#you can ask me the whole history of coffee and you will get it

[crowfully]

fog and quilt for ask game:)))🍂🍁🍂

fog: pretty good i guess??? i know some survival skills and the fact that people would only need to survive makes me kinda happy (just because you can do whatever the fuck you want, as long as u don't hurt people and stay alive)

quilt: plain. no sugar, no honey or whatever. btw good coffee is better without sugar. im a barista. trust me.

[phantomrose96]

Sham Sacrifice

(Hi it's time for my favorite headcanon)

...

Vlad Masters sat firm and proper on the Fenton Family couch, legs crossed, teacup pinched in his fingertips, fighting subtly against the sinkhole that came with the mistake of taking Jack’s usual spot on the couch. He appeared with all the same charm and delightfulness of an ant swarm rearranging your picnic.

Danny stood at the doorway, just-still-in-the-kitchen, just not inviting himself to join the adults in the living room where Jack boomed and rambled and Vlad sat so stiff and polite and nice that his tea in his hands was going cold.

“Oh, Danny you’ll love this story—Danny, you should join us—Danny this was, what, summer of ’84? When was that heatwave, Vladdy? The one where you—”

“There’s no need to bore Daniel with the mad ravings of two old kooks, Jack. Kids would rather be off at the mall or—some store, surely. No need to stick around Daniel on my behalf. I assure you I won’t be offended if you leave.”

“No worries, V-man. I’m good right here. I love hearing Dad’s stories." Danny met Vlad's challenge, speaking with more poisonous courtesy than Vlad had proffered first. "In fact I think he should tell a few more, if he’s got more in mind.”

“In fact I do have more in mind—” Jack answered.

Neither Danny nor Vlad were listening to Jack. They held eye-contact, Danny with a stern unblinkingness of a sheepdog on duty. A lot was said without words. A lot was understood when Vlad decided to visit through the front door. Vlad only used the front door when he wanted something.

And it was never good when Vlad wanted something.

“—the core reactor project, yeah? That summer? That was in the lab with no A/C. Top floor. We were sweating like pigs, all of us. And I dared you to eat the really moldy pizza from our fridge the night before and you ralphed right into—”

“—Surely you remember this more fondly than I do. Daniel, really, you can go.”

Not a chance.

“Actually,” Danny answered, brightening some as his opportunity struck. “I am interested in this. For science class I need to write a report on the invention of an important piece of technology. I was gonna ask Mom and Dad about the Ghost Portal. And now that you’re here, I can get the whole history.”

Jack made a giddy little noise. He leaned forward, words primed, but Vlad was quicker to the draw.

“Sorry to say, your faith in me is unfounded. I wasn’t the portal guy back in college—that was always your mother and father’s passion project. I was their skeptic.”

“Bet that’s got you feeling pretty foolish right now, doesn’t it V-man?” Jack chided, a quick jab to Vlad’s ribs that nearly unseated the teacup from his suspended saucer. “Considering the fully-functioning portal right beneath our toes.”

“I hardly feel foolish, Jack. Your calculation for the portal in college was never going to work.”

“What do you mean? Of course it did.” Jack thumped the ground with his foot. “It’s running the old girl right now.”

At this, Vlad’s eyes narrowed. For the first time he’d been shaken off whatever skeezy machinations had brought him in. His pride was being challenged, and by Jack no less.

“Absolutely not. With that calculation? Absolutely not.”

“Well forget the tea biscuits Vlad, because you’re going to be eating your words in a second. Mads, hold my spot,” Jack said, as if anyone was planning to take his spot. He bounced from the couch, scooted from the living room, and vanished into the dark maw of the lab stairs, leaving only the waning beat of his footsteps behind.

His absence filled only a swallowing few seconds. The footsteps returned, bounding upward, creaking with his heavy cadence, and Jack bounced back into the room in much the manner he left. A pad of yellow lined paper was clutched in his hand. When he dropped it on the coffee table, it revealed row after row of tight scribble, churning math, carrying down the page and occupying two entire pages more that Jack flipped through.

“Same baby I came up with in college. It just needed heavier dampening and higher voltage than what we made back then. The portal downstairs has that in spades. Well, in like two-thirds of a spade.” Jack tapped something on the last line. “The projection was still only hitting 70% of the threshold we calculated to reach dimension penetration. But it’s an art, not just a science. We fired it up anyway, and it took!”

Vlad grabbed the paper pad, agitated. His eyes ran over it. Then again. Until he settled on one line, a firmness overcoming his face. He tossed the pad back onto the coffee table, and Vlad leaned back into the couch, arms crossed.

“The lambda, Jack.”

“The lambda?”

“Check it again.”

Jack did, lips pursed, pad of paper nearly swallowed in his big meaty hand.

“What about--?”

“It squares. The units don’t balance otherwise. It originates from an integration step of λ*∂λ/∂t. It squares.”

Jack’s brow remained furrowed, firm, until delight cracked into his eyes, and he let out a laugh.

“Gods, my handwriting is gonna be the death of us. Mads,” he tapped something unseen on the second page. “That’s the genius of Vladdy. Cracked this puppy wide open with just a glance. I never noticed that in all my checking. That explains the missing 30%, at least. That explains how the portal took. Lucky for you Danny that Vlad was here—”

“Jack,” Maddie said.

“—your report can have the correct formula. It’ll be—”

“—Jack—”

“—A+ worthy—”

“—Jack,” Maddie said, curt. “Lambda is the ambient ecto-energy. It’s a few ten-thousandths of a unit.”

“It—huh.”

Maddie had surfaced a pen from her pocket. She sheared a few blank pages out from the back of the pad and started the formula fresh. She made quick work of copying it over, quicker work of solving it through – lambda-squared intact.

She hit the final line and hatched a pen mark beneath the number. Jack stared, confused.

“That can’t… no.”

He repeated the same. New pages torn loose. Formula copied over, processed, line by line by line—lambda squared—by line by line by line.

Jack settled on his answer. Same as Maddie’s.

Confusion made his face tense.

“So it’s not 70% of the way to the threshold… It’s 0.013% of the way to the threshold.”

He held the pen hard, his whole body holding firm and taut as the gears turned in his head. Jack’s eyes flickered across the formula, again and again and again. He looked to Maddie, like a dog issued a command he did not understand.

“But it worked,” he said, small. “But it worked.”

Jack stood, robotic almost, eyes lost in something far away. He disappeared into the lab almost as quickly as he had a few minutes before, but now he exited with a smoothness and a quietness so very uncharacteristic of him. It bothered Danny, somewhere deep in his gut.

Maddie followed, a possession matching Jack’s.

Danny’s fingers curled and uncurled. He’d succeeded. He’s successfully interrupted Vlad’s… whatever this was. But the disquiet infected him. He didn’t like it.

“So what does that mean?” Danny asked, perhaps to Vlad. “What’s wrong with the calculation?”

Vlad sipped on tea ice cold.

“Who knows?” Vlad lied.

…

The math didn’t work.

Maddie and Jack burned through paper, burned through pencils, burned through hours.

The math didn’t work.

Clothes stuck to skin. Sweat lingered fetid and stale in the cold basement air. Exhaustion beat like a slurry through their veins.

The math didn’t work.

The portal supervised all, placidly green, the light for their table, the light for their work when the lightbulb overhead burnt clean out and neither Jack nor Maddie could be pulled away to replace it. It stood, it watched, a testament of contradiction to everything they could not solve on paper, and yet everything they built directly into the fabric of reality.

And it should never have worked.

They threw every radical what-if they’d ever conceived over 20 years of ghost research.

The ecto-ether layer.

The latent activation stitches in space fabric.

The anti-ectomatter collision proposal.

The positive-feedback crystallization theory.

And still nothing worked.

All together, every crackpot theory in their favor taken for granted, racked them up to an activation energy 200x more potent than the calculation, and still just 2% of what would be needed to rip open, and hold open, a stable fissure between their reality and the ghost zone.

Maybe by pure luck, unfathomable luck, Fentonworks basement was directly situated atop a natural portal.

Maybe that would explain ripping it open. It did nothing to explain the stability. Natural portals were unstable by definition. There and gone in a few seconds. Not hours, days, weeks, months, a year, that the Fenton Portal had been open. Never so much as faltering.

It was late. 3am ticked away to 4am, and 4:30am. The discarded paper stacked higher than Jack and Maddie both. Calluses oozed from their hands at another attempt, and another, and another.

Maddie flipped through a folder’s worth of yellowed papers, aggressively thumbed over and over after two decades left untouched. And she settled on the one she’d passed over a few dozen times already, always seeking something else, something better.

This time she unsheathed it, and she placed it on the lab table.

“…If a mouse died. In the machine. If a mouse ran through the machine and accidentally bridged two live wires, and died of violent electrocution. 500 milliamps. Instantly melted into the circuitry.”

Maddie’s mouth was cotton-dry while she wrote. Ambient ecto-energy was low. Always very, very low.

Unless something very, very bad happened to something with the capacity to become a ghost.

The numbers wove. Maddie started the formula fresh, and it was pure muscle memory. A mouse. A big mouse, even. A 99th percentile beast of a mouse. And a wire that had been wired incorrectly. Something grounded that never actually grounded. An absolutely horrific amount of electricity.

0.37%, by pure numbers. If she included every permissive crackpot idea they had thrown on top, it topped out at 6% of the needed activation threshold.

Not a mouse.

“A cat,” Jack said, words gummy, tongue dry, face tired. “If we’ve got mice down here, maybe… a stray cat wandered in. Chased the mouse.”

Maddie nodded. It didn’t matter if it made sense.

She penned it in. A large cat. A devastating electrical short. Cats carried more ecto-potential than mice did. Ecto-potential did not necessarily go up with size. It went up with complexity. The things with the most ecto-potential were the things that most became ghosts.

1.45%, by pure numbers. 18% at absolute, absolute crackpot best.

“A dog,” Jack proposed with a shaky laugh. He swallowed. “A mouse… chased by a cat… chased by a dog… all electrocuted at once”

Maddie didn’t say the thing they both knew, which was that both of them would have noticed the evidence left behind by the electrically exploded pieces of a dog.

Maddie did it anyway. A mouse and a cat and a medium-sized dog, maybe just small enough to notice no evidence of, all together. All at once. All violently ripped apart, sacrificed to a machine still asleep in its wall.

Mice did not often make ghosts. Cats did not either. Dogs, occasionally. But infrequently. Very infrequently.

37%. At best.

“Jack.”

“Maddie, I know just—maybe something really smart—”

“—Jack—”

“—like an octopus—”

“Jack.”

“I hear, maybe, pigs are smart. If it was—”

Maddie was writing, already. Not for a pig. Not an octopus. Jack watched, and he knew what the numbers meant. The ecto-potential she penned gave her away. An ecto-potential that high.

65kg, an estimate

10,000 milliamps, a catastrophic accident, a death certificate.

A human’s amount of ecto-potential.

Maddie wrote.

And she wrote.

And she did not apply a single crackpot theory, not a single discredited proposal, not an ounce of exaggeration.

138%.

Threshold, and then some.

Comfortable, easily, then some.

For the first time, after all the hundreds of times she and Jack had penned this equation over the course of 2 decades, the number met her and Jack’s threshold.

A breakthrough.

A revelation.

A pure eureka moment.

Jack and Maddie were silent.

Alone in a humming basement. Alone with only the soft swirls of the portal for company, happy, stable, purring its contentment, singing to the cold air.

“It has to be something else,” Maddie said. And she said it weakly. And she said it childishly.

“You’re right. It can’t be this,” Jack echoed. “If someone died down here, we’d know. Dead bodies don’t walk away. We’d have seen it. O-or even if, if the body got stuck in the portal, we’d have heard of someone going missing.”

Maddie sat, quiet. A thought held her mind hostage.

“Unless they didn’t go missing,” Maddie said, and she said it barely audibly. “Unless the portal spit them right back out.”

“Then—that’s what I said—a dead body, on the floor, we’d have seen.”

“Not a dead body.”

“It had to be lethal, Mads—”

“I know Jack. But if they died, here, in the portal Jack, then their ghost did not get ripped away from the body and sent to the Ghost Zone. …They ripped the Ghost Zone here.” Palms slick with sweat smoothed over her notes. She pointed to one specific line and found her pen tip trembled no matter how badly she stabilized it. “The ecto-potential of a creature is how strong of a pull their ghost creates on the Ghost Zone. A strong enough pull means the ghost can reach the Ghost Zone and stabilize, like a fish reeling itself up, yeah? We agree on this Jack, yes?”

“Yes,” Jack answered.

“It’s what makes the math even work, Jack. Someone dying in the portal didn’t reel themselves to the boat. They reeled the boat in. Jack, they brought the Ghost Zone here…” Maddie wasn’t breathing right. She pulled sweat-soaked bangs away from her face. “Their ghost never left their body Jack. They died, Jack. And they walked back out.”

“…No. No,” Jack said. “No, they didn’t.”

“Then what?” Maddie asked.

Jack stared. He looked away. He didn’t like the expression on Maddie’s face.

“It—what about the ecto-ether theory?” Jack said, of the theory they’d tested and retested and tested all over, all night. He grabbed his pencil back up and pointed it aimlessly at Maddie’s piece of paper, pointed end out in self-defense. “If the ecto-ether is maybe… if it’s only 250-times stronger than we calculated. Then it could…”

Jack’s voice died. His pencil hung idle. Maddie’s paper remained unblemished.

“If it… was a pig,” Jack offered. “If it was a pig that died in the portal.”

“How, Jack? How would a pig get in? We lock all the doors at night, Jack. No one else can get in, Jack. It’s just us, Jack.”

Jack and Maddie were not there when the portal turned on.

Maddie’s statement carried two possibilities. Only two. Both felt like claws digging all the flesh right out of Jack’s heart.

“I want… I want to try the ecto-ether theory again,” Jack choked. “I think it’s the ecto-ether. I think it’ll work.”

Jack slid a piece of paper over, already covered in scribbles. In its single untouched corner, he started the equation for the several-thousandth time that night.

Above their head, birds were singing.

Sunrise hailed unseen from the windowless laboratory.

…

At 6am, Vlad answered his cell phone. The reception crackled, struggling through the layers of sheetrock above his head.

“Vlad?” Maddie’s voice crackled. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Not at all my dear.” Vlad leaned his weight against the wall, playing with the singsong melody in his voice. “But you sound exhausted. Is anything the matter?”

“Yes. Well… Yes. Jack and I have—all night—trying to fix the equation.”

“Naturally.”

“We found something that maybe works.”

“Oh?” Vlad asked. He straightened, pacing now, cracklingly attentive. “And what might that—”

“If someone died. Activating the portal. We have an on-switch inside the portal’s interior. The trigger we use to press it is external to the portal, of course. But if someone went inside the portal, and they pressed it directly, and if they died, and pulled the Ghost Zone here—”

Vlad’s red eyes reflected pools of iridescent green. He twirled his free hand in the fringes of his cape, tongue working over the fanged edges of his teeth. He stared, consumed, forward.

“—and just, you, I was thinking, you’re the only other expert I’d trust to… maybe weigh in.”

“What does Jack think?”

“He denies it. He’s still. He’s trying other theories.”

“Well who knows, surely? The answer may lie somewhere you haven’t looked.”

“…I’ve looked everywhere, Vlad. That's the thing. There is no more ‘somewhere else’. I’ve looked.”

“You sound like your mind is made up.”

“I just… if maybe you have some idea.”

“Am I meant to talk you out of this idea?”

“Vlad.”

“Do you think I have some secret information you don’t? Sorry to say, I’m just your skeptic.” Some noise came through muffled from the other side. Vlad flashed a smile. “But…as your skeptic I will offer you this—It all sounds a bit absurd, doesn’t it? To kill someone and have them come back intact and… for you to never notice? Who would they be? How would they be? Surely not human anymore, surely. How would you never notice?”

Vlad paced forward, booted feet clicking along his laboratory floor.

“It would be ridiculous,” he continued, with a building crescendo, “so unfathomably self-centered surely, to not notice something like that befall someone so close to you, who died at the hands of your own invention? …If I’m correctly inferring who, in your household, you suspect of having activated the portal?” Vlad’s tongue lingered along his teeth.

Maddie’s line held, quiet. And the seconds of static drew long.

“Ah, apologies. I’ve overstepped,” Vlad continued. “I meant this as a vote of confidence in you. You and Jack both. Two people as attentive, caring, compassionate as yourselves. You would notice. I promise.”

“You’re… Okay, thank you, Vlad. I appreciate it.”

“Is there anything else, my dear?”

“No. No. Thank you, Vlad. I’ll think about this.”

Maddie’s line clicked dead. A chuckle built to Vlad’s lips and he let his head tip back with mirth. It lasted only a moment. He stowed his phone. And as if the interruption had never happened, Vlad reaffixed his attention on his own portal swirling in front of him. It bathed him, swimming green, purring contentment.

And Vlad vanished into his portal.

(Chapter 2)

[gremlingottoosilly]

Reader who accidentally gives her virginity to Slasher!König? The lights were off, and she was planning on spending a romantic getaway with her boyfriend to finally seal the deal. She mistakes him for her boyfriend, assuming the mask was for some weird role play he wanted to do. Didn’t even question why her boyfriend’s body feels extremely different. It’s not until she turns on the light and curiously lifts up his hood after the deed was done that she found out that she just fucked a random guy, while her boyfriend was actually bleeding out in the next room over.

You boyfriend paid for the cabin. Said the owner -- a creepy fuck - dropped the price twice immediately upon hearing that it was for a couple's getaway. Said he is too fucking tired of groups of drunk partygoers - too much clean up after they're done with. Said it's nice to have fewer gusts sometimes. Tuck the payment immediately, though - said he doesn't make deposits, and too many people disappear after only giving him a third of what they own. Creepy fuck, like your boyfriend said - but you didn't care. It's the first nice thing he did in a long time - he won you over, pushed you in direction of finally agreeing for him to take your virginity - even though you were kinda scared at first. Your first time should be special, and your boyfriend lately wasn't...exactly a special feeling inducer. It's no matter though - you will have your romantic getaway in cozy cabin in the woods. The place looks like a mansion - you're shocked, really, even after a few hours spent settling in, sipping on a beer and nervously giggling each time your boyfriend made a sleazy remark about popping your cherry. He makes a joke about filming the process for history sake. About the owner of the cabin probably preparing to jerk off somewhere in the dark corner - you didn't like the jokes. Asked to turn off the light as you get under the covers, preparing to finally become a part of the sex club. Your boyfriend exited the room, searching for more booze, probably - came a while after, when you already started to feel weird about the whole thing. There is a bottle of sweet liquor - not beer, surprisingly - tilted to your mouth. You drink it, enjoying the sweet, alcoholic coffee poured into your mouth. They are gentle, but firm hands going over your body, grasping every bit of skin they can find. It's probably booze and your nerves, but the hands feel slightly different from your boyfriend's - bigger, rougher. You're probably just nervous, imagining weird things. He kiss you everywhere - you could feel a light stubble. It's funny, you didn't even notice your boyfriend didn't shave - probably your nerves, again, making you feel a bit dizzy from the kisses. You had a few fantasies about how the whole losing virginity thing would turn out - you never thought it would be like this. Soft and terrifying at the same time. Tongue licking you everywhere, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut and find his head, hoping he would stop the gentle assault on your nerves. You find his hair - suddenly, it feel shorter than a greasy man bun your boyfriend has - and tug on it. Feel the pressure. He moans. Rough voice, low voice. A bit of a boyish tone. "So good for me, Schatzen. Knew your boyfriend wouldn't put much of a fight, but you're a natural for me, ja?" This is not your boyfriend.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU

Link to Part Two

Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.

