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iluvmattsbeard · 1 month

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Wet Dreamz (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut and swearing

preview: matt and you were partners for a project. he unexpectedly started having sinful dreams about you, suddenly craving you ever since. one thing nobody knew; he was a virgin.

“y/n, you will be partnered with Matt.” the teacher says trying to grab your attention. “y/n? are you listening?” you snap out of your thoughts and look at him. “huh?” you ask. “you’re partnered with Matt for this project.” he replies with an unamused look. you look around before you look back at him. “who’s that?” you ask.

he lets out a sigh before speaking, “Matt raise your hand.” you look around again as you catch the eyes of a brown haired boy. you weren’t mad about it. he looked decent.

you get up and walk to where he was sitting. “next time y/n, i expect you to be paying attention. this project will effect your grade drastically if you do poorly.” you hear the teacher say looking at you. all you do is nod. you were barely passing the class.

Matt’s POV

i got paired with y/n. she didn’t even know who i was. i knew of her because she would get in trouble constantly due to her lack of focus. as she came to sit next to me, we clicked right away. we both dreaded school, but who doesn’t? as much as i didn’t like school, i still paid attention, unlike her, so i had to explain the whole point of the project to her.

we exchanged numbers after class so that we could talk about when we could meet up to work on it. we only had two weeks to complete it. i knew i had to stand on top of it because i know she won’t.

a few days pass, me and y/n still working on the project together, with us having to meet at lunch. i got to know a little bit more about her. she was pretty cool to talk to. we even started texting without talking about the project itself. so when this is done, it’d be cool to hang with her.

meeting during lunch really wasn’t a good idea. there was too much distractions. so i took the opportunity to invite her over to my place after school. she agreed and i ended up driving her with me once the final bell rang.

End of Matt’s POV

you and Matt were in his room as you sat on the floor. you were reading over some information from the website the teacher recommended and you were feeling overwhelmed. “all of this is hurting my head.” you say laying back on the floor. Matt lets out a small laugh as he responds, “me too. i don’t get how this will be beneficial in the future.” you shot up looking at him, “exactly! school is so bullshit to me. they don’t even teach real world shit.” you say sighing. “i agree. but i didn’t put up with almost 12 years of school just to fail.” he says. you groan, “right. it would be wasteful. i’m pretty sure you don’t have anything to worry about. my grades are literally on the edge of failing.” “well, i could help you.” he suggests. all you do is let out a laugh, “trust me, teaching me is hard.”

“i’ve been teaching you these past days. trust me i know.” Matt responds as you both let out a laugh. “it’s hot in here.” you say taking off your hoodie, pulling down your shirt as it lifted a bit. Matt looks at you as he catches a glimpse of your cleavage. he looks away quickly, clearing his throat. where has all of that been hiding? he wonders. “well let’s continue working on this.” he says trying to move past it. all you do is nod as you lay on your stomach continuously reading.

when you weren’t paying attention, Matt would stare at you slightly. he would stare at the way your tits were pressed against the floor, thinking how perfect they were.

after a few hours, Matt takes you home. “thank you for the ride.” you say smiling, slinging your backpack on one shoulder. “yeah of course” he replies. you open the door stepping out, but as you get up, your hoodie raises slightly revealing your thong peeking out above your jeans slightly. Matt catches a glimpse turning red. you shut the door and walk away. he sits there in his car for a bit as he gulps before driving away.

Matt arrives home tidying his room before going to bed. he picks up one of his notebooks as he sees a sticky note on it reading, ‘thank you for dealing with me as a partner - Y/N’.

he smiles at the note as he puts it down on his bed side table, getting into bed. as he lays there, he couldn’t help but think about what his eyes caught from you earlier. your cleavage and your thong. he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Matt stop that.” he whispers to himself before shutting his eyes going to sleep.

Matt’s dream POV

you and Matt were sitting on your bed working on the project. Matt wasn’t paying attention to you as much and you were bothered by it. you took matters into your hands and you closed the book he was studying. you got on top of him, sitting on his lap as he gets caught off guard. you pull him into a passionate kiss and next thing you knew, you were under the covers tangled together naked.

