that, I think I should get an award,” it was his turn to laugh as you flipped over, turning the bedside lamp off before tucking yourself into the covers. “Night, Bob.”

“Night, Ikea-”

“We’ve got to STOP with that nickname,”

He’d fallen asleep comfortably that night at your side, still laughing lightly to himself over that dumb little nickname he had for you that had found a way to stick. He wished his sleep had lasted longer, but it was quite the sight to see you leaning over him and shaking his shoulder with a grin.

“Get up!”

Bob groaned as you moved back to your side of the bed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his glasses. The second his eyes focused, he checked the time on his phone. Slightly after 5:30 in the morning. Bob let out another groan when he saw the time.

“Why are you awake-”

“Just trust me and come on!”

He’d barely been out of bed and on his feet when you’d taken his hand in your own, dragging him down the dark hallways of the house. He wasn’t even fully awake enough to register your hand wrapped around his own.

The second you’d dragged him out onto the large patio deck of the home, he understood why you’d woken him up so early. If sunset had been pretty from this view, sunrise might’ve been even prettier.

The deep purple hues that crawled across the sky, blending into the fading night sky full of stars over the desert. The beginnings of reds and pink crawling out from the horizon, casting itself over the rolling desert hills and the Colorado River just barely in the distance, close enough he could see the colors reflecting off the water. He’d found himself leaning against the railing, gazing out at the colors for a moment before turning to you at his side, finding you already looking up at him.

“It��s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

You’d turned back to the view, but Bob’s eyes, full of wonder, stayed locked on you as he spoke.

“Prettier than anything I’ve ever seen,”

You’d stayed out there for awhile, small talk flowing through you, reminiscing on moments with the squad such as that terrible late night dogfight football, or the time you’d all watched on as Rooster handed Maverick’s ass to him in pool at the Hard Deck. Your hands sat on the railing next to one another, just barely touching, as your arms sat pressed up against one another. If Bob had more confidence, if he’d thought that maybe you felt the same for him, he might’ve taken the leap and reached out to take your hand in his own.

Neither of you had any clue how long you’d been out there admiring the view and simply talking. Bob heard a small noise behind you both after a while, glancing behind you both. Rooster simply stood in the patio doorway, a genuine grin on his face as he raised his coffee cup at his best friend with a wink, before leaving you alone together once more.

It was a week of memories that none of them would ever truly forget.

The entire day spent on the shores of Lake Mead was full of laughter, and what Fanboy had nicknamed ‘dogfight chicken’, though it didn’t have any different rules than a normal game of chicken did. You and Bob had reigned victorious through every single round, though Bob wasn’t sure how. His thoughts were flooded with you, and the impure thoughts he was having at the thought that his head was, quite literally, between your thighs as you sat on his shoulders, was driving him insane.

That next morning was worse for his thoughts, when he’d awoken early in the morning to you nestled in his arms, head resting against his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. He’d laid still like that for what felt like hours, both terrified of waking you up and freaking you out with the position you were in, while also savoring every second of it in fear it would never happen again. He’d pretended to be asleep when you finally woke up, letting you be the one to extricate yourself from his arms. Neither of you mentioned it to the other.

One full day and night had been dedicated to the Las Vegas strip and all it had to offer. Rooster was constantly nudging Bob in the side the entire day, reminding his friend that his eyes were supposed to remain on your face, not on the slit of the dress you wore running up and exposing your thigh.

No one knew who had drunkenly suggested it, but somehow they’d found themselves at a Magic Mike show. Plenty of videos had been taken as a form of blackmail as Hangman was subjected to a lap dance from the performers of the show, constantly telling Coyote to ‘piss off about it’ the rest of the night.

That next morning, Bob had woken up to you entangled in his arms once again. And the morning after that.

The Dagger Squad’s final day of the trip was spent together at the home, simply enjoying one another's company as more stories of everyone’s childhood had been shared across the board. Bob had even been roped into a story of him working on his parents' ranch back in Montana at one point, which prompted a whole discussion on whether Bob was technically considered a cowboy or not.

The WSO had found himself frozen in the kitchen that night, simply watching you from the window. You and Natasha sat on the patio together, pointing up at the light pollution-free sky as you seemed to be watching the stars, discussing what could be seen that night, hundreds of thousands of miles above your heads. He’d watched you throw your head back laughing, and that tug in his chest when he looked at you seemed to increase tenfold in that moment.

It wasn’t long later that Rooster was opening his bedroom door, coming to find that it was Bob standing on the other side of the door and knocking frantically.