So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.

Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"

Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.

To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.

"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."

Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.

"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."

"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"

And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"

It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"

"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"

"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."

"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."

"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"

Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.

It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"

"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."

But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.

There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"

"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"

And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.

"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.

Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"

Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"

Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.

And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.

Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"

"Shhhhhhhh!"

Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-

"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"

Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.

The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."

"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."

"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"

Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Word count: 4.9k+

Warnings: fluff & Angst! English isn’t my first language<3

A/n: hello beauties!! Here’s the 2nd chap of our summer romance!!! A bit of a build up and messy Aemy because why not? The next chapters will be longer but this one no and I’m so sorry I was dealing with a writer’s block this week but I managed to get this one out!!! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated<3

Taglist: if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please fill this form with your username!!

Updates: every Saturday!!

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Chapter 2: under the Weirwood tree

“Aemond!” 

Aegon bangs on the library door like a fucking toddler, making Aemond sigh and groan as he continues to slam his fist on the wooden door.

“What?” He says with a jab in his tone, his fingers toying with the edge of the page he was reading a few seconds ago, “Open the fucking door already, or you’ll break it down, idiot.”

“That’s not a nice way to talk to your older brother,” Aegon kisses his teeth as he pushes the door open, an unbelievably large smile on his face. He strides towards Aemond’s desk with a mug of black coffee in his hand, walking with a skip in his steps, “especially now that you will spend your summer with us! How lovely—“

“Shut up already and give me my coffee,” Aemond grumbles, reaching for the mug but Aegon pulls it back, keeping it out of his reach.

“Tsk, tsk, absolutely not!” Aegon says, faking a frown as he looks at his younger brother, “You’re being so rude for someone who wears glasses with one prosthetic eye—“

“For fuck sake,” Aemond groans, grabbing the glasses before he takes them off, pinching the bridge of his nose, “why must you always be so insufferable?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Aegon shrugs, plopping down on the seat in front of Aemond’s desk, “it’s my responsibility to make sure you are entertained and not bored to death with these—“ he scrunches his face as he fiddles with his younger brother’s book, “what the fuck is this? Are you reading a history book in High Valyrian? You’re insane.”

“When was the last time you read a book?” Aemond looks at his older brother with a smug expression, “At least between the two of us someone is using his brain.”

“No wonder Alys left you—“

They both freeze, not a single sound can be heard in the room as Aegon very very slowly looks at Aemond, gulping when he sees his younger brother’s good eye glaring daggers at him.

“Shit—I’m, fucking shit, I’m so so sorry—“ he tries to get up and hug Aemond but all he receives is being pushed back on his seat with a defeated sigh from the younger Targaryen.

“Don’t talk for a moment, I want to enjoy my coffee in silence,” Aemond shakes his head before he brings the hot mug to his lips, taking a gentle sip from it, “did you make this?” He asks, his good eye wide and surprised as he looks at Aegon.

“No, why?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispers as he takes a huge gulp from the coffee, humming as the hot steaming liquid hits his tongue, “you could never make a cup of coffee like this.”

“You have Hel’s bestie to thank for that,” Aegon shrugs, “besides, I hate coffee, can never understand how you drink this stuff.”

“Of course, only horrible cocktails can keep you on your toes,” Aemond scoffs, finishing his coffee with a hum of pleasure, fighting back a smile when he hears you have made his coffee, “how did she know how I like my coffee?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Aegon leans back, his eyes never leaving Aemond, “how are you feeling?”

“Hmm?” Aemond asks, confused and surprised by his brother’s question.

Their relationship is… quite complicated. They love each other, but at the same time, they want to strangle and knock the breath out of the other’s lungs. They wish to be able to have civil conversations, but in Aemond’s head, Aegon always says something that makes him see red.

“We haven’t talked much ever since… you know,” Aegon sighs, running a hand through his tangled hair, “I understand though, not that I understand it as if I have experienced it or ever for that, I’ll probably never do because I mean who would want to leave someone like me—“

“I get it,” Aemond raises his hand to stop his brother, “you try to be sympathetic, I appreciate that, but you suck at it,” he says, standing up to put the book back in its place, waking Vhagar up with a few head scratches before he makes his way toward the door, Aegon following behind.

“Yeah, not my thing,” Aegon shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts, walking side by side with his brother, entering the buzzing kitchen together, “well, good morning ladies and you kid!” Daeron fakes a cry when Aegon pats his back roughly, making him choke on his tea.

“Leave him alone,” Hel announces, walking towards the kitchen island with two big plates filled with waffles and ice cream, “he’s had a rough night.”

“Why?” Aemond asks before spotting you behind Helaena, walking with a plate of fresh fruits, “hi.”

“Good morning, Lil nerd! How did you sleep last night?” You ask him, giving him a quick hug, sitting on your chair next to him, “Hopefully not stuck in the library like the past week?”

“No,” chuckles, taking his seat, “I actually went to bed, I had to put away a few things Alys sent back from the house.”

“Oh, did she contact you?” You ask hesitantly, plopping a small grape into your mouth as Helaena cuts the waffles for everyone, “you don’t have to answer, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” he shakes his head, reaching to take an apple from your plate, “she didn’t contact me, well, she kind of did but it was just a note in the boxes she sent.”

“She’s such a bitch.”

“Helaena!” You laugh out loud, throwing your head back when Aegon says her name in shock — one thing Hel’s family doesn’t know about her is how fiercely protective she is of her loved ones, even if it’s mostly in secret.

“Sister—“

“Sorry, sorry!” She sits down with a soft laugh, “she gets on my nerves, you know? I can’t control it.”

“We know, babe,” you pass her the fruit plate, bringing a bite of waffle to your mouth after you say, “Don’t think about it anymore, we’re trying to get your brother to move on!”

“Yeah!” Aegon tries to join the conversation but soon gets distracted, “damn girl, how can you eat a whole ass plate of berries and grapes this early in the morning?”

“It’s near noon, dumbass,” Daeron scoffs, leaving the kitchen with a hot cup of tea.

“She loves to have fruit for breakfast, especially sweet oranges and tangerines!” Helaena exclaims.

“Not sure when it started but it’s now a part of my morning routine,” you shrug, handing Aemond a few strawberries to put on his waffles, “and what about you? How do you manage to have Gin Tonic with your breakfast?”

“I haven’t had any since I arrived here!” He whines, pouting as he stands up and steals a few grapes from your hand, “fuck off you know my cocktails are the best.”

“I’m not boosting your ego until you give me a good Sex on the beach.”

“Atta girl!” He high-fives you before making his way towards the refrigerator to grab a snack for himself even though he’s had breakfast with you.

“Morning, darlings,” Alicent walks in, her auburn curls moving with each step as she stands between you and Aemond, reaching to pull Aemond in for a half hug with a kiss on the crown of his head.

“Morning, Mum,” he replies, rubbing her forearm with one hand, giving her a rare smile he only gives her and Helaena occasionally.

“How are you? Are you feeling better?” She asks her son, putting her hand lovingly on your shoulder, “I hope you’re settling in nicely.”

“I am, I have you and others to thank for that,” Aemond answers, glancing at you, giving a quick smile before he looks back at his mother, “Well, no thanks to Aegon who’s been up my ass since I came here—“

“I was nothing but nice to you, little shit—“

“Stop—“ Alicent tries to end their banter, but to no one’s surprise, she is not successful.

“Should I thank you for that?” Aemond cranes his neck to look at his older brother whose jaw is on the floor, the sandwich is frozen mid-air close to his lips, “because that’s the least you have done.”

“As if I didn’t help you carry that huge fucking vanity mirror upstairs—“

“You just held one corner of it, you child—“ 

“Stop, just fucking stop!” Alicent yells, making everyone gasp when she swears, “What now?”

“You swore,” Helaena says, grinning at her mother.

“It’s not my first time, I’m not a kid—“

“But you always tell us to mind our language,” Aegon matches Helaena’s grin, walking to stand beside you, “unless…”

“Leave her alone, please,” Aemond stands up and kisses Alicent’s forehead, “she’s been hanging with Criston for far too long, I’m afraid.”

“Hush you!” Alicent slaps his arm playfully, “How have you been, truly? Is there anything me or all of us can do for you?”

“I’m okay, Mum,” he tries to budge, to not let anyone see through the facade he’s been holding up since Alys sent his things to him, or what in particular has been sent, “don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry, darling? You haven’t talked to anyone about it! You are ignoring your grandfather’s calls—“

“I could care fucking less about what he has to say!” His voice booms through the room, shocking everyone to their core.

You had realized how short his temper had become ever since the incident, but to raise his voice at his mother was not something you would see coming. Maybe he is hurting more than anyone — even himself who says it’s okay, it’s alright, I’m fine — ever imagined. 

“I apologize,” and with that he leaves the kitchen, stealing Helaena’s cup of tea on his way as he enters the TV room, finding Daeron wandering through the channels, stopping only when a headline catches his attention.

Aemond Targaryen’s ex-fiance spotted with a new lover!

Hello and good morning to our lovely audience! I’m Simon Strong and we are here with the newest celebrity gossip of Westeros! It wasn’t long ago when we heard the news of our very infamous couple’s break up, and now, only a month gone, Alys Rivers, Aemond Targaryen’s ex-fiance was spotted being too friendly with a colleague of hers! 

But that is not the only news we have for you!

A few days ago Miss Rivers had done an interview with our reporter, she said and I quote; “Being with a man who can’t stand up against others who hurt you is a bad choice. I waited and watched him treat me as if I meant nothing to him, and it is something Targaryens are most famous for — their money and huge egos!”

The sound of a loud crash makes Daeron jump, and he sees the hot tea run down Aemond’s wounded hand — he breaks the cup in his fist and drops the remaining on the floor.

“Aemond, shit—“ Daeron jumps over the back of the couch, grabbing Aemond’s hand as he examines his bloodied palm. The cuts aren’t deep but many little open and bleeding wounds cover his skin.

Aemond’s head is foggy, he can’t think or function at that. Alys moving on was something he was ready to deal with, he knew she must have been cheating on him during their relationship, but to say such hurtful words to the press made him question everything.

What was the point of their relationship if all Alys wanted to do was ruin him and his reputation? Surely after being dismissed by his father at the council alongside Aegon, his reputation became nonexistent.

Alys was everything to Aemond, she was his light, the only glimmer of hope in his darkest moments. She was the only person who would curse this world with him and keep him safe in their bubble of joy.

Apparently, it was only Aemond who felt that unconditional love.

With a heavy heart, he pulls his hand out of Daeron’s grasp, and with heavy steps, he walks upstairs to his room, ignoring the calls of his name as he did on his wedding day.

No words have been spoken between Alys and him for the past month, absolutely none, except for the note she sent with that cursed box. To see her being so happy and doing interviews about their relationship makes him see red, but somewhere beneath this blinding rage, Alys’ words poke at his open wounds, having him bleeding from the gaping holes worse than before.

He pushes his bedroom door open, standing in the doorway for a second to gather his thoughts; the thoughts he has been burying deep down so he wouldn’t have to deal with them for a long time.

He sits on the edge of his bed, his fingers shaking with an unknowing fear. He knows everyone must have seen the news, his father, his grandfather, his sister, and her children. 

The humiliation is inevitable now, thanks to his ex, even though he tried his best not to get caught in the whirlwind of the questions the media threw at him. Nothing can be changed now, not his public image, not his personal life, and certainly not how his family perceives him.

He runs his hand over his face, exhaling shakily as he repeats the words he heard on the news; being with a man who can’t stand up against those who hurt you is a bad choice. And all his life, through the years he stayed by her side, she did not need to ask him to stand up for her because he was already beating the guys to the pulp, getting into fights for her, but when it came to him she never reciprocated.

He remembers how he caught her texting one of his father’s employers on his twenty-first birthday, and he was so naive and stupid to let go of it when she said she just wanted to apply for a job to get closer to him, to Aemond, and he so easily believed her honey-coated words.

The sound of his phone ringing brings him out of his thoughts, making him sigh in exhaustion as he reaches into his pocket to pull it out, his grip tightening when he sees his grandfather’s name on the screen. He has probably seen the news and is ready to blame Aemond for the mess like he always does.

“Morning—“

“How could you not see this coming?” Otto’s voice is loud enough for him to distance the phone from his ear, closing his eye as he listens to his grandfather’s yells, “We worked so hard to keep your relationship out of the public eye, but now thanks to your idiocy the world knows about how you treated her!”

“No one knows anything about our relationship,” he replies, his tone cool and collected but he knows deep down he is one single moment away from breaking, “her words are nothing but lies—“

“Lies or not, you threw your reputation away because of a woman who was nothing before meeting you! Now it’s not just you who will pay the price, it’s your family, it’s our company!” Otto says, his words cutting Aemond like a knife being twisted in his ribcage, and what hurts the most about it is that Otto is not wrong.

Aemond introduced Alys to their company, and to his friends, got her a job, and made her famous, hell he even paid for the last year of her law school! He was an idiot for believing she was there for him, but what else could he do? 

He was in love.

“I could care less about Viserys’ appearance and company! She left me, I can’t control what she says, I can’t control what she fucking does!” Aemond yells back, his patience finally being ripped away, “My reputation was shattered the moment you let Viserys’ daughter get her hands on our lives. She set the cameras up when Alys left the church because no one knew when the wedding would take place and you turned a fucking blind eye to it!”

“You need to sort out the mess you created by letting that witch take advantage of your generosity,” Otto groans in annoyance, “not generosity, no, your idiocy, your childishness and immaturity. You were a fucking child when you started seeing her! The scandal we had to cover — when the twenty years old younger son of Viserys Targaryen kissed a twenty-eight years old woman in King’s Landing — spread like fucking fire in Westeros and all our stocks’ worth dropped—“

“My fiance left me!” Aemond’s voice finally breaks when he looks up and sees you entering his room with a worried expression, his eye glistening with tears, “She left me on our wedding day! How cruel can you be? I spent days away from the streets to protect your precious status and reputation, I isolated myself for weeks because I didn’t have the strength to stand up and walk outside! Did you even think about how I felt? Did you, Otto, or all you could care about was Rhaenyra’s next move? How will the world see us now?”

You sit next to him on the bed in silence, and for once, he hate your presence, he hates the way you look at him with worried eyes and open ears, ready to take his pain away, trying to be his friend.

“I do not have time to deal with your childish tantrums, either you will accept that you are ruining this family and help me clear up your mess, or we will have a fucking problem—“

“Listen, Otto, I won’t do anything about this. You’re a fucking asshole for kissing Viserys’ ass for so long that you have forgotten how horribly he is treating us. All you care about is to make him look better, so no, I won’t take responsibility for something I haven’t done!” He hangs up, throwing the phone on the bed before he groans in disbelief, hiding his face in his hands, “what do you want?”

You look at him, confusion is evident on your face as he asks you the question in a very serious tone. He knows he shouldn’t be treating you, out of everyone like this, but at this moment he can’t help but let his anger consume him.

“I thought I should check up on you,” you respond quietly, looking at him with a sympathetic smile, “I saw the news.”

“Who hasn’t,” he scoffs, shaking his in annoyance, looking down at his bruised and bloody hand before he meets your gaze, “that’s very sweet of you.”

“Maybe I can be of help somehow if you tell me what you need—“

“I don’t need help,” he glares at you before huffing out his breath, his nails digging into his wounds as he fists his hand.

“Let me see your hand,” you try to reach out and grab his wrist gently but he pulls back harshly, startling you with his attitude, “Aemond, please—“

“What do you gain from this?” He asks suddenly, “What do you achieve by being nice to me? I don’t get it, you have everything you need; money, friends, a good job, I can’t give you anything.”

“You are my friend, I want to help you because you’re going through something so so hurtful and I don’t wish to see you so upset—“

“Pity,” he chuckles sarcastically, standing up to pace his room, “so you pity me! How very generous of you to come here with an excuse to check up on me while all you feel for me is fucking pity!”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head desperately, standing up to reach and take his hand in yours but he puts a good distance between the two of you, his glare never faltering, “I understand your pain and despair! I’ve been through the same situation. I know how much you must be doubting yourself, how you think all of this is your fault—“

“You have no idea what I’m feeling. You, the self-centered childhood friend of my sister who has seen so little of how I’ve been treated, think you know me,” Aemond raises his voice, his tone cuts deep into your bones and he sees it, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and how you shake your head in disbelief.

“I’ve been there with you all of your life, Little nerd. I watched you grow up, and I don’t pity you because I understand you, and because you’re my friend,” you sniff, wiping the single tear that falls on your cheek, “you should be upset about everything, hell you should be so fucking mad, but to say I pity you? I could never even think about upsetting you, let alone showing some fake sympathy to gain what? I want you to be happy—“

Aemond looks at you for a long minute, his hands balled into fists on his side as he tries to keep his breathing under control, his mind reeling with regret and anger; at himself, at Otto, at everyone but you. And yet, he treated you worse than others.

He leaves you alone in his room, marching downstairs to the library without glancing at anyone, especially Alicent who calls his name pleadingly. Aemond locks himself in there with Vhagar who jogged alongside him to the room, huffing and barking happily while he sits on the couch near the window, letting his tears stream down his cheek.

He doesn’t go out of the room for lunch and isolates himself from the outer world, letting himself get distracted by his books and Vhagar who happily cuddles him with her huge body while he reads.

After a few hours near the sunset, he hears a soft voice telling him that everyone’s going outside to the backyard near the Weirwood tree, spending the nice afternoon outdoors.

He doesn't respond, just grunts, and goes back to reading, even though he knows he should stand up and follow you there, beg for forgiveness, and apologize to you, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Not when he feels so ashamed of how horrible he has treated you.

After much thinking, he decides to get up and take a walk with Vhagar towards where you said you’d be. He grabs Vhagar’s favorite ball and claps for her to follow him. The pair walks outside the house, the fresh evening wind blows over their heads, and Aemond feels he can finally breathe.

Vhagar happily wiggles her tail as he spots the group sitting on the grass with Aegon telling a shitty hilarious story while drinking beer together, sharing a laughter or two. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre, Aegon & Helaena’s Golden Retrievers, are playing together, running and jumping on each other under the sunlight.

He spots you lying on the grass, resting your back on Helaena’s chest while the two of you listen to Aegon and Daeron’s bantering, giggling, and sharing a can of beer — you look so happy, and that makes Aemond stop dead in his tracks, having him second guessing whether he should be approaching you and others after how he talked to you.

“Oi, why are you so late?” Aegon asks, bending down to grab and throw a can of beer at him, “You almost missed the sunset.”

“I didn’t know if I wanted to come and tolerate your stupid jokes,” Aemond catches the beer, throwing Vhagar’s ball for her to catch before his good eye finds yours, but he looks away immediately, too ashamed and disgusted by his earlier behavior to even look at you.