End of Matt’s dream

Matt’s POV

i woke up sitting up quickly with my breathing uneven. what was that?! my heart was racing. did i just have a wet dream?!

i pulled up the covers to see a wet stain on top of the crotch of my sweats. what the fuck. this has never happened before. with y/n?! why? because of what i saw yesterday? i never even had sex before. how could i have easily dreamed of it? i gulp before getting up. i head to the bathroom to clean myself. i really can’t believe that just happened. now all i could do is replay it in my head. i groan at the thought.

after i got ready, i headed straight to school. on the drive there, i still couldn’t stop replaying everything that happened in my dream. even if i tried to distract myself, it wouldn’t go away. i needed it bad.

End of Matt’s POV

you and Matt were in class as you tried to tell him a story. all he was doing was nodding and staying quiet. “Matt? are you okay?” you question. he shakes his head before speaking, “yeah- yeah i’m good. sorry.” you give him a questionable look as you reply, “well you weren’t really paying attention as i spoke.” you laugh a bit. “oh i was.” he says with a nervous smile. “yeah okay.” you say turning your body straight, pretending to pay attention to the teacher.

Matt does the same as he groans quietly to himself. he didn’t know if he should tell you or not about what he imagined. he decided to shrug it off.

it was the end of the day again as you both end up at Matt’s house. you were standing up as you rehearsed your lines on what to say for the presentation. Matt just sat there looking lost. “Matt seriously what is wrong? i can’t do this without you, you know?” you say frustrated. “i’m sorry. i’ve just been having a hard time.” he responds scratching the back of his neck. “well we really need to focus on this. if you need to get something off your chest, do it now so we can continue.” you say. Matt hesitates before speaking, “okay well i sort of had an odd dream last night.” you look at him confused. “okay?” you reply. “it wasn’t a normal dream.” he continues.

“what? were you like having sex or something?” you ask jokingly with a laugh. but he just sits there staying silent with a blank face. “oh. oh! you did!” you exclaim. “who was it about?” asking with curiosity. “some random girl from class.” he says lying through his teeth. “so what’s the big deal?” you ask. “this your first time having a wet dream?” all he does is nod. you widen your eyes, “really? that’s new. i would’ve thought you were like every other guy constantly thinking about sex.” letting out a laugh. “why is it bothering you so much?”

“because, it’s weird. especially with this specific girl.” he responds. you raise an eyebrow before asking a question, “have you ever had sex before?” the question takes Matt by surprise as he responds quickly, “of course i have!” he lies. you let out a laugh. “okay! sorry! well then you shouldn’t be so weirded out. now come on. lets focus.” replying to him.

it still was eating him in the inside.

*time skip*

after the weeks flew by, you and Matt got an ‘A’ for your presentation. you decided to celebrate by treating Matt with fast food. you both sat on his bed eating. “thank you for being such a good partner.” you say with a smile taking a bite from your burger. “no, thank you.” he replies. you couldn’t help but notice he still was acting strange these past days. “Matt don’t tell me you’re still on about the sex dream.” you ask wiping your hands with a napkin. “you should just shoot your shot already since it’s eating you up. maybe she’ll feel the same.” he shakes his head, “i wouldn’t know how to approach her. plus, that’s weird. i had a sex dream about her and what? i just walk up to her and tell her that? that's creepy.” he replies. you laugh at his response. “well not quite but, i don’t like how you’re acting so off.” you say taking another bite.

Matt sighs as he shakes his head, “just forget it y/n. i’m fine.” you stop in your place as you shake your head. “okay that’s it.” placing the unfinished food on his side table. you wipe your mouth with a napkin as you look at him. it was silent for a bit until you spoke up, “do you want to kiss me?” you blurt out. Matt’s eyes widen. “what?” he asks.

Matt’s POV

i hesitated for a bit. “to help distract you.” she says with a small laugh. "uh- uh yeah sure." I say hesitantly. i mean i couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. i scoot closer to her. i’ve only ever kissed one other person and i don’t think it was good so maybe this will be different. i can hear my heart pounding out of my chest. i put my hand on her cheek as i lean in and kiss her softly. she scoots closer without breaking the kiss, putting her hands on my shoulders.