“Bob-”

“You were right…I’m in love with her,”

“Well,” both boys turned, seeing Natasha had entered the hallway at just the right moment to join her future husband for bed and hear the conversation occurring. Bob’s blood ran cold, fearing the worst, but she simply smiled at him. “It’s nice to finally hear you admit the obvious.”

A long conversation with his best friends came with the feeling of a small weight being lifted off his shoulders, of finally having admitted his feelings out loud. They’d encouraged him to act on it, to tell you how he felt, but Bob couldn’t get rid of the nagging insecurity in the back of his head that he was never going to be good enough for you.

When he’d returned to your room that night and crawled into bed, you were still awake. You had both simply laid there in silence for a moment, staring at one another, and Bob could see the hesitation in your movements for just a moment. You seemed to throw your inhibitions out the window, moving across the bed and slotting yourself into Bob’s arms, curling yourself around him as you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

It threw Bob for a loop. Every night this week, you’d awoken like this, tangled together, but he’d assumed that it had just naturally happened in your sleep, that one of you reached out for the other. But you were awake, you were both aware of what you were doing, and yet you took the leap anyway. Bob chose not to push his luck, not to ask, and simply wrapped his arms around you, closing his eyes with you tucked right against him where he felt you belonged.

“Can I tell you something?” Bob whispered to you after moments of silence wrapped up together, neither of you addressing the compromising position you’d put yourself in.

“Always,”

“You…” Bob struggled for a moment, trying to find his words and the right thing to say. ‘Love’ was dancing on his lips, but his insecurities tugged it back in. When he spoke again, he knew he meant the words, even if it was not what he meant to say. “You’re my best friend. Don’t tell Rooster that.”

There was a pause, then a soft laugh, as you seemed to cling to him tighter, your words and breath ghosting over his skin.

“You’re my best friend, too. Just don’t tell Nat,”

There had been another shift in the relationship between you and Bob in those next few weeks leading to the wedding night, and everyone seemed to be able to see it. A simple confession, albeit not the confession Bob had wanted to say that night, seemed to change everything.

Anytime the group was out together, you both were glued to one another’s side. This time, unlike in the months prior, it was as if the pair of you had to be touching. If you were all walking somewhere, your arm was linked through his with your hand resting on his bicep. The entire group noticed the way that, as you all hugged one another goodbye at the end of a night, you and Bob seemed to linger in one another’s embraces longer than usual.

There was the night at the Hard Deck, laughing over some story Maverick was telling them from the glory days, that Bob felt your hand reach for his under the table, wordlessly slotting itself into his own. That moment replayed in his head every single day and night, even as he fell asleep late into the morning hours with you still on the phone with him.

They were the moments that he couldn’t help but replay constantly, even as he stood in the preparation room of the wedding venue, adjusting his dress whites to ensure that nothing was out of place.

“How are we looking over here, Rooster?” Hangman called out, moving through the room to check on the groom himself. 

“Ready to do this thing,” Rooster told him as Bob joined the pair across the room. Bradley placed a hand on each of their shoulders, his Best Man and his only other Groomsman, all standing together in their matching Navy dress whites, and gave them a thankful smile. “Thank you both for doing this. For being here with me.”

Bob grinned at his best friend as Rooster pulled them both into a hug, before it was go time.

Bradley was already stationed at the altar behind the double doors before them, leaving Bob to stand just behind the doors, ready to lead the charge down the aisle for his best friends to get married. He turned as he heard the voice of Natasha’s sister behind them, taking her place beside Hangman for the walk. His gaze then turned to you as you slotted yourself to his side, and it took everything in him not to whisk you off your feet the second he laid eyes on the form fitting, navy blue dress clung to your body, or the plunging neckline he was desperately trying to keep his eyes off of.

“She’s all set up with her dad back there,” you’d told him softly, winding your arm through his as your hand lay on his forearm, eyes never leaving his own. “We’re good to go the second the music kicks in. You ready?”

“Think Rooster would kill me if I wasn’t, he’s antsy down there,” you’d laughed, and Bob had smiled. His favorite sound in the world. “You…you look beautiful.”

“Right back at you, Lieutenant,”

There were smiles and tears throughout the crowd as you and Bob led the charge down the aisle, taking your places on either side of where Natasha and Bradley would stand. The second Natasha was escorted down the aisle by her father, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house, Rooster and you included. Bob found himself watching you, though, as you happily took Nat’s bouquet from her hands through your tears.