“Ignore him,” Helaena says to her older brother then looks at Aemond, patting the place next to her for him to sit, “Come on, join us.”

“Fine,” he whispers, catching you giving him a small encouraging smile. Vhagar runs back with her ball caught between her teeth, dropping it before she makes herself comfortable on top of you, resting her head on your stomach.

“Hello, my old lady,” you coo at her, scratching behind her ears and back, chuckling at how happily she starts waggling her tail, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“So!” Aegon claps his hand to gain everyone’s attention, “I was talking before our gracious pirate interrupted me—“

“I haven’t used my eyepatch since I moved out,” Aemond grunts, thanking you quietly when handed him your beer so he doesn’t need to open his.

“Whatever, it still doesn’t change the fact that you look like a fucking pirate even with your prosthetic eye!”

“Leave him alone!” Daeron whines, “Please just continue whatever you were telling us.”

“Alright, so…”

Aemond doesn’t listen to what Aegon has to say, his eye trails from Vhagar’s sleepy face to yours, smiling and laughing at Aegon’s story. He can’t bring himself to think about how bad his words must have hurt, especially since he made you cry.

You turn around, meeting his gaze, reaching to grab the beer from his hand, giving him a reassuring smile in return, mouthing a silent ‘later’ so he knows you two will talk and you won’t be left in the dark. 

“Shut up now, wanna watch the sunset without your annoying voice,” Daeron pulls his brother down to sit next to him, their backs resting against the Weirwood tree as everyone looks at the orange and pink hue of the sky, the sun slowly hiding behind the mountains.

“Get up kids, dinner’s on me!” Aegon smacks the back of Daeron’s head playfully, making the youngest Targaryen whine in pain before he also gets up and follows his brother inside the house.

“Order something in case he burns the house down,” you and Helaena get up as well, laughing at what Daeron said. 

“You know what,” you say quietly, unlacing your fingers with Hel, making her turn around and look at you, “I think I’m gonna stay a little more.”

Aemond looks at his sister, nodding at her as she leaves the two of you alone. He watches you turn around and step towards him, sitting on the grass next to him just like you did on his wedding day.

“Hey you,”

“Hey,” he laughs softly, resting his head on the tree as he looks at you, matching your smile, “I’m sorry…”

“I know you are,” you take a deep breath, looking up at the sky, “you are under lots of pressure now, Little nerd, I understand that.”

“Do you forgive me?” He asks, his voice so fragile and little as if he were a child, “because I’d hate to ruin your summer just because of my temper. I’m sorry, I’ll get on my knees and beg you too.”

“You are forgiven,” you laugh softly, “but I meant it when I said that I understand. I wholeheartedly understand how you feel, Aemond, it wasn’t out of pity.”

“I know, shit, I know but I was so pissed at Otto I couldn’t get my emotions under control,” he sighs, “not that any of these are good excuses, and I’m really sorry.”

“Do you remember that time when I wouldn’t come over here at family gatherings? Hel must have told you all about my breakup.”

“Yeah, I remember…” he says, nodding as you continue. 

“It was a rough four months of trying to get my shit together after Jason fucking Lannister stood me up,” you smile bitterly at the memory.

“He did what?” The shock on Aemond’s face only makes you laugh harder, “why didn’t we know about this?”

“Because I told Hel not to say anything,” you shrug, “yeah, you’re not the only one who had the pleasure of being stood up by a jerk. Anyway, we were together for a year, and everything was…hmm not too good but not too bad either. I liked him, maybe loved him even I don’t know I think I saw a future with him and I wanted my parents to meet him. I called him one day, took him out, paid for everything so I could tell him about the dinner my parents were planning.”

“All of this just for him to be a douchebag?” He teases you.

“Oh yeah,” you both laugh, “at first he was so open and lovely about this idea, but then… well the date came my parents and I were all looking around the restaurant all dumb and upset… I was the dumb one because I trusted a Lannister of all people but I liked him so much, and when I received a text from him after two hours of waiting for him, I broke down.”

“What was in the text?” Aemond asks, reaching for your hand, “You don’t have to tell—“

“He said he used me, that was it. Just sex and pleasure for over a year…that was all I meant to him,” you tear up a little, squeezing his hand as the two of you look at each other, “I may not understand your feelings completely because your situation is different, but I get it, I know how you feel to some extent.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that…you deserve someone better than Jason Lannister.”

“You too! You deserve someone much much better than Alys Rivers,” you run your thumb over his knuckles, “when you asked me what I would gain from this friendship… happiness, Aemond. You might not be my best friend but, you’ll always have a friend in me, and I like that we have shared interests, and your little jokes and banters with Aegon make me laugh. I like that, and I’m so sorry if you felt I was pitying you.”

“Don’t be sorry, I should be the one apologizing,” he smiles when you rest your head on his shoulder, juts how he did on his wedding day with you, “I like that too.”

[grlpartdoll]

part 2 :]

Can you imagine, after years of providing for the army — sort of old and a little bit grey — John Price, deciding to establish his own traveling agency.

He knows a lot of special spots, and knows too much about the history of the world. So he figures, after his honorable discharge from the military, that.. well, why not make money out of it?

His company grows quickly, eventually Soap and Gaz also decide that they've had enough, so they join, and the company grows again — under their careful direction.

They have an office building ten stories high now, and Ghost is the last to join after a lot of convincing (and an injury to his knee, but no one mentions that. At all.)

Price is their CEO, Gaz the marketing director, Soap the head of the client services and management teams, and Ghost becomes a Price's right hand.

Price knows he's not getting any younger, so he's steadily training Ghost to take his place, and getting Soap and Gaz used to the idea, too.

He'd asked Kyle, first, if he would like the position, to which he kindly denied and said he liked this — his own team, being able to do something that was pretty and purposeful for once.

Soap hadnt even let Price ask. He'd pointed to Ghost, during one of the meetings, and simply said ; "That' the big guy's job. Keep me outta' f'it."

So to Simon it went.

Since the transition is rough, and much more than Ghost — Simon — can handle all at once, Price makes him hire an assistant.

Comes in ; You!

Simon expects an old, cranky lady with office experience.

Instead he gets you, sunshiny, young — kind and with experience, sure, but so fucking clumsy.

You're still bright-eyed at your age, still have that sparkle in the depth of your twin stars. Ghost envies it, almost. If he didn't know what he did about the world, Simon would be glad to be like you. But unfortunately for him, he knew just how being innocent could harm someone.

Which is why he's out to break your little heart and your innocence.

Doesn't greet you back in the morning when you're all sing-songy, bidding the team that works in front of Simon's closed office a "goooood mornin'! I got donuts!"

Doesn't even look up from his pile of paperwork as you put down the tea on his desk — exactly how he likes it.

Just grunts as you go over what he needs to do on that specific day, the meetings he has, and the people he needs to call back.

But you don't let that deter you. You sit at your little desk just opposite of his, little kitten heels tip-tapping the whole way there. Maybe your hips sway a little. It's not like he was looking long enough to know, or anything.

Anyway — he's a horrible boss. Snappy. Angry. Grunt-y, and silent. He makes it known that he's disappointed in you when you make mistakes — but he always makes sure to go above and beyond what a normal boss should be. Always making sure you know that you're 'makin a mess on his carpet.' with your outside heels (you don't have the money to get inside and outside ones. So you wear yours inside and outside.) or that 'this chart is all wrong. Redo it before going home.' (you have a date tonight. It's 7pm, and you're supposed to stop working at five. Your date is at 7:30.)

It's no surprise that eventually, you start to be quieter around him — more avoidant, and certainly more skittish.

But it gets especially worse on that one day.

It was raining — you'd had the worst morning ever. Your shoes were all wet, including your socks. You'd dropped your coffee on your way in (sorry, receptionist) and you'd forgotten the report sheets you needed at home — a hour bus ride away.

Simon's knee aches worse on the pouring days, and he's more snappy, so you're usually careful around him.

But today, you've had enough, so you don't even bother greeting him, don't bother a smile. You don't even add any little joyful notes to his schedule while you rattle it off to him.

When lunchtime ticks by, you realize you forgot your lunch, so you have to order in, and you know it'll take longer, so you do extra work in the meantime, while you wait. Simon doesn't get up either.

When thirty minutes tick by and you still haven't gotten up, and your delivery person still hasn't reached the building, he looks up over the rim of his glasses, grunting.

"What're you doing."

"Pardon?" You ask, frowning.

"You usually are eating by now. Are you late in your work?"

"No—"

"Because, I've noticed you put in a notice for extra hours. 11 hours this week. And yet." He ticks his tongue at the pile of paperwork on your desk. At the mess you call your order. "Look' atcha. Right mess. And I still don't have last month's expenses chart I was supposed to get on Monday."

You lower your head. You were admittedly a bit in over your head — but that was because he refused to give your work to anyone else like Price had done it. John had always made sure the technical team handled most of what you were handed off now, and he'd also always made sure it was separated equally, so that not only one person had to shoulder all of the work.

But Simon — mister Riley, had it out for your head, and refused for his paperwork to be done by anyone but him and his assistant.

"I'm sorry, but —"

He grunts again. Removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's not normal. If you're not capable of keeping up with this company, with the workload, then I suggest—"

You blink. This — this was the wave that broke the damn dam. "Oh, fuck off!"

Tears immediately began pouring from you then, fat heavy tears that you didn't even know had been waiting to be freed, rage swarming your senses as you picked up your bag from the floor beside you. You don't even feel your hands.

You stand from your chair, still with wet shoes that squeak uncomfortably under the sudden pressure and leave, slamming the door to his office behind you.

[gr1mstar]

I'm a huge Dark romance book girlie

So can you write LDS boys finding out what she was reading like they had no idea reader has a fascination with dark romance books with psychotic ml or villains

I'M BETTER `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

note. i'm also a huge fan of darl romance books so i had fun writing this. thank you for your request love. also, i'm sorry for the wait, i hope you like it.

contains. love and deepspace boys x reader, fluff, sfw.

ZAYNE

you both had this hobby of reading, so it wasn't strange when zayne found you on the sofa in the living room of your apartment, reading a new book.

the only difference between you was that zayne read books related to medicine and history, while you liked to read romance books. zayne knew that you weren't into history or medicine, so he didn't bother to explain in detail what he read, but he was more satisfied listening to you complain that the two protagonists are stupid that they don't see that they love each other others.

at least zayne liked listening to your stories until they disappeared. suddenly, you started not telling him anything.

so curiously, when you put the book down to go drink a glass of water from the kitchen, he took the book you were reading at the moment, wanting to see what makes you stop sharing the plot of the story.

after some time, making your way back to the living room and seeing zayne with the book in his hand, his face red and a shocked expression on his face, you started to laugh subtly.

"what is it? what's with that expression?"

speechless, zayne puts the book down, moving closer to you.

"to understand that this is how you want me to be too?" he said, placing his hands on either side of your waist.

"what?"

"to talk to you like this… to tie you to the bed with something and make you stop walking the next day? to be crazy about you? what do you say?"

XAVIER

seeing you blushing in front of the book you were reading, xavier couldn't help but ask you what you were reading.

"ah, just a romance book." was your answer, returning to reading, the blush on your cheeks not disappearing.

not satisfied with the answer, xavier sighs and sits back with his head in your lap. thinking that he had nothing to lose, in a second the book you were reading now was in xavier's hands, his eyes on the lines you had just read.

"what is this?" he asked, flipping through a few pages and then looking at the cover. a smile appeared on his face. "do you like this stuff?" he continued, handing you the book back.

you didn't answer now the blush in your cheeks being much more obvious than before, your gaze moving down, avoiding his.

"i understand that you like antagonists more than heroes, right? someone obsessed with you?" xavier said, approaching you with big steps, now being a few millimeters away from you. bending down, his face was directly in front of yours, and with the help of a hand he forced you to look at him, grabbing your chin and turning your head.

"you're lucky, princess. i can be mean sometimes, but you have to take responsibility for it."

RAFAYEL

rafayel never understood what you like so much about books. it is a fictional story, with a fictional person. why waste your time reading about them when you have him, alive and very sexy, in front of you.

this, out of curiosity, he tried to read one day, when he had no painting to complete.

getting into bed, with a cup of coffee 'for energy', he started reading the last book you recommended, not expecting what would happen next.

the hours passed quickly, and in the middle of the book Rafayel lay down, looking at the time in wonder. the whole day had passed, and all he had done was read.

"i lived to see this too." he heard, immediately seeing that it was you at the door. "are you reading?" you asked, laying down on the bed next to him.

"let's say. i was curious why you like it so much." Rafael answered, leaving the book on the bedside table and taking you in his arms.

"and did you like it?"

he didn't say anything, taking his face into the crack between your shoulder and neck, inhaling the aroma of your body. he didn't want to admit that he liked the book, being too ashamed to tell you that now he understood why you liked it.

"so you like it." you said, laughing lightly.

"no. I'm better."

© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s. reid

(chapter one, the only exception)

‘I've always lived like this ,keeping a comfortable distance and up until now I had sworn to myself, that I'm content with loneliness, because none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception. You are the only exception’

summary; you never thought you’d find yourself falling in love again, especially not this easily, especially not with the boy from the library.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationship history, reader is closed off, avoidant!reader, lowkey a friends w benefits situation but its so much more, reader is lowkey so real; fluff!!

taglist; @gghostwriter @iknwreid (it literally wont let me tag anyone else!! Im sorry!!)

1.8k words.

SERIES MASTERLIST

White bed sheets were tousled, there was faint music that could be heard from your radio in the living room, even with the door closed, the air was warm around you, lights turned off, yet the fairy lights twirled around your bed frame left a warm glow across the room that increased the delicacy of the moment.

You admired the boy laying beside you, on his back, eyes up to the ceiling as soft breaths left his parted lips. The warmth of the fairy lights making his skin glow, every small detail further defined, his eyes with a slight gleam, you were unsure if that was from the lights or the intimate moment shared.

“I can feel you staring.” He said, his voice was careful, quiet as if not to ruin the fragile peace in the air. Your eyes didn’t leave his face, despite his words, they remained memorising the details of his side profile, the curve of his nose and jaw, the plush of his lips, the fullness of his eyelashes; every detail committed to a special corner of your mind.

Then his head turned at your lack of response, his eyes meeting yours, then there was a small smile on his face, lips curved upwards, his eyes mirroring your own as he admired you in the gentle lighting. “What is it?” He asked, his voice still so quiet.

Your lips curved upwards as his had a few minutes ago as his eyes stopped their dancing over your features to meet your eyes. “Im just glad, y’know.” You admitted, the same gentleness in your voice. As if this moment would end if you spoke too loudly, to fast, too much.

He shuffled slightly to reposition so he was laying on his side, body turned towards your own. He propped himself up on his elbow, “Me too.” He said, you didn’t have to say what it was you were glad about, he knew. He always knew.

Then his smile widened before he spoke again, “Im glad I didn’t give up when you rejected me the first two times.” He mumbled gently. A breathy laugh left your lips at the memory.

When you met Spencer at the library a whole six months ago, the last thing you had expected was to end up falling for him. Sure, you were attracted to him but you had been attracted to people before. Sure, the way he had rambled about the book you were borrowing had you smiling and listening intently. Sure, when he had asked you if you wanted to get coffee, you had considered it for a moment.

Then you politely declined. You watched his face twitch in disappointment and embarrassment before you had explained it was nothing against him, you just weren’t interested in dating at the moment. You thought that was the end of it when he nodded and said he understood then left with a small smile, and quick sheepish wave.

Then you saw him at the library again two weeks later, you invited him to sit with you because you could feel his eyes on you from across the room. He sat with you in the library for two hours that day, the both of you laughing and rambling about different books you had read.

Spencer was respectful of your decision not to date. He didn’t pry or ask why which you were the most respectful for, but every time he saw you at the library he would sit with you, you two would talk sometimes, sometimes you would just sit together and read silently, he would finish an abundance of books in the time it took you to read one, and for a while you were convinced he didn’t actually read them.

Then he explained his ability and knowledge one day when he noticed you eyeing him weirdly. Then you were both impressed and interested. It felt like a push and pull game when he asked you out again two days later, and you were almost going to say yes. You were almost going to forget about the hurt you had endured in past relationships or how nothing seemed to work out for you. You were almost going to forget about the engraved belief that you just weren’t made to be loved.

Almost.

You rejected him again, but you told him you really enjoyed spending time with him and you would love to be friends. He had accepted and you felt guilty for the first time in a long time for rejecting someone, he was quick to notice that and reassure you he understood your decision and he would love to be your friend.

That friendship was a bliss. He would disappear sometimes, but when you learnt what he did for work it all made sense. You also didn’t really mind the disappearance of who seemed to be your only friend. You had gotten use to being alone, you enjoyed it. You relished in the space you had, the lack of expectation, the lack of chance of getting hurt.

The more time you spent with Spencer the more you realised how amazing he was. The way he spoke, the way his brain worked, the way he treated you and made you feel. You spent a long time in denial of these feelings for him you had grown, because it never ended well.

You didn’t date. You hadn’t for years and that was good, that was easy. You weren’t hurt or disappointed by meaningless flings or relationships ending badly, you didn’t spend your time trying to get over breakups or men who didn’t know the difference between their, there and they’re.

Not dating was easy. It was safe, and it was good. Until you met Spencer and all of those morals seemed to be thrown out the window every time he would smile, or open a door for you, buy you a collection of gifts when he learnt he had missed your birthday.

You had kissed him, one time when you were at his apartment. You hadn’t really even thought about what you were doing, you just knew he looked really good in the warm lighting of his kitchen, placing a tray of baked cupcakes on the stovetop to cool. You just knew that whatever fear you had of relationships didn’t seem so scary when Spencer was around.

He had kissed you back, almost instantly after a brief moment of surprise. His hands cupped your jaw and curled into your hair, his lips pressed desperately against yours as if he had spent his entire life waiting for this moment alone, he kissed you like his life depended on it. Never had you been kissed like that before.

The conversation after the kiss was a blur in your memories. He asked what that meant. You didn’t know how to answer. He took control of the situation, the conversation that seemed too difficult to have and he made it all seem so much easier, he said he liked you, a lot and that if you liked him back at all, then he wanted to explore that.

You had cried when you opened up to him about your fears of relationships. He had almost cried seeing you cry. The girl who seemed so strong, so independent all the time, crying. He felt guilty as if he had made you cry and from that moment on he had promised he would never be the reason for your tears again, unless happy.

He had promised you he wouldn’t hurt you, he rubbed his calloused thumb over the silk of your skin, pushing away the tears that tainted the skin he deemed so pretty. He had promised you could take it slow, that he wanted to take it slow. That this was all on your terms.

Thats how you ended up here, two months after that night, laying in your bed together after a moment so intimate. Not together, not offical. Not yet.

“Me too.” You mumbled back, he smiled at your words.

“Where’d you go? You disappeared on me” He mumbled as his hand reached out to wrap gently around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Like he needed to hold you. He did that a lot, you noticed. His hands were constantly on you in some way, as if he didn’t believe you were real unless he could physically feel you there.

You let out a breathy laugh, “I was thinking about how we met.” You said honestly. It was almost impossible not to be honest to him. His eyes held something that made the words pour out of you before you could help it. He was so sweet, so gentle, so safe. He was everything you thought you’d never have.