to her she might think this is just a distraction but, little did she know my dream was about her. we continue to kiss as she swings her leg around to straddle me. i put my hands on her waist as the kisses get heavier. i could feel myself get hard beneath her and i could tell she notices. i pull away from embarrassment, “i’m so sorry.” i say. all she does is smile and respond with, “it’s okay.” pulling me into another kiss. i could feel her start to grind against my clothed dick. i let out a small groan from the feeling. i pull away as i lay her down gently. “d-do you want to do this?” i say nervously but, i couldn’t expose the fact this would be my first. she nods as she kisses me again. she takes off my shirt as i do the same for her. i unbutton my jeans and pull them off leaving me in my boxers as she does the same with her pants leaving her in her under garments. i gulp looking at her body. come on Matt play it cool. we kiss again as she rubs my dick through my boxers. i really hope i’m big enough.

i reach into my drawer as i pull out a condom. i bought a box just in case i were to lose it. which i am now, so it was good preparation. i open rip off the deal as i look at her. “uh.. i haven’t done this in a while so.. i might not be as good.” i warn her lying. i’ve never done this at all. i had to prepare her just in case i cum quick. “it’ll be good” she reassures me. she takes the condom from my hand as i take off my boxers slowly. i see her eyes widen a bit as she slowly wraps the condom on my dick. i lay her back down, sliding her panties to the side, and align myself at her entrance. she gives me a smile as i look down at what i’m about to do. i push myself into her slowly as i watch her relax.

i hear her moan softly as i continue to push my full length into her. “shit.” i groan quietly. i watch her face as i start to thrust slowly. she shut her eyes as she bites her lip softly. i can’t believe this is happening. my dream finally coming true. i pick up the pace as i put both my hands on her sides. “yes just like that.” she moans out putting her hands on my chest. i kiss her as i continue to go deeper into her keeping my fast tempo.

“fuck Matt you feel so good.” she moans. every time she spoke i felt my dick twitch. her moans were heavenly. “you’re so perfect.” i whisper to her. i lay myself on her slightly as she scratches my back. her scratches were hard as i feel the slight sting.

all my worries disappear once i find out i’m actually doing a good job. she made me feel a bit more confident. as soon as i was about to cum i pull out because i wanted to keep pleasing her. i pull her by her thighs as i put my head in between her legs. i start licking at her folds softly as she lets out a breath. i then start sliding my tongue up and down, swirling my tongue on her clit. i felt her grip my hair lightly. “oh Matt.” she moans. “you taste so good.” i say continuing to eat her out. “Matt i’m going to cum.” she says as i start to suck on her clit. she throws her head back as she arches her back, shoving her pussy more into my face. “yes Matt just like that!” she screams out as she cums all over my mouth.

i get back up as i lick my lips, realigning myself as i thrust back into her sensitive core. she gasps as she grips onto my arms. i thrust at a fast pace before cumming inside her into the condom. “oh fuck.” i moan out.

we were both catching our breath as i pull out of her. i take off the condom and throw it in the trash. "you must be a pro or something. that was incredible.” she says sitting up putting her clothes on.

good to know. little did she know, i ain't ever did this before.

a/n: not my best work lol. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you :) - L 🤍

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets imagines #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #Spotify

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clementine-thedestroyer · 5 months

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Sometimes, I wish I was as important as your email inbox - John Price x reader

Warnings/tags: Hurt comfort, could be considered angst. Miscommunication(?) established relationship, fem!reader. This was supposed to be pwp... then it turned in to this unholy abomination of hurt comfort because I have daddy issues and can’t fucking do this.

In which, Price has been a bit extra busy with work, and reader feels a bit… alone.

You open the door and step out of the bathroom, tugging your towel tighter around yourself as the steamy warmth from your shower mixes with the relatively cold air of the bedroom.

Price is sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out and phone in hand as he scrolls through the device- likely for something work related. When he sees you step out of the bathroom, his eyes flit towards you and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

You hadn’t expected him to be home yet. For the past week, he’d been leaving early and getting back late. Usually, he left early enough that it was still dark outside, and that the only goodbye you’d get was a gentle nudge to wake you up and a kiss on the forehead- followed by a goodbye and a reassurance he’d be back before you knew it. You knew he had to go, it was some week-long training he was helping to administer- but that didn’t help to soothe the loneliness that came with an empty house and waking up to a cold spot where your husband usually lay.