They recited after their Pastor, they exchanged their vows, but Bob found his eyes betraying him and glancing at you more often than at his best friends. Every time he looked to you, he found you were already looking at him.

He knew there was no going back the second Natasha Trace and Bradley Bradshaw were pronounced man and wife, that they’d pulled one another into their first kiss as a married couple, and his eyes had drifted to you in the celebration. All he could think in that moment was that he wanted that to be you and him, that he wanted to hold you and kiss you and call you his forever.

It felt like a blur to Bob what happened next. The entire Dagger Squad joined together to perform the Arch of Swords for their best friends, smiles never leaving anyone’s faces. Bob had sat right next to you during dinner, unable to keep his eyes off of you the entire time. Then, you’d rose to your feet and took hold of the microphone passed to you, preparing for the speech you’d spent your entire life writing.

“If you don’t know me, the truth is you probably indirectly do. Because any story that Natasha has told you from any point in her life? I was most likely at every single one of those,” you’d turned to Natasha the second you said that, and Bob could see the tears in both of your eyes. “Natasha, or as many in this room know you, Phoenix, you hit me on the head with a soccer ball in Kindergarten, and I knew from that moment on you would be my best friend. I watched you fall in and out of love with both soccer and softball growing up, witnessed you punch two middle schoolers who broke my heart, and watched you fall in love with the idea of someday flying F-18s for the rest of your life. I’m forever proud to say that I’ve watched you achieve everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and I’m so happy that I’ve gotten to be here for all of it. But most importantly, I’m glad your passion also brought you the love you have always deserved. Bradley, I’m proud to call you one of my best friends in life now, and I could not be happier to know that you two have found one another.”

You’d raised your champagne glass through your tears, as the room followed suit, even as Natasha silently sobbed from her place beside Bradley.

“They say that love is simply just a friendship that caught on fire,” Bob’s breath caught for just a moment, swearing that he saw your eyes flicker to him for just a moment, before you continued to talk. “May it burn bright for many years to come, and fly higher than you both do every day in the San Diego skies.”

There were still the remnants of tears streaming down your face as you took your place beside Bob once again, allowing Natasha’s sister to give her own speech. Bob watched you in silence before, in a leap of faith, reaching his hand out for your own. You took it without a word, squeezing onto it in a vice-like grip and refusing to let go.

The reception was in full swing, and everyone was in party mode. Natasha and Bradley were the stars of the show in their first dance, revealed in their speeches previously to have been taught by none other than you.

The bouquet toss had the entire Dagger Squad erupting into cheers, almost trying to carry you off the dance floor, the second Natasha’s bouquet seemed to find you among the young women in the crowd as if meant just for you.

You. God, you had consumed every ounce of Bob’s thoughts for weeks and months now, and tonight was no different. In the ever-changing landscape that was life, you were like the North Star in Bob’s eyes, his one constant since the moment you’d walked into the Hard Deck.

“As a wedding gift to us, could you just grow some balls and finally ask her out?”

Bob jumped, startled, as Bradley and Natasha appeared at his side from where he stood on the outside of the dance floor. He sighed, seeing the expectant looks on their faces, before glancing back to where you danced with the rest of the fighter pilots you’d grown so close to over the last few months.

“She’s, like, walking perfection on legs, guys. She could do better than the socially awkward fighter pilot that is…me,”

“Except she doesn’t want to,” Natasha cut in. She sighed, resting a hand on Bob’s shoulder before glancing out toward her best friend. “I’ve known her my entire life, Bob, and she doesn’t take to people the way she’s taken to you. She looks for you in every room, she talks about you constantly…she was dying to meet you just from the photos I’d shown you. I’ve never seen her act the way she does when she’s with you, Bob.”

The words sparked a small flame of hope in his chest, a flame just strong enough to push away the insecurities that begged to claw their way out. He looked back at his best friends, the glow of marriage surrounding them, with that flame of hope shining in his eyes.

“What if you’re wrong?”

“What if we’re right?” Rooster cut in, giving him a small shrug. “Maverick said it best to me months ago…don’t think, just do.”

Don’t think, just do. Maverick always knew what to say, didn’t he?

A slower song had begun on the dance floor, and Hangman could see Bob stalking their way. A smirk crossed the man’s face as he took hold of your hand, spinning you in Bob’s direction, before leading the rest of the Dagger Squad off the floor.

Bob stood in front of you, mustering every ounce of confidence he could find in him, as he held out his hand toward you, palm facing the sky.

“Dance with me?”