He hummed in acknowledgment as his arm wrapped further around your waist, then he shifted so he was burying his face in between your shoulder and neck, the space he spent so much time you wondered if it smelt more like him then you. His lips pressed against the soft skin there before he mumbled, “You were reading a horrible book.”

You let out an infectious string of laughter, you could feel his smile widen against the skin of your neck. “It really wasn’t that bad.” You defended half playfully — but it was, the book was so poorly written at the time you had been frustrated you wasted your time reading it. Now however, you were so glad because it was what insinuated your first conversation with Spencer when he muttered about it being a bad book.

He pressed another soft kiss against your neck, before pulling back and tilting his head up slightly to look at you, “It really was.” He argued, in the same tone. A warm playful smile on his lips. You felt an ache in your heart, the best kind of ache. The one that seemed to happen every-time he smiled at you.

You felt warm in the cheeks when he looked at you like that, like you were something worth looking at. That wasn’t something you had felt before. Nobody had even felt as safe as Spencer did.

You laughed, “It was pretty bad.” You gave in. He nodded enthusiastically in agreement as he leant down to steal a gentle kiss from your lips, before pulling back, he repositioned so he was hovering over you, on his knees in between your thighs, hands pressed into the pillows on either side of your head, caging you in.

You weren't sure if you had ever been in love before. You thought you had, with your ex all those years ago. You thought a hurt like that could only come from from a love so deep. However with the way Spencer was staring down at you, the way he brought one of his hands to brush gentle strays of hair away from your face and then moved his hand under you jaw to tilt your head upwards and kiss you so gently.

Well, if this was what love felt like than you had never been in love before. Not until now. You swore off dating, you swore off falling for someone, you swore off letting another person in, letting another person know you.

Well Spencer was the execption.

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (8) II a.russo x reader

series playlist one two three four five six seven

will they? won’t they? the age old question x

childhood sweethearts (8) II a.russo x reader

once again alessia found herself sat alone in the same cafe as last time, profound deja vu setting in. her leg was bouncing anxiously and her eyes flickered to the door every few seconds, nervous you'd not show despite having been the one to extend the invitation to her.

but this time alessia knew she was early, having been far too worried about what you might actually have to say to her that she'd shown up a whole forty minutes before your agreed meet up time.

having sat in her car for the last twenty five she'd ventured inside, waiting until it was five minutes before you'd hopefully show to order your coffees, remembering what you had gotten last time and crossing her fingers it was what you'd want again.

her body relaxed the moment you walked inside, raising her hand as you spotted her, the blonde cursing to herself at the awkward gesture as you sat across from her with a smile, seemingly quite relaxed which alessia didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad.

"is this mine?" you asked gesturing to the iced coffee in front of you as the blonde nodded, rambling out that she hoped it was right and that if it wasn't she could easily get you another. "hey, alessia breathe. this is my regular order, it could be two degrees and i'd still get an iced coffee." you joked.

the two of you made some polite small talk, alessia asking about your week as you enquired about hers. the two of you swapping a few stories and a laugh before you decided to put her out of her misery, easily sensing her obvious nerves for why you'd asked her to meet with you in the first place.

which you could hardly blame her for given how your last conversation had gone, and it had taken you a lot of thinking to actually move past that.

"so i obviously asked you to coffee for a reason." you started, alessia nodding as she finished the last mouthful of her drink, setting the empty glass aside.

"i know that the last time we spoke was a bit...tense?" you smiled awkwardly, as one does when the last time you're present in front of someone you scream at them about your dead dad and then promptly collapse into a disgusting sobbing mess.

"and i appreciate you giving me the space that i asked for." you thanked her softly. "there's obviously a lot of history with us alessia and its not something either of us can or should forget, the good and the bad alike." you continued, the blonde across from you twisting her rings around her fingers, clearly still apprehensive about what you might say but listening intently.

"i won’t lie i was so incredibly angry with you for a really long time. and i was hurt and upset and i didn't understand why you did what you did or why you thought i’d have not supported you from the beginning.” you continued, alessia accepting your words with a nod.

“it took me even longer to actually come to terms with my pain and start to move past the anger because it didn’t do me any good, leaving it and you behind. i remember when you won the euros i was grateful to be living overseas because i don’t know how i’d have coped seeing your face plastered everywhere when i had been trying my best to move on with my life.” you were perhaps a little blunt in your words but the blonde across from you appreciated the honesty.

“i got over the breakup a lot faster than i actually got over losing you. i may have lashed out at you about it but you weren’t wrong, we were a huge part of each others lives for a long time before we dated. and i think i felt like once I moved past losing you as a partner, it hurt more to grieve the actual history and years of friendship and that immense bond we had before which was just suddenly gone.” you admitted quietly, a flash of pain glancing across both yours and alessia’s faces momentarily as the blonde was briefly plagued by the memory of her own feelings toward the loss.

“but look i think there is some merit in saying that people change. and i can see that you're making an effort to try and show me that's not who you are anymore." you noted, pausing for a second to collect your thoughts.

"i still feel that the kiss was a mistake, and that it can't and won't happen again. i’ve moved past those feelings for you and i just can’t risk being hurt like that again.” you remanded softly, alessia's stomach clenching at the memory of your lips on hers but she made sure this was disguised, nodding along. unbeknownst to her all of this was also playing on your mind, but you’d shoved deep down how good it felt to lean into the feeling of her lips on yours in favour of not ever wanting to be so let down again, you had your walls up for a reason and you’d learned to protect yourself as best you could.

"but you were right, we do both live here now and its obvious our mums are clearly back in one anothers lives again so we are going to have to interact regardless. so, i guess what i'm trying to say is that i'm open to trying to be friends again." you revealed, alessia's eyebrows shooting upward unable to disguise the obvious surprise on her face at your words.

"but slowly. i still have a lot of trust issues after everything, and they don't just go away overnight." you warned as alessia nodded furtively, clearly trying to hold back the grin which you could see tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"okay." the blonde breathed out, biting her bottom lip to stifle her smile as you shook your head with a smile of your own. "okay?" you chuckled, sipping on the last of your coffee.

"okay. yeah this is good, this will be good. but slowly! i can do slowly." alessia nodded, more as if to reassure herself than you as you hummed. "and just friends less, that other chapter is closed now and i don't want to open it again." you cautioned gently, aware that obviously all of this would be triggering things for her too, not just within you.

"i understand. like i said, i've missed you. to have you back in any capacity is more than i deserve, thank you." alessia admitted quietly with a shy smile, her heart admittedly pounding. again there was the soft vulnerable shy side of her you’d rarely seen growing up, and it was obvious that in her maturity there’d been some changes to her once almost aggressively over confident demeanour.

but between this opportunity that alessia been presented to have you back in her life coupled with the fact you'd just not called her by her full name without correcting yourself, she was quite the happy mess.

"to friendship." alessia lifted her empty glass with a grin causing you to laugh. "really?" you raised an eyebrow in amusement as alessia nodded and gestured for you to do the same. "it's empty! its bad luck to cheers with an empty glass.” you accused pointing to her finished coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"there's some...watery coffee like liquid left." the striker peered into her glass with a wince, the two of you sharing a look and a wide smile.

"fine, to friendship." you knocked your glass into hers, downing the last mouthful of your coffee as the blonde sipped the few milimetres of melted ice left in her own, grimacing in disgust.

"so, how do we um…do this?"

~

walking into training that afternoon there was seldom a thing someone could have said to wipe the shit eating grin off of alessia's face.

she was always known to be a positive person by nature, never unkind or rude to any of the staff or her team, always yelling out encouragement during drills or games, cracking jokes or messing about with the girls who she was closer to.

however to those same girls it was also not hard to see that today there was very obviously an extra bit of pep in the young lionesses step as she sauntered into the cafeteria for lunch, flashing around a toothy grin.

"you're even more chipper than usual less. have a good morning?" lotte questioned with a surprised smile as alessia sat down with her tray of food, humming in agreement. "would you like to elaborate?" lotte chuckled picking at her chicken as vic sat down followed closely by katie and caitlin.

"russo! you're glowin today. have a cheeky midnight rendezvous did we?" katie teased as alessia's face blushed bright red which vac wasted no time teasing her about, pinching at her cheeks as alessia shoved her off with a playful roll of her eyes.

"no. just caught up with an old friend for coffee." alessia explained with a shrug, shoveling a mouthful of food in as lotte narrowed her eyes slightly. "not..." she trailed off with an insinuating look as alessia avoided her eyes.

"oh less." lotte sighed, shaking her head as she picked at her food. "not the ex missus from the bar?" katie caught on quickly with a shocked look, alessia hissing for her to be quiet and smacking her arm across the table.

"an ex girlfriend? you like girls? why am i the last to know about this?" vic scoffed in offence shoving the blonde beside her. "cause you chose not to come out that night! russo here got beyond blind pissed and called her ex missus who had to come and pick her up, and the poor girl was not happy about it." katie caught the dutch girl up as caitlin shoved her, nodding to alessia with a firm warning look.

"oh was that private information? sorry less." katie winced slightly as vic rounded on alessia with a hundred questions. "okay fine i'll tell you! just shut up for five seconds." alessia huffed at the shorter girls persistence who immediatley went quiet, all four girls now looking to the blonde for an explanation.

so with twenty minutes left before they were expected into the gym, alessia opened up about almost everything between you and her, well as much as she was willing to share with her friends anyway.

"christ russo, you planned on leavin without even tellin her? harsh. i'd have dumped ya too, and kicked your arse!" katie whistled, caitlin stomping on her foot with a firm look at her girlfriends inability to clearly read the vibe of a room.

suddenly the training staff called for everyone to head toward the gym as the girls stood, alessia appreciating the forced cut off of their previous conversation as they all dumped their trays and split up to head off out of the cafeteria.

"i stand by what i said early on, are you sure this is a good idea? that you're able to be just friends with her? that break up had you really not okay for a long time less." lotte questioned softly, eyes shining with care for the younger girl.

"look i can't answer that right now. but i would rather have her in my life as a friend than nothing at all. she’s been my best mate since we were five lotte and we've spent too long apart, i miss her." alessia admitted with a sigh, lotte nodding in understanding, pulling her into a tight side hug before they were split up for drills.

~

"oh look what’s come crawling out of its cave, it lives!" your older brother harry teased as he opened the door and let you in, causing you to shove him with a roll of your eyes. "hello stranger." your older sister lilly called out from the sofa causing you to groan in annoyance.

"sorry i have a life outside of mooching off mums cooking and fully stocked up cupboards." you retorted back, shrugging off your jacket and hanging it up by the door.

"they're not here yet." harry added as you glanced toward the backyard where several people littered about. alessia hadn’t been wrong your mum had organised another get together with the russo’s, however of course being the hostess with the mostess she had also invited several of her other friends and their families along too.

“why are you both hiding out in here then?” you chuckled, wandering into the kitchen and shaking your head at the amount of prepped food, enough to feed twice the amount of people. though it would mean you could likely steal some leftovers for your work lunches this week and that was a promising thought.

“i’m taking a break from all the polite small talk and lil’s sick of people touching her tummy.” harry chuckled nodding to your pregnant sister who nodded in agreement. “how is my little niece or nephew doing?” you grinned happily, thumping yourself down beside her and looking at your sister with hopeful eyes as your brother ventured back outside.

“i already told you we’re not finding out the gender until the baby comes, nor will i be revealing any names!” your sister warned making you groan in annoyance, giving her a pout to which she just playfully shoved your head away.

“buzzkill. where’s oli then?” you asked, unable to spot your sisters husband anywhere. “work. he’s taken up every second weekend to try and help us save for the little one.” lily patted her stomach. “you know for some extra money we could capitolise on you being pregnant. i’m sure thats like a fetish or something somewhere.” you shrugged casually as your sister looked at you like you had four heads.

“i’m not even going to dignify that with a response god you are so weird!” your sister shook her head as you only grinned. “so how was your date then? i don’t see a ring!” she teased as you rolled your eyes. “is there anyone mum didn’t tell?” you huffed in annoyance at the ever meddling behaviours of her. “please you know her hairdresser, the market attendant and her nail lady are all rooting for you to find a husband or a wife soon.” that caused both of you to break out into a laugh.

“i date all the genders and yet here i am the only single sibling. i’m honestly shocked mums not tried to set me up with someone or sell me off like a prized cow yet.” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“oh believe me she’s open to it! but you’re lucky she’s so gullible because i personally know you didn’t go on a date, you were just avoiding alessia.” lily quirked an eyebrow knowingly. “i was not!” you defended though you quickly abandoned that strategy at her firm gaze, seeing right through your lies.

“it didn’t work anyway she just came over afterwards.” you sighed as your sisters eyebrows raised. “oo did you two have hot hate sex?” lily asked as your eyes bugged and you smacked her on the arm. “what? of course not!” you scoffed in offence with a deep seeded frown.

“please if you think i didn’t know the two of you were more than friends once upon a time then you’re even more of a moron than i thought. harry and i have known for years!” your sister chuckled as your mouth formed a small o in shock at the reveal.

“how?” you questioned with a frown. “well firstly because you didn’t just deny it-“ she started as you groaned. “and secondly you were both horrible at sneaking around. the shared love bites alone were enough, you’re just lucky mums so oblivious.” she chuckled as you sighed, head thumping back on the pillow.

you’d told her way back then that both you and alessia had decided not to be friends anymore after she kept going to college from you, but you’d never told her the true nature of your relationship.

“why didn’t you ever tell me that you knew! especially after i came out!” you shoved her in annoyance. “i figured you’d want to leave it in the past. plus with dad and everything you had enough going on without the added stress.” her voice softened as you nodded.

“so she came over afterwards? are you two working it out then?” lily asked curiously as you shook your head firmly. “not like that. but we are slowly working on building a friendship back.” you revealed as your sister squeezed your shoulder in a silent understanding.

“well that’s nice then. but come on, if we don’t go and mingle soon i fear mum will send in a search party.” your sister rolled her eyes before you helped her up, the two of you making your way outside, greeted by cheers as you were passed from old family friend to friend giving pleasantries and half sincere smiles.

and that’s exactly how alessia found you as the russo’s arrived, the sun already setting as they made their way around the side of the house, gio and luca bickering as mario warned them to drop it.

they were a little later than everyone else, as arsenal had just won 4-1 with a lunchtime fixture much as alessia had encouraged her family to come here and she would meet them later they never missed a match where they could and she was grateful for their undying support.

as her family dispersed to greet everyone alessia’s eyes of course found you first, a soft smile coming to her lips as she watched your head go back with a laugh at something.

long gone were the days the two of you would hide away from everyone up in your room, it had seemed time had busted you right out of your shell as the blonde watched you effortlessly and confidently engage in conversations with everyone, joking around and waving your hands about as you clearly told some sort of story which had the group around you in stitches.

but well aware that the two of you were trying to go slow alessia chose purposefully not to go to you first, instead making her way around to those who she knew saying hello. she found herself engaged in a heated conversation with her brothers and a few of her dads friends about the match which just passed, playfully taking the mick out of them for the fact they were spurs supporters and that’s who she’d just beaten.

“lessi darling have you eaten anything since you played?” your mum interrupted, grabbing her arm with a smile as alessia shook her head. “well we can’t have that. come with me!” alessia laughed as she was lovingly dragged inside where the rest of the food was, chatting away with the older woman as she piled a plate high with it.

“mum for god sakes stop force feeding people!” alessia’s head turned as you appeared, stepping through the back door with a playful roll of your eyes. “she hasn’t eaten and she’s just played a full match! let your mother be a mother would you.” the older woman swatted at you as you grinned,

“heard you lost, what a shame.” you sighed toward the older girl who rolled her eyes. “no it’s not like golf, remember the team with the most goals wins!” alessia quipped back, thanking your mum with a kiss on the cheek as the woman placed a stacked plate of food in front of her.

“boring.” you shrugged, sending her a smile and offering her a drink which she accepted, your mum excusing herself back outside. “you went to a sold out semi final of the world cup without even knowing the rules of the game, and as an english woman. you’re lucky you didn’t get your head kicked in on the train home!” alessia laughed after she’d swallowed a mouthful of food.

you chuckled at that and retorted that you were not anyone’s favourite person that next day at school especially your very torn up very australian students. but the comment did have you thinking back to that night, where you had to see her for the first time in years and she didn’t even know you were there.

your coworkers had all but dragged you to the match, and despite not being a football fan you didn’t live under a rock. you knew alessia was in the england squad, your social media had been drowned in friends and family all posting and sharing about the teams extremely successful tournament.

englands love and pride for football ran deep and despite being in another country it seemed you just couldn’t escape the beloved strikers face following you around.

it had been the same for the euro’s however you’d been able to try and avoid that as much as you could with that not being something many australians bothered about. but with this tournament happening on the same soil you worked and lived on, it had become ten times harder to ignore it.

it had taken two days of stress and panic for you to actually come to terms with the fact that you’d be seeing her again, even from hundreds of metres away up in the stands, kept safe by the four walls of the corporate box you were all being treated to. your coworkers had forced you into a matilda’s jersey however you made a point of buying an england scarf as to not entirely betray your home country.

it had comforted you to know that at least alessia wouldn’t know you were there, and unlike every other time you’d supported her at a match in the past her eyes wouldn’t meet yours with a cheeky grin and a point in your direction when she scored.

that didn’t however stop you from cheering when she did, you were after all still very proud of the team and knew what this would do for womens sports even if you weren’t personally a die hard football fan. the cheers which were very quickly silenced by the murderous glares of the australians surrounding you in the box.

“you wore an australian jersey?” alessia gasped in disbelief as you revealed that to her. “i was trying to fit in! i had an england scarf.” you defended yourself with a laugh, the two of you sat on opposite ends of the lounge after alessia had finished eating.

“traitor to your own country.” alessia tutted making you roll your eyes before the blonde let out a large yawn, quickly covering her mouth as her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “sorry!” she apologised, shaking her head as if to wake herself up a little.

“don’t be. i was actually going to head home pretty soon, do you want a lift?” you offered hesitantly, alessia assuring she didn’t want to be a bother. “you’re not, pretty sure everyone’s made a point to tell me you only live a few minutes down the road. and I’d like to get out of here before they break out the karaoke!” you joked as alessia couldn’t help but nod in agreement, accepting your offer.

it took the two of you a further hour to say your goodbyes, the time now ticking over past eight in the evening you accepted the boo’s and the jeer’s that you were bailing early, brushing them off with a smile and a hug.

promising carol you’d come over soon and see her properly you finally made a break for the exit, alessia following suit as you made a beeline out the door and toward your car.

“they don’t ever get tired of making the point we grew up and aren’t thirteen anymore huh?” you laughed as you both buckled up. “oh look at you! so grown up! so beautiful, looking just like your mother!” alessia cooed sarcastically, reaching over to squeeze your cheeks and shake your head back and forth as you laughed and swatted her away.

it was almost scary how easy it felt to slip back into this light banter with her, chattering away as if no time had passed it surprised you how effortlessly the chips had fallen into place.

though despite that your walls were still very much so up, and you knew there were certain topics of conversation you’d avoid with her, and you still wanted to take it slow.

“hey this is really random, and please feel free to say no. but do you want to go get ice cream? there’s a gelato place not far from my apartment and i’ve kind of been craving it lately.” alessia asked apprehensively, fiddling with her hands.