Most of the time, it was dark again by the time he got back. And he was too exhausted to do much more than shower, collapse into bed next to you, and mumble a few “love you’s” before tugging you against his chest and using you as a body pillow for the night.

Tonight though, he was home earlier than usual.

Not by much- it was still late, and had you been given another thirty minutes, you’d probably have been curled up in bed and- judging by how exhausted you felt- probably completely passed out. And of course- though he may be home earlier than expected… he wasn’t really free. The texts, emails, and paperwork were what most commonly followed him home from work- and it was stupid to be jealous of paperwork or goddamn Gmail. You knew that. You told yourself that constantly. You also constantly reminded yourself that you chose this, you knew what you were getting into with this man. But that didn’t help how starved you’d become for his touch and affection. And it certainly didn't help the nights where you would fall asleep next to your Price, yet feel more alone than ever- because there was something heartbreaking about falling asleep feeling cold, lonely, and unwanted, with the man you loved right next to you- but too busy with what felt like constant work.

Although… As much as you hated those nights, it was still better than when Price would come back with new injuries and guilt weighing heavy on his shoulder.

Today had been a bit of a rough day for you. Tiering, to say the least… especially now, as you realized tonight was shaping up to be one of the ones that hurt the most. And despite the guilt you felt at not even attempting conversation with Price after nearly a week of only goodbyes and goodnights, you really wanted nothing more than to put on your comfiest pajamas and curl up for sleep.

You missed him dearly, but you were too emotionally and mentally drained to figure out what to do about it. Frankly, this was the only thing your exhausted self could think to do: go to sleep and hope that the rest of this (particularly) dreadful week passes quickly.

As exhausted as you may be… you also know that Price is probably about to stand up to take a shower of his own now that you’re out, and that by the time he’s done, you’ll probably be asleep- so you stifle a yawn and pad over to Price.

Once at Price’s side of the bed, you lean over to press a kiss to his forehead- a hand held over your chest to keep your towel from falling down when you do so. “Goodnight.” You mumble, stumbling a bit when you get a head rush as you try to stand back up.

When you start to sway, Price frowns and reaches out, placing a steadying hand on your upper hip. “You alright’, Love?” He asks, forehead knitted in worry.

You nod, ducking your head a bit and pressing a hand against your temple as you wait for the momentary dizziness to pass. “I’m fine, just stood up too fast.” You murmur, silent for a moment as you take a deep breath and start to straighten up.

From where you stand, you can see that Price’s phone is, in fact, open to his email inbox- and you can’t help the frown that accompanies the pang of dejection that shoots through your chest.

“You sure?” Price asks, his concern seemingly only growing as he speaks. “You look a bit off-color.”

You nod your head “yes”, trying your best to simply put Price’s worries to rest. You do know that you should talk to him, that you should take this opportunity to tell him how you feel, that you should stop this spiral you're in. But… you’re tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired emotionally- You’re just fucking tired, and everything feels like it’s all going shit.

The hand on your hip moves upwards, and a strong arm wraps around your waist and gently tugs you down. You land with a bit of a bounce onto Price’s lap- his arm around your waist bracing you and keeping you upright as his other one comes up to press the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Bloody hell, you’re burning up.” Price says, the worry lines on his forehead deepening as he quickly drops his phone. “You sure you’re feeling alright?” He asks again, clearly not believing your early assertion of “fine”.

“‘Not sick, just took a hot shower.” You mumble, leaning into his hand where it still rests on your forehead- letting out a deep breath at the touch and letting your heavy eyes drift shut.

Price is clearly unconvinced- looking just as worried as before as he moves one hand to your upper back and the other to the nape of your neck- pulling you close and lifting your hair out of his way so he can check once again for a temperature.

The hand against your forehead must've broken something in you, because from that moment on you feel like a damn had burst. Like all the effort you’d been putting into hiding how bad you’ve needed this is violently swept away and forgotten. Even when you loop your arms around his neck and pull yourself against him, you’re not close enough. No matter how much of you is touching him, you need more. No matter how much you press your face into his chest or the crook of his neck, you can still see the lights from the bedside lamp, smell the soap you used in the shower, and hear the neighbor's dog barking at god knows what. And that’s wrong- because all you want in this moment is Price. You want to be held impossibly close to him, you want your everything to be only him, just for a moment.