A smile might’ve been permanently etched into your lips as you took his hand in yours. Bob’s other hand immediately found your waist, his hand resting on your lower back as he tugged you into him as tightly as he could, your other hand resting on his shoulder as the iconic Berlin song played through the reception.

Watching in slow motion as you turn around and say…take my breath away.

Neither of you said a word for a minute, though your eyes never left one another as you simply swayed side to side across the dance floor, fully aware of the watchful eyes of your friends on you from the sidelines.

“You know…” you were the one to start the conversation, somehow managing to pull yourself even closer to Bob. There was a teasing tone to your voice, nose bumping against his for a moment. “I’ve been kind of waiting for you to ask me out for months.”

A weight seemed to leave Bob’s shoulders the second you spoke, his mind finally being calmed with the fact that you did, indeed, return his affections, that it wasn’t all a misunderstanding in his mind.

“Thought at first it broke some kind of friendship code to fall in love with your best friend’s childhood best friend. Then…I got scared you wouldn’t feel the same,” you laughed lightly at his comment, though Bob could see the way you brightened the second he’d said the word ‘love’ in his explanation. “How long…how long have you felt this way?”

“The schoolgirl crush started when I dropped that table on you, even though I thought you were plenty cute just based on the photos Nat had showed me before,” to was Bob’s turn to laugh as your hand traveled up to the nape of his neck, tangling gently in the hair now carded through your fingers. Somewhere behind them, he swears he could hear Fanboy cheer at the motion. “Somewhere in the midst of a bunch of mini lunch dates and dancing with you for the first time is when it changed.”

“I’ve got you beat there,” Bob countered with a laugh, looking down sheepishly. “After I picked you up from work that one time, when the rest of the guys started calling you Siren. It changed for me after that night.”

There was a slight tug on the hair threaded through your fingers, and Bob resisted everything in him not to let out a groan. His eyes flicked back up to you immediately, almost pleading with you not to do that again before he dragged you out of the reception, and he could see the amusement dancing in your eyes at the reaction you received.

“It's not a competition. We know now,” you slid the hand that rested in his own back up his arm, instead cupping his jaw in your hand as a shiver ran through his body. “Though, I thought I was being quite obvious with literally cuddling you in bed.”

Bob’s now freehand found your hip, eliminating any space between you both as if it were even possible. Given their surroundings, he wouldn’t be surprised if there were murmurs about how what was happening was far from appropriate for the setting they were in.

“It should’ve been. We can blame my insecurities for that one,”

He watched you in silence, still swaying to the beat of the song. Your eyes flickered, for the briefest of moments, down to his lips as Bob’s grip tightened from the sight.

Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say…take my breath away. My love, take my breath away.

His eyes fluttered half shut, throwing caution to the wind now that he knew he had you, and leaned in. His lips were met with your finger pressed against them, though, and when he’d opened his eyes, your pupils may have been blown wider and your voice may have gained a slight rasp it didn’t have before, but there was clear amusement dancing across your features.

“Trying to kiss me at the wedding of our best friends? How scandalous, you know it’s their night to be the center of attention,” Bob groaned, even as his cheeks flushed, forehead falling to your shoulder. He felt your body shake with laughter before your lips ghosted over his ear. “We’ve waited this long, Lieutenant, what’s a little longer?”

Longer was torture, Bob had decided, but it was a torture spent with you still wrapped around his side. You’d danced the night away into the early hours of the morning with all of your friends, until it was finally time to end what was surely the best night of Natasha and Bradley’s lives.

The newly married couple had bid everyone goodbye before they were off to their own private villa for the night. The wedding party and family made the trek down the road together toward the Lafayette, Hangman and Coyote holding up a very drunk Payback who was belting Celine Dion down the sidewalk.

You’d thrown your head back laughing, hand intertwined with Bob’s as you brought up the rear of the pack.

The squad all said their goodbyes to Maverick and Penny, who’d essentially stood in as Rooster’s family, and to Natasha’s own family, before they’d made their way to the floor blocked off specifically for them. Everyone had thrown out goodnight, disappearing into the private rooms to sleep off their hangovers into the early hours of the morning.

Bob was the last the the Top Gun pilots to still be standing at his door. He’d fished out his own door key, before pausing before inserting it into the lock, glancing down the other end of the hallway.

There you stood, shoes in hand as you leaned against the doorway of your open hotel room. Your eyes never left his, and Bob’s room key found it’s way back into the pocket of his dress whites as he was across the entire hotel room floor in seconds.