“weren’t you just yawning a few minutes ago?” you chuckled, not catching the way alessia’s face flickered into disappointment for a moment before a smile quickly tugged at her lips.

“but hey who would i be to say no to ice cream.”

~

“this is me just up here.” alessia pointed as you nodded, driving a little down the street until you found a park. “you really are quite close, i could have walked from my place.” you smiled as the two of you got out of the car.

“the winds picking up and it’s supposed to rain tomorrow you might want a jumper or something.” alessia noted as you nodded, opening the back door and frowning at the empty seats.

“oh my jacket!” you remembered with a groan as realised you’d left it at your mums house, and of course it was one of your favourites. “dressed inappropriately for the london weather, remember you’re not in australia anymore!” alessia teased as you closed your door with a huff.

“i had one! i left it at back at mums place.” you sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself as indeed the wind had picked up. “typical. wait here.” alessia rolled her eyes playfully, stopping herself from inviting you inside well aware that might be a little too soon.

“less its fine i’ll warm up as we walk!” you called after her but the stubborn blonde dismissed you with a wave, glad to be facing away from you as she hurried toward her front door, hiding the smile which wound its way onto her lips at you again not calling her by her full name.

progress.

“here.” the striker returned a few minutes later, holding out a large charcoal grey coat in your direction, having slipped on a hoodie underneath the puffer jacket she was wearing earlier and tied her hair back into a low bun.

“your arms are so long.” you shrugged it on with a huff and rolled up the ends of the sleeves making alessia laugh. “not my fault i had a growth spurt and you’re the same height as when you were twelve.” the blonde smirked causing you to push her with a roll of your eyes.

“i am not! i’m barely a head shorter than you.”

“wow i didn’t realise heads were a metre long.”

“at least i know the size of my own legs. i saw you fall over before!” you grinned, the blonde indeed having tripped over the leg of a chair and tumbled down to the ground, relentlessly ribbed by her brothers for it she had been grateful no one else had seen.

or so she thought.

“thank you though.” you spoke more sincerely, definitely grateful for the barrier from the icy sharp poke of the london evening wind.

as the two of you walked it took every single ounce of your restraint not to focus on the fact that the coat smelled like her and that her scent had changed over the years from how you remembered it.

no longer was it plagued with notes of bergamot and lavender, or her infamous green apple shampoo. now you found yourself drowned in the faint but still ever present aroma of what was likely a rather expensive perfume, much more floral and light but still with some woody undertones, like how the ground smelled in spring after it rained.

it seemed ridiculous to say but she smelled rich, and yet still just as ever alluring as she had when you were younger and you’d steal her hoodies. relishing in pretending that she was with you in bed on nights where the two of you had to be apart, the blonde away on some sort of football tournament or camp.

if anything that made it a little easier to just tell yourself it was someone else’s coat given the unfamiliar aroma, to delude your poor overworked mind that you didn’t notice that you could still find yourself in a drunken haze on how intoxicatingly comforting it felt to wear her clothes, which had always hung off of you in the most ridiculous ways given your height difference.

because you wouldn’t dare to fall back into that trap, you couldn’t.

“can i try that one please?” alessia asked politely with a smile, pointing to a rocky road flavour as your eyes surveyed the counter, biting down on your bottom lip as your options ticked over in your head.

“oh yum. hey try this.” she nudged your shoulder with hers and held out the half eaten spoon toward you without a second thought. you knew she hadn’t meant anything by the casual gesture, the two of you had always shared food or drinks without a care.

but now, with your walls up and already struggling to pull your head out of the hazy fog caused by the fact you were wearing her coat and drowned in her smell, the simple gesture felt far too familiar for you to accept.

so you shook your head, pushing it back toward her and avoiding her eyes you felt look toward you. “can i please get a scoop of the caramel peanut butter and one of the cake batter please? in a cup.” you requested with a smile toward the young girl serving you.

“can i get a scoop of the rocky road and the cookies and cream please? in a cone.” alessia ordered her own, moving toward the counter as you were preoccupied with reading all the other weird and wacky flavours in the small but seemingly busy shop.

with you distracted she wasted no time paying for both of them with a simple tap, thanking the girl and grabbing both her cone and your cup, chuckling at your sweet tooth and making her way to you.

“that’s not fair! you payed for coffee too.” you scowled once you realised what she’d done, the two of you sitting down on a small table outside. “you can pay next time then.” alessia smiled over her ice cream causing you to roll your eyes.

“so do you have a busy week? though that’s probably quite a stupid question given your job.” alessia asked and quickly clarified with a sheepish chuckle.

“you’re not wrong. but they’re actually a great group of kids, a couple i have to keep an eye on but i love teaching them at this age. they’re just starting to learn and develop opinions and big feelings and watching that and encouraging it is so rewarding. much as those big feelings can sometimes be very overwhelming.” you laughed and suddenly realised you were rambling, a slight blush covering your cheeks.

“sorry. but no my weeks okay? I actually have monday off because they have an excursion and i drew the lucky card of not having to chaperone.” you sighed happily, as much as you did adore your class to wrangle over 40 kids in an environment outside of the school was often a nightmare, so you weren’t upset at missing out and having a three day weekend.

“did you really draw cards?” alessia asked with an amused smile. “no we draw names out of a hat.” you teased before explaining there was a rotating roster of which grade teachers had to attend each excursion.

“but a three day weekend means rory is dragging me out tomorrow night. which feels illegal given it’ll be a sunday!” you chuckled with a shake of your head, your long time friend forever trying to harass you into going out with her had meant she’d capitalised on this opportunity as soon as you’d make the mistake of mentioning it.

“what about you?” you switched the focus back to alessia who paused to swallow her mouthful of ice cream. “a few of the england girls are around london for an award show tonight so we’re going out tomorrow night to catch up. though for some reason they’ve decided to let tooney plan it so god knows what we’ll end up doing!” alessia rolled her eyes with a smile.

“award show? look at you, the little football mad girl from Kent going from mud wrestling and slumming it in the boys team to living it up in london rubbing elbows with celebrities.” you grinned as the two of you decided to start walking back.

“hardly, it feels so odd. people knowing who you are, wanting your attention or an autograph, knowing you’ve made their day even just by giving them a wave. you ride out the highs but then there’s the lack of privacy and all the media assumptions and the news articles and the criticism of every single match. i’m so incredibly grateful for all of it but sometimes its a little much.” alessia admitted with a sigh.

“i’m sorry i can’t even begin to imagine how that feels.” you empathised with the taller girl with a small frown. “i don’t even think i know how it feels. one day it’s the best job ever and you’re getting silverware and praise and the next you miss one kick and feel like you’ve let an entire country down.” alessia continued with a wince.

“social media would really make it worse huh.” you winced along with her at the thought of the millions of trolls which could hide behind the anonymous natures of theirs accounts. “god you have no idea. it was really bad when all the contract negotiations were going on with united before i moved to arsenal.” alessia sighed as you listened intently.

“everyone was telling me what to do or assuming what i was doing and that would lead to another news article speculating about my future and suddenly everyone feels the right to tear down everything. my football, my family, my weight, my appearance, everything. and it felt like i couldn’t escape it anywhere, even my own teammates were questioning what i was doing and where i was going if not with united but without a contract signed with arsenal yet because of the transfer window i legally couldn’t tell anyone what was happening.” alessia vented, the two of you finishing your ice creams as you dumped your empty cup in a nearby bin.

“sorry! that was…look its in the past. but yeah, social media sucks.” alessia caught herself becoming overtly emotionally at the memories and quickly breezed over them. “hey that sounds awful and i’m really sorry you had to go through that, but less don’t diminish the fact it felt horrible. people can be so cruel and cowardly on social media.” you grabbed her arm and gave her a smile so soft it had alessia’s knees wobbling.

“thank you. if anything nowadays it just drives me to train harder and play better, the best way to shut them up is by proving them wrong.” alessia shrugged, wrenching her eyes away from yours for fear of drowning in them.

“wow well it’s comforting to know all those years of torture kicking footballs at my head was worth it then.” you smiled bumping your shoulder into her. “mmm yeah using you for target practice really paid off, thanks!” she bumped you back with a grin as the two of you arrived to your car.

“text me when you get home safe yeah?” alessia asked with a slight frown as you nodded, unlocking your car and shrugging off her coat, folding it neatly and handing it back to her. “they have these crazy things called heaters in cars now.” you joked before she could offer for you to keep it, not wanting to entertain the thought.

“thank you, that was nice. catching up and stuff!” alessia smiled, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “yeah it was.” you agreed sharing her thought, as nice as it could be for exes who suddenly decide after six years to try and be friends, nothing weird or hard about that at all.

a silence fell between the two of you, both sizing the other up and very clearly unsure how to end things. did you hug? did you both just part ways? did you say goodbye?

you both obviously picked up on the slightly awkward tension and chuckled shyly, and then with a few more moments of silence alessia decided to go for it well aware of a potential rejection.

she stepped toward you and opened her arms slightly, clearly hesitant as you paused. but then your arms were wrapped around her and your face was pressed into her chest and alessia held her breath for fear if she even moved slightly you might disappear.

your body filled with a warmth you’d not felt in years as her taller form wrapped around you in a tight hug, the double layers of clothing covering her only bringing more comfort as you could have melted into her.

but your walls suddenly sprang back up and you pulled away, sending her a rushed smile and a quick goodbye before slipping into your car as she made her way to her front door, watching as your car pulled off and disappeared around the corner.

busy driving you failed to see your phone light up with a notification as you turned your music louder to try and distract your mind from overthinking.

@alessiarusso99 has requested to follow you.

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chapter nine

[kneazle]

Clandestine meetings were something Tommy was very familiar with back when he was in the closet. He just never thought he would be having one again–though this time it had nothing to do with a relationship he was trying to hide or sex.

Tommy spotted the person he was meeting the second he walked into the diner, a place out of the way that was known to truckers traveling in and out of LA. He gave the older woman at the counter a brief smile as he walked to the back corner booth. He slid across from the other occupant who slid a cup of coffee across the table. No words were exchanged as he put his normal two creams two sugars in–her gaze on him the whole time.

"What changed your mind?" She asked, not beating around the bush and he was glad for it. This wasn't exactly how Tommy wanted to spend his day off, but it was needed.

"It's become worse," Tommy told her, the anger seeping into his tone.

"I'm curious," She took a drink from her own coffee, "Two weeks ago you called me asking for my help to get Gerrard out of the 118, changed your mind three days later because Buck begged you not to do anything, and now you changed your mind again?"

He shook his head, leaning forward making her eyes narrow in interest, "I dont just want him out of the 118 anymore– I want him fired."

"What happened?"

"Evan happened."

Taylor moved her coffee aside and leaned in herself, arms crossed on the table as worry crossed her face, "Tommy?"

"I knew it was a possibility that Gerrard would risk one of their lives at some point– he has a history of leaving people to die, I should know–" Tommy began, Taylor sucked in a breath at his words, "But a foolish part of me hoped he learned his lesson in that at least."

"But he didn't."

Tommy shook his head, "They had a call at an apartment fire, and Evan was trapped. Gerrard wanted to leave him saying they wouldn't be able to get to him, luckily he wasn't the one in charge of the scene or–" He stopped and pushed back the emotion trying to rise to the surface, or he'd be dead was left unsaid, "I can't sit back and do nothing, if Evan is upset when he finds out then so be it, it's worth it to keep him and everyone I care about at the 118 safe."

"It's going to take a lot more to get him fired then just getting him removed."

"I know, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I know you still care about him Taylor, are you in?"

"Yes," She answered, no hesitation, "And I already have an idea of where we can start–"

It took two months to gather everything they needed to get him removed, a lot of it involving both of their connections, and people Tommy helped save who he kept in contact with and were willing to be their eyes when it was safe to at calls the 118 went out on. Video evidence against Gerrard grew, but they had one more plan to go through as a backup in case the videos of his behavior weren't enough. It wasn't something he was looking forward to and it would be the part to upset Evan, but Gerrard was dangerous and Tommy would protect Evan and the 118 even if it resulted in their first fight.

All they had to do was wait for the right moment.

When that time came, Tommy who was on the same scene as the 118, discreetly sent a text to Taylor. No one noticed Taylor Kelly standing with the crowd of on-lookers disguised and hiding her hair in a hat. Tommy clocked her and made sure most of his back was to the video she was recording, that way no one could see or hear what he was saying except Gerrard who stopped in front of him with a sneer. Tommy fixed himself and his body to look as if he was afraid to anyone watching the video, and he began speaking the practiced words. Gerrard’s face changed from disgust to anger.

Gasps came from every direction as the older man's fist came in contact with Tommy's face. Right there for three stations to witness along with multiple civilians.

"Tommy!" He heard Evan shout as the 118 rushed over, Eddie psychically putting himself between Gerrard and Tommy as Evan grabbed for Tommy to gently turn his head checking his soon-to-be bruised face. He was surprised the old man had such a right hook still. Hen stepped in, her eyes worried but Tommy gave her and Evan both a reassuring smile despite the slight jolt at the action.

"That was uncalled for Gerrard!–" Tommy heard Chimney start in on him, but couldn't see him as Evan and Hen were in front of him, and Eddie stood in protective mode making sure he didn't come at Tommy again.

Tommy felt a swirling of love for all of them in his chest and knew this was the right choice even more.

"I'm alright I promise," Tommy told them, his hand squeezing Evan's before pulling away reminding himself that they were still at work–and made a deal when they first started dating to keep it professional.

Tommy's captain and the other stations captain had come over and pulled Gerrard away, their faces furious.

He accepted the ice pack Hen handed him, and moved over to where the crowd was gathered.

"Tommy what–" Evan followed after him confused, the sound of the others boots trailed after.

"You get all that?" Tommy asked Taylor when he was close enough.

"What the hell is going o–" Evan cut off with a noise of surprise, eyes wide as Taylor grinned and took off her hat and glasses.

"Got it all," She waved her phone in the air briefly before smiling at the others with a nod.

"Uh–" Hen gestured at the two with her hands, "What is going on here?"

Tommy sighed and motioned for them to move more to the side, "Taylor and I have been working to get Gerrard fired."

"You were...working with Buck's ex?" Chimney looked back and forth between the three of them.

Tommy shrugged, "I did what had to be done."

"I feel like my head is going to explode," Evan mumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes as if he was seeing things, "You weren't meeting up with co-workers..you were planning with Taylor?"

He nodded, now reaching for Evan's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Hold on–" Eddie chimed in, "So that punch–"

"Was supposed to happen."

"You purposely got yourself punched?!– I mean I'm glad it looks as if the guy is done for but are you kidding me Tommy?"

All of them backed away at Evan's tone.

"Uh- I love you?"

"Thomas Kinard–"

"Uh oh he brought out the full name," Chimney mumbled as they all backed away more.

Except all Evan did was cup Tommy's good side and pull him in for a kiss.

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part xiii

✧.* it's not your week, or month, or season at all. Your luck has run out it seems.

✧.* todays race has me fucked up, so heres some more shit show 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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f1gossipz

liked by 562 others

f1gossipz apparently there's a rumor going around that mclaren driver y/n and zak brown lashed out at each other last night during their debrief, we don't know about what but we can only guess.

y/n was later seen leaving the hospitality and the paddocks all by herself.

We don't have any more information but will keep you guys updated.

view all 362 comments

norrizz honestly, zak needs to pull his head out of his ass..does he not realise what she's given the team so far? I'm sorry, I love lando but he could've never done that on his own OR with another teammate

hamilt44n I feel bad for her, apparently she also had a fight with Carlos in Ferrari's garage..it's like the whole grid is against her right now..

yukisan why'd she go to Carlos??

hamilt44n probably because they have a long history and know each other well?

maxnorris I get that it's wrong what she did to milou but they're acting like she killed the girl..

norry4 again..how far does one have to go to crack y/n.. do they not realize that what Milou is doing is fucking dangerous

y/nloveee I just want to go and hug my girl real tight, I just know she's alone because lando was out with Max and cecile last night. 😔

charles16 no he did not?! What an asshole..

landonorizzzz guys let's calm down, we don't know if it's true..

y/nlandooo I feel like it is though, the grid and the FIA are picking the wrong side here..I'd be pissed too..

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Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot @ironmaiden1313 @justdreamersdream @dreamsarebig

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie

[ajortga]

comfort person

pairing: sam carpenter x female reader

summary: sammy spends time with you after a long day, giving you all the love money can't buy.

word count: 1.7k+

a/n: first sam fic, just had this idea and plan on writing more of her later on. more jenna fics will be out soon:). thank you for 600 followers<3

-

Sam is greeted with the sight of your figure waddling to her after school, her hands making way to her helmet that protects her head. As she takes it off and feels the cool breeze flow through her hair, she her heart strings tug when your smile widens and you walk faster to her.

“Hi, baby,” she says, kissing your forehead gently while playing with your hair. Her arms wrap around you as soon as she places her helmet against the seating of her motorcycle.

Immediately you cling onto her, burying your face into her chest because that’s the only place your head can reach. Her scent invades your senses, sweet and slightly musky from her leather jacket.

Sam peppers kisses against your hair, stroking it softly. It warms her heart (that’s meant to be tough) seeing your slightly grumpy façade melt as soon as her protective arms wrap around you. But, could you not say the same for her? Seeing the way your girlfriend’s eyes soften like ice cream on a hot summer day. Sam isn’t the closed off person that your best friends see, not your Sammy.

She’s the sweetest, making you melt into her arms whenever you have a bad day, cuddles and kisses at night, soothing tummy rubs for bad stomach aches. 

“Hi, Sammy.” You look up at her, eyes a little tired with her arms snug around your waist as she brushes a strand away from your face, studying you.

She softly smiles at you, rubbing your cheek. “Tired?” She asks, a little worried.

You nod, “Just a little. Too many tests.”

“That’s not good,” the taller girl says, voice etched with concern. “You were up studying.” She pauses for a moment, before lifting you on the motorcycle seat, behind her. “What about this? I’ll make you feel better, are you willing to go somewhere or do you want to stay home? I have a surprise.”

You murmur incoherently against her chest, a few muffled words before saying, “Mm willing to go somewhere.”

Sam kisses your forehead, “Okay, hold onto me. When we get home I’ll give you all the cuddles in the world, cook you dinner, and turn on your favorite movie. It’s Friday anyway.”

Your girlfriend turns around and places her helmet on your head, making sure that you’re safe and comfortable before taking off, a soft vroom sounding.

You drive through the buildings and city of Woodsboro, people spilling coffee, apartments into view, parties beginning to happen as you cling onto Sam’s waist.

A turn here, brake here, vroom there. Your eyes close, nuzzling into Sam’s back. It’s not long before you two come to a stop when you open your eyes. 

“Build-A-Bear?” you question, looking at your girlfriend who is grinning at you.

“You know I can’t ignore the way you keep checking on my phone if that Pochacco plush is sold out, right? My whole search history is, “Pochacco plush build a bear” or “Is Pochacco still at Build-A-Bear stores?” Don’t even get me started with, “Why is Pochacco build-a-bear stuffed animal so expensive on eBay?” So we’re going to find that stuffed animal.” Sam scrunches her nose, seeing the way you embarrassingly smile.