You don’t hear what he says, but you feel him take you by the shoulders and gently to get you to look up at him.

In response, you only whine and squeeze him tighter, pressing your face deeper into his neck and shaking your head no.

He gets the hint- a deep sigh leaving his body as you feel him relaxing beneath you. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head and you feel two large, warm, calloused hands slip under your thighs and lift- moving you so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Comfortable, Love?” He asks- to which you nod, goosebumps rising along your body as the air from the fan, even on its lowest setting, feels frigid against your still slightly damp skin- your towel from a moment ago having fallen as Price moved you. A hand runs along your arm, warming the skin slightly as you feel Price shift underneath you in preparation to stand up.

“Do you want me to get you some clothes?” He asks- to which you, again, shake your head in response. This time, side to side as a “no”.

Price chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh traveling between you as he sets a hand on his nightstand, using it to support himself as lifts you two and yanks the covers out from where he had been sitting on them- settling back down and pulling them up to cover the two of you.

The comforter on you two’s bed is big and fluffy- perfect at trapping body heat and warming you up quickly. It’s probably your favorite blanket in the whole house, and you’ve been known to drag it out of the bed and curl up with it on the couch whenever you’re sick or it’s cold enough outside that the heater can’t keep up. Being wrapped in it is enough for you to- gradually- begin to loosen your hold on Price. Eventually, you’re not so much clinging to him as much as you’re simply draped over him.

But even when you release your death grip, Price doesn't try to get you up. He lets you stay, keeping you pressed close against his chest and your head resting on his shoulder. He keeps one hand under the blanket, resting on your lower back- occasionally stroking at the soft skin with the pad of his thumb or idly tracing the dips and rises of your body as you drifted in and out of sleep. In his other hand, he held his phone. Likely going through emails or doing something or other work related.

You drifted between varying levels of sleep and awakeness as he held you. Whenever your head would start to slip from where he’d propped it up against his shoulder, he’d pause from his work to gently set it back and make sure you were doing okay. He’d often press sweet, loving kisses to the top of your head, cheek, or temple, or give gentle, protective squeezes to your waist whenever he felt you stir awake, and he’d speak soothingly and stroke your hair whenever you started mumbling half-asleep words to yourself or him.

At one point, you started drifting deeper and deeper to sleep- waking up less and having fewer moments of half-awake confusion after being moved or repositioned- only to later wake up flat on your back - now dressed in some pajamas- and with Price slowly pulling away from you.

You jerk awake, gasping for breath as you immediately latch onto the part of Price that’s closest to you- which turns out to be an arm. You immediately find him back at your side, tears running down your face as you beg for him to stay.

You have his right arm in a white-knuckled grip, and his other one is behind your back, holding you up as he looks down at you- the most worried you’ve ever seen him.

“Shh, you’re okay- I’m right here.” Price says, his look of concern only worsening as you let go of his arm in favor of clinging to his torso.

“D-Don’t go!” You sob, the burst of adrenaline from waking up and thinking he was leaving flushing through your body and leaving you shaky and with a pounding heart.

“I’m not going to leave, Love.” he reassures you, one of his hands petting your head, his beard scratching at your cheek as he holds you close in an attempt to comfort you. “But you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You don’t respond, hiding your face against him.

He pulls away, cupping your cheek gently and making you look at him. “Sweetheart, I’m worried. You wouldn’t talk at all once you got in my lap, and you freaked out when I tried to set you down. I need you to talk to me.”

You pull your face away, going back to hiding against his chest… but eventually nod.

Price is silent for a moment- thinking before he speaks again

“Did someone hurt you?”

A quick shake of your head “no” and a heavy sigh of relief from Price.

“Is it something that happened at work?”

Another shake of your head “no”.

“Is it something that I did?”

You hesitate…

Your lack of answer tells Price enough, and a kiss is pressed to the top of your head. Had you moved your face from where you were hiding it, you would have seen not only the look of absolute love he was looking down at you with, but the thinly veiled guilt he held as he watched the way you clung to him.

“I figured, love.”

You hiccup, choking on your own tears as you do and starting to cough. Price rubs soothing circles into your back as you try to catch your breath.

“I know, I know. This training thing is hard, and I should've done better at making sure my girl was okay. I’m sorry, love.”

“Y-you don’t have anything to be sorry f-”

Price cuts you off with a stern look.