Your eyes never seemed to leave one another as you both drifted into the room, Bob’s hand splayed across the edge of the room door, shutting it softly behind you both. The second it was closed, the room was only bathed in the soft, nighttime light of Dan Diego that poured through the curtains and the warm, yellowed glow of the single lamp lighting up the corner of the room.

Bob’s hands found your waist as yours found his neck, and he fell into you as if you were two atoms destined to collide with one another from the moment you met.

Your lips were soft against his, your lipstick already having been smudged off throughout the night from the many drinks passed between friends, but he could taste the cherry and vanilla Chapstick buried underneath. That simple taste elicited a groan from deep inside of him as his desire to simply feel you, to hold you, overtook Bob.

He backed you into the closest wall, right beside the door of the room, and your body immediately arched into him. His hand slid it’s way from your waist down to your thigh, digging into it as he hoisted it up around his own waist, the slit up the dress giving way to allow you to cling to him in earnest.

His hair was a mess as your hands moved into it, your lips never parting. He simply tilted his head, swallowing the moan you let out the second he gripped onto your waist tighter and tugged you impossible closer.

“Pretty sure Fanboy is right next door,” Bob had managed to mumble into your lips, unable to fully pull away from you. You nipped at his lower lip, this time a deep moan leaving him which had you giggling back into the kiss.

“I’ve waited long enough to kiss you, Bob Floyd. I don’t really give a damn if we keep him awake,”

Bob pulled back slightly in the dim lighting, hand leaving your thigh to instead cup your cheek, to simply observe and memorize everything about you. He loved you, he loved you more than he ever thought it was possible to love someone, and he never wanted to forget the look in your eyes right now as you looked at him through lust riddled eyes.

Your hand found his, removing it from your cheek and instead to your back. His breath caught for a second as it touched the zipper at the top, and one single look in your eyes had him tugging it down as slowly and sensually as possible.

Bob could feel your breath catch the second his lips found your neck, leaving a trail across your skin and down to your collarbone as the zipper finally came undone, the pool of navy colored fabric dropping into a heap on the floor.

You’d barely given him a second to truly admire the masterpiece he thought was you as a whole before you’d tugged him back into a kiss, your hands working overtime to gently undo the buttons holding his Navy dress whites together.

His hat was long gone on the floor, and soon every article of his dress whites joined it. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, watching him quickly lean down to grab the formal clothing of his and yours, folding it neatly into a pile in the corner. When he’d looked back up, you were standing just inches away, falling back into his arms without another word. His own breath caught, shiver running down his skin at the feeling of your soft, supple skin simply on his igniting a fire in him he’d never felt before.

Your hands came up, adjusting his glasses to sit on the bridge of his nose as they were meant to, and Bob wasted no time in pulling you back into a bruising kiss that had you falling back onto the lush, fancy bedspread behind you both.

As you’d crawled your way back up the bed, head hitting the pillows waiting by the ornate headboard, Bob simply hovered over you, taking you all in fully for the first time, memorizing every square inch of you that existed. He wanted it all committed to memory.

His eyes trailed back to yours finally, to the shining affection and adoration in them, and the words finally tumbled out of his mouth.

“I love you,”

Your hands cupped his jawline, bringing him back down to you to place a gentle, loving kiss on his lips that he sighed right into, leaning into the feel of you that he was already addicted to.

“I love you too,”

The pair of you stayed there for a moment, wrapped up in the sweetest and most loving of kisses that rivaled the passionate moment the moment you’d stepped into the room. Until Bob began to laugh lightly against your lips, the actions bringing a smile to your own face.

“What’s so funny, Lieutenant?”

He shook his head, backing up for just a moment to fully look down at you.

“It’s just uh…you know what they say about the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, don't you?”

Your laughter rang through the room immediately, and he knew Natasha must have said something to you along the same lines of what Bradley had whispered to him in the middle of the Hard Deck. Your hands ran down his shoulder, taking hold of his biceps with a small squeeze.

“Something about how they’re always destined to fall in love. God, how cliché of us,”

Every moment with you flooded Bob’s head in that moment as he looked down at you. From the moment you’d walked into the Hard Deck, to the moment he danced with you, to that fated trip where it all changed, and every moment in between. To now, as you laid almost bare before him, gazing up at him with love written across every inch of your features, as if you’d do just about anything he could’ve asked of you in that moment. And you would, just as he’d do the same for you.

So, his thumb ran across your lips for a moment, before he’d taken the back of your neck in his hand and tugged you upwards into another passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of love his body had into it.

“Yeah…but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”