For some reason, Sam’s internet on her phone works better than yours, so you catch yourself desperate to see if your Build-A-Bear plush you wanted is still out of stock online.

She ties the helmet on your head against the handles of her motorcycle, extending her hand for you to hold.

You take it as you both walk into the store. “I don’t understand how your phone works faster than mine, Sammy. You barely use it!” 

Sam rolls her eyes, “Not my fault that the wifi just favorites me, mi vida. Come on, we’re gonna get you that plushie.”

Your arm clings onto hers as you place your head on her shoulder, a way for you to show your affection. It’s always sweet to Sam, seeing your clinginess whenever you’re with her. You're skipping with her, teeth shown in a toothy, happy smile.

She doesn’t understand how you do it, she’s supposed to be closed-off to everyone except for Tara. Her sister even has to tease her for it because she finds herself buying flowers for you and making a Spotify playlist for you. “It’s cute, Sam.” Tara assures her, pinching her shoulder.

Sam holds the door for you, in which you immediately cling back onto her. Cool breeze surrounded you both from the AC, the comfy atmosphere of stuffed animals and outfits. You drag her to the Sanrio section where Pochaccos were waiting for you.

Before she could even speak, you turned to her, holding an unstuffed Pochacco while wearing puppy eyes. A smile cracks onto her face as she pulls you into her chest, “Is that all you want? Shouldn’t we get him some clothes so he isn’t.. You know, unclothed?”

“Naked,” you correct, looking up when she rolls her eyes and nods. “Yes, naked. Do you have to make me say it?”

You sniff, “Yes, I do actually. Okay, help me choose the clothes, Sammy!”

As you two hold on to each other while looking at the colorful clothing, she gently circles her thumb against your palm. She reluctantly agrees when you ask her to have her speak for the voice box. You didn’t want to sleep without hearing her. But sometimes, she had to work late, and this was a cute option.

Sam goes through the clothes, pulling out a purple bikini, “What about this one?”

You stare at it, before bursting out into a laugh. “Sammy, Pochacco is a boy! He can’t wear a bikini!”

“Oh yeah? Says who, Y/N? This is a free country!” She argues while your head is buried into her chest, the scent of musk from her leather jacket filling your senses.

“Yes it’s a free country! But I was wanting Pochacco to wear something that fit his personality!”

She sighs, relenting as she puts away the bikini. “I thought our Pochacco would look very fashionable wearing a purple bikini. Oh!” She pulls out a flying ace outfit, with pilot goggles and a fluffy brown bomber jacket. “This one?”

Sam knows she made the right choice as you give her a toothy grin. A grin that makes her smile too. “Okay! Yay! That one.” You watch when she helps you carry the outfits and your bags. 

“How about we get him some overalls too? He can’t always go out wearing the same outfit, can he?”

“I guess not,” you sigh dramatically, “Overalls would be very cute.”

You two dig through the outfits before being able to find the jean overalls. “I have another idea for an outfit we should get.” 

Your girlfriend turns to you while grabbing a pair of tiny overalls, “Oh?” She tilts her head, “What would that be, mi vida?”

The tall brunette feels your hands untangle from hers before you run away, coming back 10 seconds later with your nose scrunched, holding a familiar purple bikini. Her eyes gleam, grinning at you. “Told you, fashionable.”

You roll your eyes.

~

By the time you two are about to checkout, you both are holding a lot of outfits. (Sam insisted as she got your stuffy shoes, hats, scarfs, hell, even a dress.) It made your cheeks burn as you had to look away from her to not let a smile break throughout your face when she was looking for a “I love Sam” or “I love Y/N” shirt. Unfortunately, she had to resort to a “I love you” shirt instead. 

Your forehead is peppered with kisses when you both are in line. You let the sweetness of Sam comfort you as you nuzzle her, burying your body against her.

“Talk about a cute couple,” the two girls say behind you, jealousy and admiration in their tone. 

You two get to a register as Sam pays. Next thing you know, the Pochacco is taken out of your hand to be stuffed. A soft whirring sound buzzes from the stuffing station, fuzz flying in the large container with a bear to decorate on top. You shiver from the AC that is starting to get a little too chilly.

Sam smiles down at you, her fingers threading through your hair. They begin to stuff your Pochacco, his body starting to inflate until it looks like a cute puppy. 

“All done!” The worker says, handing the puppy to you with a sweet smile. 

The cute face stares back at you as you hug him tight, a soft song playing when you squeeze him.

“I’ll get the custom voice box tonight, promise.” Sam says, draping her leather jacket over you, catching the way you begin to feel cold. 

“I love you,” you whisper, letting her kiss you softly. You hold Pochacco up for her to hold, the leather sleeves slightly oversized. You two leave the store and sit against a chair together.

He’s cute, Sam thinks, squishing him gently as you two begin to dress him. You start him with some overalls, black converse, and a heart headband. She notices how you look so happy. It makes her heart squeeze. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you some cinnamon rolls, okay? Then we can cuddle up and watch a movie when we get home.” Your arm links with hers as you both head back to the motorcycle, Sam making sure to stay on the side with the cars on them as you two walk.

The rest of the day, you spend time cuddling in bed with a fluffy blanket wrapped around you two. You don't let your stuffed animal go whatsoever. (Sam doesn't want to admit that you brought an extra chair to make the fluffy creature sit at dinner.)

"An extra meatball for him," You point at Pochacco as she sighs, pouring some spaghetti on a small plate.

-

Whenever Sam comes home late, she's greeted with the sight of you, hugging the plushie and squeezing the voice box like you'll die if you don't hear her.

"Hi, sweetheart. Just wanted to let you know that I love you and miss you. Hold tight, I'm always thinking about you and will give you so many cuddles when I get home, okay? I love you mi vida."

You sniff, burying your face into the plushie as you keep squeezing the arm, a different lullaby of Sam playing every time.

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-It Friday Coda

Here is my 7x01 coda that I'm also counting for Fuck-It Friday! So thank you for the tags @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @jesuisici33 and @diazsdimples! Posted to ao3 here.

“How the talk with Chris go? He still seeing being a two timer?” Marisol asks with a sly smile.

Eddie blows out a harsh breath, “There wasn’t much of a talk on my end.”

She quirks an eyebrow, “Oh? You just letting him work it on his own?”

He shakes his head, “Oh god no. That would have just made an even bigger mess.” Eddie has to look away from his girlfriend as he admits, “Actually I asked Buck to talk to him. He has some um... experience with the whole ‘player’ thing.”

Marisol’s wine glass smacks loudly on the coffee table in the silence that follows, and Eddie barely holds back a wince. Still, he doesn’t look at her. He never does when speaking about Buck.

“You had your newly single best male friend, with a history of getting around, talk to your son about not doing the exact same thing?” Marisol sound appalled and it has Eddie whipping around to see her actual reaction. His girlfriend looked upset and disgusted? What is that about?

“Um, yea. Buck has the insight into all of that and he’s reformed and all that.” Eddie tries defending.

She scoffs, “Reformed? Didn’t he just break up with his last girlfriend because he got bored.”

Well, that was a very poor recount of events that had already been poorly told by Buck and Eddie felt the low simmer of burgeoning anger, “Buck did not get bored. He was trying to live, move on from his death, and all that woman was doing, was being a constant reminder of it.”

The anger rises at Marisol rolling her eyes, “Like I said, bored. But that’s not really the point here.”

He grinds his back molars, “What is the point then, in your opinion?”

She narrows her eyes at his tone, “The point is Christopher isn’t going to learn to respect women, be a courteous young man by talking to a man whose disastrous dating history is printed in a best-selling book by someone from said history. He’s Christopher’s fun friend, the guy he goes to when he doesn’t want to get in trouble and you’re feeding into it.”

Eddie slams his beer to the coffee table, making Marisol’s almost empty wine glass wobble from the force, and rises his feet, “After me, Buck is one of the most important people in Christopher’s life. You have not a single understanding of what they are to each other, what they have been through. What Buck has personally been through. He is not some womanizing asshole corrupting my son. He is Christopher’s best friend; my best friend, and the person I know I can turn to when I need help with Christopher. With anything.”

Marisol rises to her feet, “And you’re allowing him to continue take up the space I am trying to get into. I thought we we’re getting somewhere when you invited me to chaperon Chris’s date with you, when you opened up about your worries about him. But instead of letting me try to help you ran to a person you can’t bring up without looking away.”

He immediately proves her point and puts his gaze on the fireplace mantle, eyes roaming over every photo. There several of just him and his son, pre-LA to just last year before Christopher’s school dance. There are pictures of their family back in Texas and the entirety of the 118. Then there are photos with Buck. Christopher and Buck at the zoo. The trio of them at the mall fountain. Eddie’s graduation. Christopher’s 10th birthday. And second to last, Eddie and Buck, arms around each other’s shoulders at Hen and Karen’s vow renewal. At the end of all those photos sits the last family picture of Eddie, Christopher, and Shannon took at the beach.

Eddie thinks back on the picture Christopher turned down on his desk and the letter he almost didn’t read. He thinks about how his first instinct was to turn to Buck and not the girlfriend who witnessed Christopher’s player antics, someone who could give insight on how those girls felt. And then he realizes, Christopher wouldn’t have opened up about his mother to anyone, but Buck.

That space Marisol is trying to fit herself into, is too large, too broad, and perfectly Buck shaped.  She would never fit.

With a sense of déjà vu, Eddie drops his gaze to floor and softly states, “I think you should go.”

💜🩷💜🩷

Wine glass rinsed out, beer bottle in the recycling, and a reusable tote bag just barely filled with Marisol’s few items left at his house sat near the door, Eddie relaxes back into his couch.

Marisol put up a lack-luster fight to leaving, but eventually she drowned the last of her wine and called an uber. “He’s not going stick around forever. He’s going to break both yours and Christopher’s hearts.” She warned, “And you’ll be just as alone as you were in the hardware store.”

Eddie held back a harsh retort and simply told her, “I haven’t been alone since I met him and I never will be if either one of us has a say about it.”

He opened the door, Marisol got into a little gray sedan, and she went back to the home Eddie helped destroy.

Picking up his phone from the coffee table, Eddie pulls up his contact favorites, smirking humorously at Marisol’s missing name, and presses the person at the very top. It rings twice, before, “Hey man, thought it was date night?”

“Asked her to go home.” Eddie replies.

Silence on the other end for a just a moment then, “Man, you really need to find a better way to break up with women.” Buck teases.

Eddie chuckles, “Well at least there was no mess to clean up this time.”

Buck hums in agreement before softly asking, “You doing okay?”

Not a single lie passed his lips when he answered, “More than. But you know what would help?”

“What?”

“Go-karts in the dessert.”

A laugh that makes Eddie feel warm all over, “It’s a date.”

Hope you all enjoyed! Tagging (no pressure): @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @devirnis @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @cal-daisies-and-briars @aroeddiediaz @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @perfectlysunny02 @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie

[deepfrost-citadel]

"You know," Xisuma said, peering cautiously over Cub's shoulder at the museum's latest addition, "When you said you wanted to show me a new exhibit, I wasn't expecting…" He trailed off.

Evil Xisuma glowered at him from inside their enclosure.

"…This."

To say Evil X looked a little miffed about the situation would be an understatement. At least Cub had done a nice job decorating, Xisuma thought, between the blackstone and crimson wood, Evil X looked right at home - if they weren't sitting grumpily in their 2-by-1 lava pool, surrounded by the mangled remains of whatever Cub had put in there for enrichment.

"Surprise!" Cub grinned, doing jazz hands at the enclosure, "I know what you might be thinking-"

Xisuma doubted that somehow.

"- 'Cub, Evil Xisuma hasn't done anything this season! They aren't a historic artefact! They shouldn't be in a museum!' But!" Cub wagged a finger triumphantly, "They are important to the history of Hermitcraft as a whole. So really, if you think about it, they definitely belong in a museum."

"… Okay?"

"Glad we're on the same page."

Xisuma wasn't sure if anyone was ever on the same page as Cub. Except maybe Scar.

"Now! As you can see, I've been decorating their enclosure, trying to add some interactive elements for guests and such." Cub pointed towards a line of redstone lamps at the top of Evil Xisuma's enclosure, "These show you how much electricity they're generating when they do their lightning hands thing. I'll be honest with you, it's broken a few times already so it's still a work in progress-"

"… Is that what all the lightning rods are for?" Xisuma frowned, eyeing the entirely lightning rod-ed ceiling.

"It is indeed!" Cub said, ignoring the twinge of concern in Xisuma's voice, "Well, a little. Mostly it's a safety thing, it wouldn't be good to have guests being electrocuted, now would it?"

"I suppose not… And it definitely works?"

"Oh yeah, it's been very thoroughly tested. Hey, Evil Xisuma," Cub walked up to the glass and tapped on it a few times, much to Xisuma's silent horror, "Wanna show X how the lightning rods work?"

In response, Evil Xisuma stuck their middle finger up at him and yelled something muffled to almost inaudibility that sounded a little like: "When I get out of here, I'm going to rip your head off and use it as a coffee mug, you stupid e-boy twink."

The pair on the other side of the glass blinked.

"… That's a no then." Cub turned back to Xisuma, "They do this a lot."

"They certainly do," Xisuma nodded faintly.

"You can probably tell the glass is uh... Mostly noise-cancelling, had to install that because Helsknight is in the next enclosure over and he's still hibernating. You know how Wels gets when you wake him up early, don't wanna find out how that guy is."

"… Of course," Xisuma sighed, pinching the nose bridge of his helmet, "Do I want to know how you got hold of those two?"

Cub laughed in the slightly unhinged way that gave Xisuma visions of Cub spending several weeks toying with the evil hermits as he hunted them for sport, "Nah man, it's not an interesting story."

Somehow, Xisuma doubted that.

"Anyway," Cub said, changing the topic before Xisuma could ask if he knew there was still someone's blood on his left sleeve, "What I really called you for is that I need an Evil Xisuma expert, and you're the man to ask about all things Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma, yes." Cub nodded sagely, "So. Obviously I wanna make sure everything is nice for our new residents, give them plenty of enrichment and all that, but it hasn't been working out so far."

"I can see that."

"Soo… Any suggestions? What kind of thing does Evil X like? Food? Blocks? I dunno, fake derpcoin or something?"

Xisuma hummed, tilting his head in thought as he gazed at Evil Xisuma, who had clambered out of the lava pool to press their hands against the glass and give Xisuma the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes their LED screen could muster (which, admittedly, were very sad and pathetic) in a silent plea to not leave them here with that madman, they'll be good for realsies this time they promise-

"Well," Xisuma said, turning to Cub, "They like to knit, so maybe they'd like some wool… Oh! And if you can find any old Wormman merch, they'll love that too."

Evil Xisuma's head hit the glass with a despairing thunk.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Christmas Star

!!There are spoilers in the warnings!!

Summary: On Christmas day, you had the realization you wanted to give your wife a gift that neither of you have talked about, a baby. In your eyes, Natasha was going to be a great mother and no matter what you had to go through you were going to give her, her Christmas gift.

Warning: birth, labor, contractions, miscarriage, c-section, blood lost, angst with fluff and a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.9k

You were standing on the porch of the Barton Homestead with a cup of coffee in your hands. It was lightly snowing as the Barton Kids and Kate and Yelena played in the yard. It was only 8 am, but you were exhausted. You and Natasha were up late with Clint and Laura to prepare for Christmas morning. Then Nathaniel woke up at 5 am. So, presents were unwrapped, breakfast was eaten, and the kids were dressed for the snow. It was a long day, but your heart was whole. You felt arms wrapped around your waist and leaned into her warmth. “I was looking for you, moya lyubov’.” She said, kissing your cheek. She played with the ring on your finger.

“Sorry, baby. I was watching them.” She hummed, burrowing her face in your neck. Her warm breath caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You and Natasha have been married for two years but together for 7. You weren’t an Avenger, a SHIELD agent, or a mutant. You were just an everyday citizen who happened to catch the eye of the Russian spy. You were a chief, and Tony Stark hired you and your team for a party. Right off the bat, Natasha started flirting with you, but you ignored her, focusing on doing a good job. Somehow, you woke up the following day with a text message from the Black Widow asking you out on a date. The rest was history. “Do you want kids?” You asked. Your wife’s arms tensed up. You spun around in her arms and ran your hands up and down her arms as a sign of comfort. “I know we haven’t talked about it.” The topic danced around as you knew Natasha couldn’t carry kids because of the Red Room. “But do you want them?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to watch the Barton kids. She sighed.

“Yeah, I’d love to be a mother.” She looked back at you. “But I can’t have them. We could adopt. I-”

“I can carry them.” You cut her off. She looked at you in disbelief. You grabbed her hands and rested them on your stomach.

“Are you serious about this?” She asked. You nodded.

“I haven’t been this serious about anything.” You chuckled. “Well, besides asking you to marry me.” Natasha had tears in her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I asked you to marry me.” You shrugged, put your arms around her neck, and played with the baby hairs that didn’t fit into her ponytail. “We are going to be parents.” She said, pulling you into a hug and lifting you off the ground. You laughed, shaking your head. She was going to be a great mother.

*

You were pacing the bathroom while waiting for your phone timer to go off. Natasha was in a meeting, and you timed it so you would get the test result by the time she returned. It had been a few weeks from Christmas at the Bartons. With help from Helen, Bruce, and Tony, they combined Natasha’s DNA with a few of your eggs so your child would both be yours. You were extremely anxious. You wanted to give this to Natasha more than anything. The sound of your phone timer going off made you jump. With shaky hands, you picked up the test, and tears immediately ran down your cheeks as you looked at the tiny plus sign. “Baby, where are you?” You heard your wife ask. You whipped away the tears.

“Bathroom.” You turned around as the door opened.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Natasha asked, closing the distance between you and her. Before you could respond, she picked up the test. “Positive.” She said, looking at you. You nodded. The Russian dropped the pregnancy test and picked you up. You laughed as she spun you around. Your wife put you down, knelt so she was at eye level with your stomach, and lifted your shirt. She kissed your stomach softly. Her sweet gesture made you cry harder. She looked up at you with tears in her eyes. “We are going to have a baby.” She said. You nodded, cupping her face with your hands.

“You are going to be a mom.” She turned her head to kiss your palms.

“So are you.”

*

There was nothing that could prepare you for the weird pregnancy cravings. No amount of books you’ve read or researched online. Pregnancy cravings were wild. So you were in the Avenger’s kitchen making a dough of sugar cookies to drizzle chocolate and hot sauce over the top. It was….different.

As your alarm went off to signify the cookies were done, you put on the oven mitts and opened the oven. Pulling out the cookie tray, you gasped as a sharp pain ran through your stomach, and you dropped the tray. The metal clashing against the ground made you jump, causing another acute pain. “Mrs. Romanoff, it appears you are in a sign of distress. Should I alert the medical team?” The AI asked.

“Yes, FRIDAY,” you gritted out as your teeth clenched. “Tell Natasha.”

“As you wish.”

*

Natasha ran to the med bay as soon as FRIDAY alerted her of your medical emergency, leaving her meeting with Steve and Maria without another word. Part of her wish was that she could make portals like Strange so she didn’t have to wait for the elevator. As the metal doors opened and she walked into the med bay, Yelena awaited her. She wasn’t sure who alerted her sister, but she was grateful she was there. “Where is she?” Natasha asked her sister. Yelena held up her hands to stop her.