“None of that, now. I should’ve made more of an effort to be there for you.” He pauses, kissing you sweetly before continuing. “I love you so, so much, and I’m so sorry I let you forget that and that I let things get to this point, okay?”

“I love you too- “ You say softly, sniffling and trying to wipe away some of your tears- only for Price to come in with a tissue and gently start to blot at your red and blotchy face.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you about it…” You mumble, your face heating up as you try to take the tissue from Price to dry your own face, but failing to do anything more than get him to laugh a bit and start teasing you by keeping the tissue away.

“Tomorrow is the last day of the training, I’m going to take the day after off, and we’re going to do something, okay?” He says, laughing softly before letting you have the tissue and kissing you on the cheek.

Price’s hand finds yours, and he laces you two’s fingers together before pulling your still interlocked hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of yours.

“And I’m not just sorry about this week, I’m sorry about recently in general. I’m going to be better about making sure I make time and showing you how much I care for you, okay?”

You nod, giving one final wipe to your face before you started squirming in his hold in an attempt to sit up a bit more.

“I’m going to be better too- I’m not going to bottle things up… and I’m going to try harder to tell you when I’m feeling like something’s wrong instead of letting it get like this…”

Pride tugs Price’s smile wider, and he brushes a strand of hair out of your face- tucking it behind your ear before pressing yet another kiss to your face.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’m glad.”

You smile, feeling like a weight has been lifted after your cry and conversation with Price. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing him as tight as you possibly can in an attempt to convey how thankful you are. Of his patience, of his kindness, of him.

“I love you,” You say into his chest as you squeeze him

He lets out a soft “oof” at your squeeze, huffing in amusement before wrapping his own arms around you and giving you a (far from full strength) squeeze of his own.

“I love you too.”

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princessamericachavez · 1 year

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Even before the episode, while rewatching old seasons, I was just struck by how big an impact Buck’s had on Eddie’s life.

Like, please, picture this:

You are Eddie Diaz, ok? An army vet who quite literally just went through an extremely traumatic experience, immediately got left by your wife and in a desperate move to find happiness for you and your son you move across the country to start a new life.

You are the new guy at work and this man about your age really has it out for you. That’s fine by you. You’ve put up with enough bullshit in the army, you are just here to do your work, it’s harder than that to get under your skin. Plus, this guy seems okay, aside from all the dick measuring, and you’re sure he’ll tire himself out if you just don’t play along. Then, oh surprise, after a single shift you give the guy one compliment and he folds completely, before you know it he’s decided you two are friends. Fine, good. You miss the army’s camaraderie. This will probably be just like that.

Few weeks in, Christopher comes up. You hesitate because you don’t like talking about your kid with strangers, but you are worried about him being out there alone during the earthquake and there’s really no way to avoid the subject forever. You’re already dreading the pity looks from people who don’t understand this kid is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Instead, you get a wide smile, “he’s super adorable, I love kids”. In retrospect, you should’ve expected it. What you don’t expect is the way Buck spends the entirety of the shift reassuring you that Chris is alright, even when you’re pretty sure you’ve done nothing to betray your worry (you know better than to panic, it does nothing to help), but Buck seems to notice anyway and keeps sprouting curiosities to reassure you. He even drives you across the torn up town at a reckless speed to make sure you can reach your son as soon as possible.

Few weeks later, abuela has an accident. Buck drives you to the hospital, even though you could’ve taken a cab to the firehouse to pick up your truck, and goes all the way in with you. He’s a good friend like that. Turns out, he’s a very good friend, because he catches you by surprise calling ahead to let the Cap know you need help with Chris and arranges a whole day of him hanging out with the 118. You didn’t ask for it, and he doesn’t expect so much as a ‘thank you’.

Next night, he makes a big deal of introducing you to a woman and you are already dreading, once again, the reveal moment when you have to explain that thank you very much but you are still married and really your only priority right now is your son and- wait, that woman is the perfect caretaker that might or might not be the solution you’ve been desperately searching for to get your and your son’s life together.

This guy you just met a few weeks ago has given you friendship, reassurance, company, thoughtful help without you ever asking (you’ve never been good at asking for it) and he’s just sitting there smiling proudly while he helps you possibly assure your kids future.