“Cho and Banner are with her.” She said.

“Is she okay? Yelena, I need to see her.” Panic spread through her at how quiet her sister was. You had to be okay. No matter what, Natasha could not lose you. The sound of a door open caused her to spin around, and she watched as Bruce walked out, closing it gently behind her. The Black Widow ran over to the scientist. “Bruce, is she okay?” Natasha couldn’t pinpoint the emotion on the doctor’s face.

“She’s okay, Nat.” he sighed. “But she had a miscarriage.” A miscarriage?

“Okay,” she simply said. “Can I see her?” She heard her sister’s footsteps walking up to her.

“She lost the baby,” Yelena said slowly. “You understand that, right?” She nodded. Of course, she knew what a miscarriage was. Before Laura was pregnant with Nate, she had a miscarriage. She called Natasha in a panic but tried to enforce that she didn’t need Clint. The Black Widow told Clint right away.

“I know,” she nodded again. “And it’s-” there weren’t words to describe everything she felt. “Yeah, but I need to see her, please.” Bruce smiled.

“Helen is with her,” he said. “She hasn’t said much since we told her the news.” Natasha wished they waited to tell them together. She buried the emotions that threatened to take her over and walked into the room Bruce existed from. As the scientist said, Helen sat beside you in the empty chair. She stood up as Natasha walked over to the bed and smiled sadly.

“Please let me know if you need anything.” The Black Widow couldn’t find anything as she moved next to you. You were curled underneath the covers with silent tears running down your cheeks.

“Hi, sweetheart,” You made no indication that you heard her. “Baby,” You silently reached for her hand and pulled her into the bed with you. Natasha moved behind you and wrapped her arms around you. You turned around to press your face in her shirt. Your body shook with sobs. “Sh, sweet girl. You’re okay.” You shook your head.

“I’m sorry.” The two-word phrase took a lot of work to hear.

“Why are you sorry?” She asked, kissing the top of your head.

“I lost our baby,” Natasha shook her head. She let you cry against her, but as your cries turned to quiet hiccups, she lifted your head.

“This is not your fault, my love. These things happen.” Your lips started to tremble. “I can’t imagine the pain you are going through, but this isn’t your fault, and I will remind you every single day.” You burrowed your head into her shoulder.

“I wanted to make you a mom.” You said. Natasha closed her eyes as she felt her tears. You were breaking her heart.

“I know, moya lyubov’,” she whispered, running her hand through your hair. “And we’ll try again when you are ready, or we can figure out another option, okay?” She felt you nod. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Natty.”

*

“Natasha!” You called out. You were standing in the master bathroom, looking in the full-length mirror.

“Are you alright?” Your wife asked, barging into the bathroom. You looked behind you.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Natasha huffed, placing a hand on her heart.

“You,” she took a minute to catch her breath. “You are going to give me a heart attack.” You giggled, holding out her hand. She took it, and you pulled her close, her front pressed against your back. “What’s going on?” Instead of answering, you placed her hands on your stomach. She looked confused, but her face morphed into awe. “Is that?” She whispered. You nodded. Getting pregnant took three more tries, but now you are carrying twin girls.

“They are little gymnasts.” Natasha laughed, looking down at your stomach.

“Be kind to your mother, little ones.” You turned around to kiss her.

“I love you so much.” You said against her lips.

“Not as much as I love you.” You heard the pounding of footsteps entering your shared bedroom.

“You better not be making me another niece or nephew.” It was your only warning before the bathroom door opened, and Yelena walked in. “At least wait till they are born before you start trying to have another.” You felt your body heat up from embarrassment, burying your head into Natasha’s neck.

“Suka (bitch),” Natasha said. Yelena laughed.

“The party is starting soon. We are just waiting for the guest of honor.” You rolled your eyes, stepped away from your wife, and grabbed your sister-in-law’s hand. When you placed her hand on your stomach, the blonde looked at you confused. "Whoa," she said when she felt the baby’s kick. “That is so weird.” You giggled.

“This is your tetya (aunt) Yelena.” Your Russian could have been better, but with so many people in your life who spoke the language, you figured you should learn it. The blonde had tears in her eyes, but she forced them away.

“I can not wait to get you all the loud toys and fill you with sugar.” You rolled your eyes with a kind smile. “Ya vsegda budu zashcishchat tebya (I will always protect you).” She smiled, whipping away a tear, and left. Natasha stood beside you with an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“What did she say?” You asked. She smiled, shaking her head.

“Nothing bad, I promise. Come on, let’s go to this baby shower.”

*

Christmas Eve

You couldn’t find the hat you wanted, which generally wouldn’t be a big deal, but at seven months pregnant, your emotions and hormones were all over the place. “Dorogoy, we are going to be late,” Natasha said.

“I can’t find my hat.” You pouted. Natasha was an angel throughout this entire pregnancy. She dealt with every pregnancy craving, morning sickness, and mood swing. You couldn’t have done it without her. She smiled at the pout on your face.

“And what hat is that?” She asked.

“The one Lila made me for my birthday. I wanted to wear it because she’ll be at the party.” You explained.

“I think she’ll understand. Come on, krasivyy (beautiful), we will be late.” You rolled your eyes. The party was at the compound, and since you lived on the property of the compound, it was a 5-minute drive. The house was a gift from Tony and Pepper when you announced you were pregnant. It was far enough from the compound to have a sense of privacy but close enough if Natasha had to be pulled away for Avenger duty.

“Can you go check my closet one more time for me?” You asked, putting on your best puppy dog eyes. Your wife huffed, rolling her own eyes.

“I will go look.” You smiled, standing up and kissing her.

“You are the best.” She kissed your forehead.

“Make sure you grab your coat, okay?” You nodded, walking to the front door as Natasha approached your shared bedroom. You opened the coat closet and grabbed your winter jacket. You heard a pop and felt pressure in your pelvic area. The black leggings you wore felt wet as if you went to the bathroom. You gasped, placing your hands on your stomach.

“I found it,” Natasha said, rounding the corner. You looked at your wife as she had the crochet hat in her hand.

“My water just broke.” You said. She stared at you blankly. You’ve never seen her so speechless. You groaned at the first contraction. “Natalia!” Her name snapped her out of her trance. She dropped your hat and grabbed your pregnancy bag in the same closet. You held onto her hand. “It’s too soon.” You said, squeezing her hand. “I can’t go into labor. I can’t.”

“Sh, dorogoy. We are going to call Helen on the way.” You nodded as Natasha helped you exit the house and into the car.

*

Natasha kept herself calm. She needed to because she knew if she freaked out, you would freak out. FRIDAY alerted the doctor and was already at the compound due to the Christmas party. You held onto her hand tightly each time a concentration passed. “Are you okay?” She cringed at the question. “Forget I asked that. That was stupid.” Of course, you weren’t doing okay. You chuckled, wincing as another contraction came through.

“It’s fine,” you said and rubbed your swollen belly. “You know I love you, right? Because I’m not sure I want to go through this again.” Natasha laughed, squeezing your hand.

“One way to kick off the holiday season.”

*

Helen opened up the passenger door and helped you into the wheelchair. “Well, isn’t this a Christmas surprise,” the doctor smiled and put a blanket over your lap. “They sure know how to make an entrance.” She began to push you towards the door to the med bay.

“They get that from you,” you said to Natasha over your shoulder. The Black Widow shook her head. You saw the worried edge on her forehead. She hated any time you were in pain or sick. The doors opened as Helen and Yelena, Wanda, and Laura got closer. The blonde Black Widow smirked.

“You know I was looking forward to getting drunk off of Stark’s expensive liquor,” you smiled, winching as another painful concentration passed through. The smile on your sister-in-law’s face fell.

“There may still be time for that,” Laura said. “Just because she’s having concentrations doesn’t mean the babies are ready,” the small group followed Helen to a room. “It may be a while.” The mother of three hugged you. Oh, you hoped it wouldn’t take forever.

“We’ll be waiting outside,” Wanda hugged you. Yelena placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m excited to get my drinking partner back.” You smiled.

“Alright,” Helen said. “Let’s get you all set up.”

“And on some pain medication.”

*

“You’re doing great, detka,” Natasha said, rubbing a spot on your lower back that was killing you. “Just keep breathing.” You groaned, hands grabbing the blankets that covered you on the hospital bed.

“Natasha, darling,” you said. “If you tell me to breathe one more time, I’m gonna punch you.” The hand on your back stuttered but never stopped its movement. Yelena laughed, shaking her head at your comment. She never stopped playing a game on her phone that Cooper and Kate got her addicted to.

“Your wife is funny,” she chuckled. The door opened, and Helen walked in, followed by a nurse. Her name was Heather, you liked her.

“Alright,” Helen put on a pair of gloves. “Let’s see how we are doing.” You heard Yelena stand up.

“That is my cue to exist,” she said. “I hope Wanda brought back some good food.” She left the room. Natasha chuckled, kissing the top of your head. Heather walked over to check your vitals with a clipboard in hand. You needed to figure out what Helen was saying. Your head began to feel light and fuzzy. The sound in the room turned to white noise, like in a Charlie Brown episode when the adults would speak. Your head fell against Natasha.

“Dr. Cho, the heart rate of mom and the babies are dropping,” Heather said. You felt Natasha tense up.

“What-?” Helen moved next to you and rested your head on the pillow, then shone a light into your eyes.

“Heather, prepare the team. We need to do an emergency c-section. Take Natasha out of the room.” What? No. You wanted her to say. Please don’t take her away.

*

Natasha felt the nurse grab her arm, but she shrugged her off. “Helen, what is happening?” The doctor looked at her.

“Nat, I need you to leave to save your wife.” Save her wife? Save her wife? What was happening?

“The-the babies,” you stuttered, your eyes couldn’t focus. Natasha leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“Don’t leave me, dorogoy,” she whispered, leaving with Heather. The door closed in front of her.

“Nat,” she heard her name but couldn’t pull her eyes away from the door. “What happened?”

“Her uh and the uh twins heart rate started to drop,” Natasha explained. “She needs an emergency c-section.”

“Jesus,” Yelena mumbled.

“Hey,” Laura grabbed her hand and led her to a chair. Her legs collapsed immediately, and she fell into the chair. “C-sections are pretty common these days, especially with twins.” Wanda sat down next to her in the empty chair.

“She’s in the best care,” the witch added. “Helen will take care of her.”

“I can’t lose her,” Natasha admitted. Yelena knelt in front of her sister.

“And you won’t. She is strong. She and the twins will come back to you.”

*

“Will you stop pacing?” Yelena snapped at Clint. Kate squeezed her hand to keep her calm. The older archer kept pacing, not bothered by the blonde’s threat. As soon as word got out regarding your condition, the party was called off, and the hallway was filled with the rest of the team. Some came and went, but Natasha paid little attention to any of them. Her green eyes trained on the tile floor as she played with her wedding ring.

There was too much time passing. Does this surgery usually take this long? If there were a problem, they would have notified her. Right? Natasha hated feeling this useless. She heard Yelena stand next to her, and the blonde gave her a lap on the back of her head to get her attention. Looking up, she saw Helen.

“Congratulations, Natasha,” the doctor smiled. “You have two beautiful baby girls.” Everyone let out a sigh of relief, but Natasha waited. She was happy they were healthy but needed to know about you. “Your wife lost a lot of blood, but she’ll pull through,” Helen answered the Black Widow’s unanswered question. “We’ve sedated her to help her body recover, but once they wear off, she will wake up.” Natasha sighed; a weight that rested on her chest was gone.

“Can I see them?” Natasha asked. Helen nodded. The Black Widow stood up and silently asked Yelena and Laura to join her. When she entered your room, she saw two bassinets with her daughters, but she made a beeline for you. You were so still and pale for her liking. The only reassurance she had was the beeping of the machines you were hooked up to. Gently, she ran her hand over the top of her hand.

“They’re so small,” Yelena whispered. “Are they supposed to be that small?” Laura hummed.

“It’s because they are premature,” Laura spoke softly. “They’ll get bigger over time. Nat,” The Black Widow looked away from you. “You should be the first one to hold them.”

“Me?” She slowly joined the duo and saw her daughters for the first time. They were a perfect blend of you and her. “I can’t. I don’t-”

“Yes, you can,” Yelena said. “You are their mama,” she’s held a baby before, and that wasn’t the problem. She imagined the first she kept her daughters; you would be healthy enough to witness it. Sighing, she carefully picked up the tiny baby with your hair color. She supported her head and held her close to her chest. Natasha let out a breathless laugh, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

“You’re a natural,” Laura praised. Yelena leaned against Natasha’s arm to look at her niece.

“I can’t believe you made something this cute,” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Thank you both,” she said. “Can you give me a minute alone?” They both told her to get them if she needed anything. When alone, she moved the bassinet over to you and sat in the empty chair. She sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the machines.

“Hi, little ones,” she softly spoke. “I’m your mama. Your mommy did such a great job protecting you, and now she’s resting,” she explained. “Now it’s my turn.”

*

Soft singing woke you up, but you kept your eyes closed. You knew it was your wife’s voice. It was rare you caught her singing. Sometimes, it was humming a simple tone or singing the words to a popular song on the radio you cherished each time you saw her. She would become flustered, cheeks as red as her hair. The song was in Russian. The fog that was over your brain was allowing a few words in. Slowly, you opened your eyes and turned your head towards the sound. Natasha was so invested in the tiny baby in her arms with hair that matched your own color that she didn’t notice you were awake. “Hi, my love,” you made your presence known. The singing stopped. “Are they okay?” Natasha stared at you, blinking a few times as if her brain wasn’t processing that you were awake.

“They are perfect,” Natasha said. “You are perfect.” You sat up, winching slightly. “Take it easy, data.”

“Can I hold her?” You asked, holding out your arms. Natasha stood up without hesitation and put your daughter in your arms. Once she was secure, Natasha picked up her sister and sat on the edge of your bed. “My girls,” you whispered, your vision blurring with tears. “My beautiful tears.”

“You scared me,” Natasha admitted and kissed the top of your head. “You gave me two healthy daughters, but it wouldn’t have mattered if you weren’t here to see it.” You leaned your head back and kissed her, savoring the feeling of her lips against yours.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “Has the team met them?” Your wife shook her head.

“Only Yelena and Laura,” she said. “I was waiting for you.” You smiled and looked at your daughters.

“You have so many people that love you already, little ones. They will protect you, spoil you, and hopefully babysit when your mama and I need a break,” Natasha chuckled. “Our little Christmas stars.”

“Merry Christmas, Elena, and Gabby Romanoff.”

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] —𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

summary: Jackie and you become closer and she takes it as a challenge to make you fall for her charms.

warning/s: none.

author’s note: part 2 is finally here, sorry for the delay! i’ve had a migraine all day otherwise i would’ve posted this earlier 😅 hope you like it!

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

A month passed and any reminder of my conflict with Leroy and Tiffany had faded into oblivion. Jackie was correct in assuming they'd drop their beef with me, and once my hand was healed and Jackie's face no longer looked like an overly inflated balloon, there was nothing left to remind me of the incidents that occurred.

The only thing to come out of the whole experience was being a little more than acquaintances with Jackie. I couldn't go as far as saying we were friends, but she definitely felt the need to greet me more whenever she saw me in class, and I didn't mind returning the favour.

The real shift in our relationship began when Van, Jackie, Shauna and I were grouped up for a History class project. It was a presentation we needed to pull together, so we'd all made plans to meet up to discuss everything over coffee, which is how I found myself driving there with Van in my new car.

"You know you're gonna have to take me everywhere now," Van pointed out from the passenger seat with a grin. "I'm gonna be your passenger princess."

I laughed. "Hey, I don't mind. It's a bit of a rust bucket, but it beats skateboarding everywhere." I paused, then added, "Who am I kidding? I'm gonna miss skateboarding everywhere."

"We can still hit up the skate park every now and then," she promised. "But driving is a lot easier, you can't lie."

I smiled in agreement. After using some of my savings and convincing my parents it was time to get a car, they bought me an old, second-hand banger from one of my dad's friends who owned a garage. It wasn't the best looking car, but after a wash and a little bit of sprucing up with some car accessories, it looked decent enough to serve its purpose.

Conveniently, I pulled up at the coffee shop at the same time as Shauna, who was parking a few spots down. When Van and I jumped out the car with our bags, Jackie and Shauna were already approaching us.

"Hey," Shauna greeted us both with a smile, before nodding with approval at my car. "Love the new ride, Y/L/N."

"Thanks," I said with proud smile.

"You got to the part where you have to fill the tyres with air?" she asked with amusement. "It's so awkward when everyone watches you do it."

I snorted with amusement. "I'll be lucky if I get that far. This thing is trying its best right now."

She chuckled and glanced over it once more. "It's still pretty nice. Gets you from A to B, right? Driving saves so much time, trust me."

"Very true," I agreed, before I noticed Jackie checking it out curiously, having greeted Van already. I quirked a brow as I jokingly asked, "What? Not up to the princess' standards?"

Van and Shauna exchanged amused glances whilst Jackie shot me a playful glare.

"That's not what I was thinking," she said matter-of-factly.

I stopped by her side to look at it like she was, giving her a sideways glance. "I was kidding. Kind of."

She gave me a knowing look. "It's nice."

I tried not to laugh as I said, "Thank you."

She rolled her eyes playfully before the four of us headed inside to find a table. After claiming a booth in the corner, we pulled out our supplies and textbooks to get started.

"I'll go order our drinks," I offered, before we got stuck in. "Everybody know what they want?"

After they shared their orders with me, I slid out the booth to get in the queue, but Jackie slid out alongside me.

"You might need more hands to carry it," she said, when I quirked a brow.

I shrugged and the two of us got in line to order. It didn't take long to reach the front, and after giving the barista our order and paying, Jackie decided she wanted a muffin that was on display.

"Shoot, I'm so sorry to be annoying," she said with her signature smile, albeit a little apologetic, as she pointed to the muffin. "Please can we get that too?"

The guy, probably no older than we were, nodded eagerly and got the muffin for her, placing it on the tray. "Of course. It's on the house."

I resisted the urge to smile as I raised an eyebrow, watching Jackie laugh flirtatiously.

"No! Really?" she asked with bright eyes. "You're too sweet!"

The guy shrugged casually, his cheeks turning pink as she gave him all her attention in this moment. Before we knew it, our drinks were added to the tray and I picked it up to leave.

"Thanks again," she said with a tilt of her head and a matching smile.

He watched her leave distractedly, and only when we were walking away did I let out a quiet chuckle at what I'd just witnessed.

"What?" she asked, glancing at me, as if she didn't know what she'd done.

I gave her a look of disbelief. "Seriously?" Her confused expression forced me to continue. "You just bat your eyes and get what you want?"

She looked up thoughtfully before nodding. "Pretty much."

Breathing out through my nose, I shook my head with amazement. It made sense that even strangers fell victim to the Jackie Taylor effect.

"Can you get some napkins?" she asked, flashing me the same smile she gave the barista, but I would be damned if she thought she could fool me.

"Not a chance," I said with a stifled laugh, equally amused by her frown as I was her audacity.

I returned to the booth as she went to grab some napkins for us, and the four of us got stuck in immediately. As well as getting the base of our presentation researched, we also had a nice bonding session. To be fair, Van already knew Jackie and Shauna well, but I enjoyed getting to know them too.

I especially learnt that Jackie was pretty used to getting what she wanted whenever she wanted, and having people fall head over heels for her. This was something that came to light the more time we spent together working on this project. I guess you could say that the project is what intertwined our lives again once more.

—

After yet another studying session with Jackie, Shauna and Van in the library last night, I realised I grabbed Jackie's notebook by accident and planned to return it to her the next morning at school. I found her by her locker, but she was in a conversation with Jeff and I debated whether or not to interrupt.

They weren't together, the two of them surprisingly staying broken up unlike the many other times they'd somehow got back together, so it was odd to see them talking. But it wasn't any of my business, even if I was a little curious to whether they were back together – especially after everything that happened – so I just sucked it up and politely interrupted.

When I stopped by their side awkwardly, their conversation fell quiet and Jeff glanced at me, no doubt thinking of the whole Leroy incident. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Jackie and I alone.

"Sorry," I said to her uncomfortably, before holding out her notebook. "I just wanted to give you this."

"Oh, thanks," she said, blinking, before accepting the notebook. "I was looking for this all morning."

"Yeah, I must've grabbed it by accident," I said with a small smile. "My bad."

She nodded, and I was about to leave, but then she met my eyes and said, "That wasn't–"

She'd stopped, so I prodded, "Wasn't...?"

Uneasily, she explained, "He's been trying to get back together with me. Jeff."

I chewed on my lip, unsure what to respond, because she didn't owe me any kind of explanation. But a small part of me was nosy enough to want it.

"I'm not stupid, obviously," she continued.

"Obviously," I repeated in agreement, otherwise stumped for words.

"But yeah," she finished, a small, awkward smile on her lips. "That's it."

I mirrored her smile, nodding. "Awesome... er, thanks for the update."

She cleared her throat, nodding too, and then an uncomfortable silence filled the air. I was relieved, though I would never admit it, to know that she wasn't considering going back to him. It only reaffirmed all she'd said about listening to me, and it showed that she respected whatever friendship we seemed to share.

"I'll see you in class," I said, straightening up.

She relaxed her shoulders. "Yeah. See you."

—

Shortly after finishing our group assignment together, Jackie felt the need to work with me more often, for whatever reason. She had a lot of friends, so I couldn't see why she needed me in the mix also, but I guess I wasn't totally against it.

I was walking into Chemistry class when I spotted the blonde sat where my usual lab partner, Dennis, sat. Getting a sense of deja vu, I watched her questioningly as I set my stuff down in my seat.

"Is there a particular reason you're sat there?" I asked, when she flashed me a nonchalant smile.

Placing her chin in the palm of her hand, she stared at me through her lashes. "I feel like you don't know me well enough. So, I switched partners."

I resisted the urge to laugh, oddly intrigued by whatever game she was playing. "I mean, we've only been in the same classes all our life, but–"

"It's not the same," she insisted with a wave of her hand, making me laugh.

Not caring enough to be opposed to her trading seats with Dennis, I took a seat beside her and began to get my books out. As I did, our teacher, Mr Turner, approached our table with a stern expression.

"Miss Taylor," he addressed her. "Can I ask why you're not sitting in your assigned seat?"

I watched on with amusement, wondering how she'd get herself out of this one. But if she was sweating in the slightest, it didn't show.

Shooting Mr Turner her signature smile, she said, "I'm sorry, Mr Turner. I was just about to come and ask you permission. I thought moving beside Y/N here would help improve my grade and be less of a distraction than my old partner."

I quirked a brow, glancing between him and her, and watched as his expression softened slightly. Holy shit. The Jackie Taylor effect worked on teachers too?

"Very well," he conceded. "I suppose that's alright, if it's for the betterment of your learning. Just don't let me catch you chatting through my teaching, alright?"

She nodded innocently. "Of course. I'd never disrespect you like that."

My mouth opened slightly with disbelief, her pure arse kissing astounding me. Mr Turner nodded appreciatively before returning to the front of the classroom, and Jackie turned to me with a cheeky smile.

"I'm impressed," I admitted. "Everybody really loves you, huh?"

As she grabbed her book, she shrugged, though gave me a sideways glance as if she was pouting. "Almost everyone."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "C'mon, Jackie. You have the whole school– heck, probably the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you so adamant on making me like you?"

She raised her brows impatiently. "Because I'm likeable!"

The pink tinge on her cheeks, darkening her already-existent blusher, paired with her impatience only served to make me grin. If I'd known treating Jackie Taylor like this would get her so flustered, I would have done it more often. It was definitely entertaining, and she was going through more effort than she needed to, which only made me laugh more.

As amusing as it was though, I knew she'd give up soon. I simply refused to let myself slip under the Jackie Taylor spell that she had over everyone – doing whatever she wanted, treating her like she was god's gift, there at her beck and call... Unlike every other poor soul who genuinely believed they had a chance with her, no doubt because she had a power to make you feel that way, I wasn't naive. Jackie Taylor was out of my league, as a friend or anything more.

I wasn't blind. Her powers of seduction were rooted in her beauty and ability to turn heads wherever she went. It was normal to have a tiny crush on her, I was sure of it, but I'd never let it be more than that.

Of course, there were small micro-moments where I'd let myself indulge for once, to be a little selfish and delirious. Like now, as she sat beside me in class, nodding along to what Mr Turner was explaining. From the corner of my eye, it was easy to make out the perfect curve of her jaw, the glossiness of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes. And it would have been even easier to give into it all, especially when she asked me to grab her a lab coat from the back of the classroom, a soft smile on her lips and a single bat of her eyelashes.

But all it took was one relinquishment of power and I'd be just another fool who let Jackie Taylor create delusion in their heads. And I refused.

"I don't know what the arrangement between you and your last partner was, but here, you do things yourself," I said with a suppressed smile, appreciating the way her face dropped.

She tensed her jaw slightly, before trailing along behind me to grab a lab coat. After suiting up, we returned to our desk and I got out the lab equipment whilst she read over the worksheet we'd been given.

"Okay, first step is to turn on the bunsen burner," she read aloud, glancing at me expectantly.

"Great." I pushed over the bunsen burner to her. "Go on."

Indifferently, she straightened up and began to connect the hose to the bunsen burner, shooting me a knowing look as she connected the whole thing to the gas tap.

"I know how to do things myself, y'know," she said disapprovingly.

I chuckled. "I know, it's just fun watching you actually do it."

She huffed dramatically before twisting the gas tap without warning, making me jump back quickly as the flame lit up. Her eyes widened as she twisted it off, before falling to me with both concern and amusement.

"Shit, are you okay?" she asked, hand covering her mouth, but a smile was threatening to break out.

I released a breath, touching my shirt which almost set on fire, and shot her a look. "I am, yeah. No thanks to you!"

She began to laugh quietly. "I'm sorry. See? If you'd just done it for us, that wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, if I'd just done it for us?" I asked sarcastically, mimicking her voice.

"Yeah, you should've just listened–" she started, eyes darting between mine with entertainment.

"I should've just listened," I agreed, still as sarky as ever.

"Yes," she agreed between laughter.

I sighed, giving into my smile as she watched me with dismay. This was going to be a long lesson.

—

As much as I hated to admit it, I was enjoying having Jackie as my lab partner, looking forward to the hour lesson where she was as careless as ever when it came to our experiments, but to the satisfaction and humour of me. Of course, she could never know that all of her efforts to sway me were working, so I played it cool.

I definitely didn't expect to see her beyond that, so I was especially surprised when I showed up to the local community centre after school with the intention of improving my college application and saw her waiting outside with a few other students. I did a double take, her face being the last I expected to see.

"Hey," she said when she recognised me, moving to stand beside me with her usual blinding smile.

"Are you stalking me, Taylor?" I asked jokingly.

"You wish," she retorted with a playful eye roll. "I'm here because it looks good for my college application."

"Ah, of course."

She lifted a brow. "You?"

"Same," I admitted sheepishly, making her laugh.

Once the other students turned up, there were thirteen of us in total and the manager of the community centre met us outside to brief us. We were to work on the community garden over the coming weeks, helping to clean it up and plant some fresh produce and flowers to brighten up the place. Only once it was complete would we get a certificate of recognition for our efforts.

We got stuck in straight away, everyone assigned to different areas. Jackie and I were working on planting the flower beds, so the first thing to do was bring over the soil to the designated area. I heaved the giant bag of soil over my shoulder and brought it over, dropping it to the ground with a sigh and wiping the sweat from my head.

Giggling made me look up, and I watched as Jackie got some freshman to grab her bag, twirling her hair and fluttering her eyelashes as he dropped the bag beside mine.

"You're too sweet, Johnny," she said with a classic tilt of her head, touching his arm. "Thanks again."

He shrugged casually, clearly affected by her attention. "Anytime. You need a hand with anything else, just let me know."

She nodded in agreement and watched as he walked away before her eyes found mine.

"What?" she said like it was obvious. "It would've gotten my nails dirty."

I glanced down at the soil staining my shirt, before giving her a knowing look. "Wait until you start to plant the seeds."

Kneeling down, I used the spade provided to dig out the old dead plants from the flower beds. She kneeled down beside me, careful not to dirty her skirt as she did, and watched my hands work.

"I'm curious," I said, glancing at her. "Were you planning to help at all?"

She straightened up with a sense of pride. "Of course." And then reluctantly, she used her hands to help me remove the old plants, but not without pulling a face.

I tried not to laugh as I watched, finding a sense of satisfaction as her fingernails did indeed get stained with soil. Working alongside her, I used the spade to dig out the next plant, but it skidded across the soil, the plant too firm, and I ended up flicking a handful of soil at Jackie.

"Oh, shit," I said with a stifled smile, watching as she looked down at her clothes. "Sorry."

She breathed out slowly and dusted the soil off, but it left dark tracks in its midst. "It's fine."

"Good thing you wore your old clothes, right?" I asked, biting my lip to contain my smile.

She hummed in agreement, jaw tensing slightly, and a grin fell upon my lips. Everything she wore looked too nice to be considered old. Poor Jackie was probably not expecting to lift a finger.

For whatever reason, whether it was to prove me wrong or to prove her own point, she actually helped me with our tasks, no longer using freshmen to get everything done. It was fun, working with her, and it only gave me more time to appreciate spending with her.

Once we'd done our assigned two hours, it was finally time to leave for the day, and Jackie and I walked out together. Parked a few cars down from mine was Shauna's, and I gave Jackie a look of disbelief.

"You made Shauna pick you up?"

"Duh," she said with a shrug.

I breathed out slowly, looking up and shaking my head. "Why do I still get surprised?"

"What? That people love me?" she asked with a teasing voice.

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes, lips pressing into a smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Until then, see you tomorrow."

I waved goodbye to her as she kept walking, trying to understand the hold she had on everyone. Her and her silly smiles and silly hazel eyes and silly raspy voice.

Annoyingly enough, I was starting to see it.

—

I found myself in Chemistry class later that week, doodling on my notebook as I waited for class to properly start. Jackie arrived as usual, greeting me, and when I looked up, I took a moment to find my words.

"You look different," I said without thinking, trying to figure it out.

"I'm pretty sure I don't," she said with a chuckle, sitting beside me like always.

But no, there was something different about her today, something that had me admiring her a little more closely than usual. And as I was subtly studying the freckles on her face, the slope of her nose, the golden flecks in her eyes, it hit me.

"Your hair," I said with realisation, making her look up. "It's up. You never have it up."

She lifted a brow with amusement. "I guess, maybe not often, but..."

She'd worn her hair up before, obviously, but her signature look was to leave it out, freshly curled. So, seeing her with it up just happened to draw my attention more, and also show off her pretty face a bit more, which I guess is why I noticed.

Satisfied that I'd figured it out, I nodded. "Yeah, that's it. It looks pretty like that."

Her lips curved into a soft smile, eyes darting away from mine in an uncharacteristic manner. "Er, thanks."

I didn't think much more of it as I returned to my doodling, but then from that day onwards, I noticed she began to wear her hair up more often. And every single time, I found myself admiring her secretly, letting myself indulge just that little bit more.

—

Promising to pick up Van from soccer practice today, I headed to the field to wait in the bleachers for her, having killed time studying all I could before my brain would fry itself. I was a little early, so the Yellowjackets were still practicing.

I took that as my opportunity to get comfortable at the bottom of the bleachers, feet leaning on the ones in front of me as I pulled my headphones on and focused on my book. I was deep into it when something hit me and I jumped, startled.

Yanking my headphones off, I looked down to see a bottle cap, and then looked up to see a laughing Jackie stood by the bench on the field, bottle of water in hand.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, before tossing the cap back at her, which she swiftly dodged.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with a grin.

Admittedly, she looked really cute right now, dressed in the school gym kit, a little sweaty and her face flushed pink from all the running she'd done. But I would never give her that satisfaction, so sarcasm was my next best defence.

"Oh, I just had to come and see Jackie Taylor in all of her team captain glory."

She raised her brows, pausing. "Really?"

"No. I'm here to pick Van up."

She scoffed gently, rolling her eyes.

"As much as your many admirers would love to watch you practice, I'm not one of them," I teased.

"Hilarious," she said with narrowed eyes, making me grin. Dismissing my mockery, she asked, "Are you coming to the pep rally tomorrow? First game of the season is this week."

I leaned back, thinking about it. "Eh, why not?"

Hand on her hip, she shot me a disapproving smile. "Don't sound too enthusiastic or anything."

I crossed my legs comfortably as I met her challenging stare. "I'm not big on the whole soccer thing. I'm just going to support Van. That's what a good friend would do."

She began to smile, a glint of amusement in her gaze. "A good friend, huh? Pat yourself on the back much?"

"Someone has to."

She looked away with disbelief, hiding a smile. "Wow, I see."

I quirked a brow, smile forming on my lips. "See how annoying that is? That's what it's like having a conversation with you."

She pursed her lips as she looked over me with feigned irritation. "Touché, Y/N."

I flashed her a satisfied smile as she finished the last of her water before flipping me off then jogging back to the others. I chuckled to myself as I watched her leave, admittedly checking her out as I did. Stupid Jackie and her stupid cute face.

—

We were well into October when it happened. I couldn't have seen it coming in the slightest.

Lottie, one of Van's teammates, was hosting the ultimate Halloween party at her mansion of her house, able to get away with it because her parents were away. Everybody was attending, and if Van herself didn't invite me, at least ten other people had because of how awesome it was supposed to be. Naturally, I said yes, loving a party more than anyone else but especially a costume party.

So, I showed up with Van and Taissa, the latter opting for a Catwoman costume that she very much pulled off, and Van and I dressing up as two of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – her as Michelangelo and myself as Leonardo. They were iconic outfits, what could I say?

Of course, I may have felt a little stupid when we met up with the rest of Van's team, including Jackie who looked drool-worthy in her Supergirl costume.

"Wow, you two look...," she began when she saw Van and I, eyes flickering between our matching costumes. "It's very you."

Van swung her nunchucks in agreement. "I thought so too. Love the sexy Supergirl getup."

Jackie stifled a smile as she nodded in acknowledgement, before her eyes fell to me. "Which one are you? Raphael?"

I pointed to the blue bandana over my eyes. "Leonardo, obviously."

A grin broke out on her lips as she touched the bandana, pulling it over my eyes a bit better and also sending goosebumps all over my skin at her touch. "Obviously."

I swallowed thickly, trying not to let my eyes drift below her head, because her costume was very tight and she looked very good right now.

"Nat's pouring everyone drinks in the kitchen," she said, looking between the three of us. "You coming?"

"Hell yeah," Van spoke for us all, raising her nunchucks in the air, before glancing back at Taissa and I. "Leonardo and Catwoman, on my six!"

I cracked a smile as I readied my sword and followed after my idiot best friend. 

It was admittedly an eventful first few hours, with Van and I stressing Taissa out enough times that she was forced to take our pretend weapons off us for the rest of the party. Apparently assuming the personas of our costumes wasn't going down well with her, which, in hindsight, was fair when I remembered how drunk we got.

At one point, I found myself rambling to some random guy about the lore of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, aware that he was passed out on the couch beside me but still talking anyway, when Jackie strolled over to me, just as drunk as I was.

"There you are," she said with a grin. "Come dance with me."

"Jackie, I'm in the middle of a conversation," I said, motioning to my passed out friend.

"He's asleep, idiot," she pointed out, before outstretching her hand and wiggling it. "Come on."

I batted her hand away. "I don't dance."

She lost her smile as her patience ran quicker now that her inhibitions were lowered. "Y/N."

Finding it amusing, I motioned around us. "There's a billion people here. One of them would kill to dance with you. Why not ask them?"

"I'm asking you," she said through gritted teeth.

Not really aware of her anger, I pushed myself off the couch with a stretch. "I'm hungry."

She glared at me as I walked away, pushing through the party-goers and intending to find the kitchen, but Lottie's house was huge and I'd already forgotten the layout. I opened several wrong doors, and then on the last one – some sort of games room – I felt someone shove me from behind, forcing me in.

"Hey–!"

"Why does nothing work with you?!" Jackie interrupted my complaining, shutting the door behind her and fixing me with a frustrated stare.

I blinked, confused.

She scoffed, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "I've been trying to get your attention for months, you idiot! I even started–" she faltered, embarrassed, "wearing my hair up because of one stupid compliment you gave me."

My brain was working slower than usual, so her words were catching up to me little by little. "I noticed that."

Still not happy, she narrowed her eyes at me. "Why do I even try?"

Realising this was about the Jackie Taylor effect, as I'd rightly dubbed it now, I said, "Everybody loves you. Why is it so important if I don't?"

Her eyes flickered between mine, and I was certain she was going to slap me or berate me or shout at me. But then her expression softened and she admitted, "Because I want you to."

I didn't get chance to register her words before she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine. Her fingers curled around the back of my neck and I found myself melting under her touch, falling right into her. Her lips tasted like alcohol, tobacco and strawberry lipgloss, and I was suddenly eager to taste her concoction even more, all my senses heightened as I pulled her close.

She moved her lips against mine eagerly, fingers sending shivers down my spine as they tickled my skin, and I pushed my tongue between her lips in retaliation, not even thinking about anything other than her. We broke apart for air, barely seconds passing before our lips reconnected, and I was infatuated with every part of the blonde that had been on my mind these past few months.

Time was a drunken haze – we could have been there for seconds or hours for all I knew – and we were unfortunately interrupted by the sound of the door suddenly opening. Our sloppy movements meant we pulled apart a second too late, and we turned to see Van standing there in her Michelangelo costume. God, did I look that stupid right now?

"You're both trashed," she said, words slurred, before she looked to me. "C'mon. Catwoman is taking us home." Then she looked to Jackie, adding, "Shauna's looking for you."

I glanced at Jackie, heart still racing and her taste still on my lips. The state I was in made everything feel like it was so distant, as if it was happening to someone else, so I still hadn't truly acknowledged what had just happened between us. Jackie was already looking at me, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed. I almost wanted to kiss her again, but Van impatiently calling my name snapped me out of it.

"Coming," I told her, before tearing my eyes from Jackie and following after Van.