All of this... it happens in the first FOUR episodes of s2 after Eddie is introduced. No wonder he’s in love ride or die for Buck. Who wouldn’t be?

In a year, they are inseparable. In two years, Eddie makes him Christopher’s legal guardian in case he dies. In three, Buck saves his life. In four they are basically a family and the person Christopher goes to in a panic. Five years in, Buck is in a coma and Eddie Diaz cannot even look at him, cannot picture a world where he’s dead, cannot envision his life without him.

#eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #buddie #911 fox #911 spoilers #the way those first four episodes dramatically altered the trajectory of Eddie Diaz's life #no wonder he wasn't at all in the coma dream he was in another entire plane emotionally without Buck #anyway really hope they get a conversation next week where some of this is touched upon

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shaunamilfman · 1 month

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you must like me for me [1]

summary: You weren't sure what you did to piss off Shauna Shipman, but you've been on the receiving end of her death glares for just as long as you can remember. If looks could kill you'd certainly be six feet under, but hey–it's kind of hot, right? For better or worse, everything changes after a run-in at a party. A/N: NSFW. the "shauna hooks up with you instead of jeff" au that you know and love. Part 2 | Part 3

Click. Click. “Fucking work,” Nat muttered. Click. Click. Click. “Piece of shit.” She hits it against her palm a few times before trying again. Click.

Stay calm. Deep breaths.

You bury your face into your hands with a heavy sigh as Nat keeps flicking uselessly at her lighter. “Are you done yet?” You ask wryly, voice muffled by your palm.

“Nope,” Nat comments, purposefully flicking it louder. The grating sound of her empty lighter catching was starting to drive you insane, and you both knew it would only get worse. You groan as you pull back to glare up at her, dutifully rummaging through your jacket pocket for your own lighter.

There's the beginnings of a smirk clearly visible on her face, and you realize with a sudden clarity that annoying you had been her goal the entire time. You almost want to keep it from her on sheer principle, but she'd just find another way to irritate you if you did. Pissing you off seemed to be one of her few passions in life. Do what you love and you never work a day or some shit. If only she took algebra this seriously.

Your hand wraps around the cold metal, your thumb rubbing soothingly over the familiar gouges on the surface. You dreaded having to hand it over, already quietly mourning its comforting weight as you held it loosely up in front of you. It was just a lighter, sure, but it was your favorite lighter. You were aware that it probably wasn’t all that healthy to use a lighter as an emotional crux, but you figured that was a problem for a later you.

Nat shoves her bic back in her pocket with a crooked grin, reaching for yours and snickering as you jerk it away from her. “Don't be a dick,” She says.

“I want it back, Nat,” You warn. Nat rolls her eyes as she nods, leaning over you to snatch it out of your hand. You let her take it easily, relaxing back against the wall as she finally lights up. Nat exhales slowly, relief evident in her voice as the familiar smell washes over you. You weren’t particularly fond of the smell, but you doubt many people were. You’d smoked here and there when Nat was feeling particularly generous, but it wasn’t a habit you planned on picking up.

You were much more content to watch, basking silently in the smoke of whichever of your friends you’d followed outside. That’s how you preferred to experience most of the world, watching quietly until something caught your attention. Nat called it ‘brooding’, but you preferred to think of yourself just as the silent type. Nat laughed her ass off the one time you mentioned it to her, calming herself down only to randomly burst into laughter for the next week whenever she thought of it.

Since then you’ve decided to keep that to yourself as well, aghast at the idea of giving Nat more ammo to use against you. Nat was your best friend, sure, that was undeniable. Still, she could be a real bitch when she wanted to– it’s part of why you got along so well in the first place.

“Jesus,” She laughs out suddenly, cigarette held loosely between two fingers as she gestures across the room. “If looks could kill.” Your eyes follow the gesture absentmindedly, grinning as you catch sight of a murderous-looking Shauna staring down Jackie and Jeff across the room. Your eyes widen at the sheer rage she's giving off– you're not sure you've ever felt that strongly about anything in your life.

There was something about the intensity of her face that made it difficult to tear your eyes away from her. She looked fucking psychotic, like the kind of expression you'd catch on the eleven o'clock news as someone insists that ‘he just seemed so normal’. Honestly, you wouldn't be all that surprised to find out Shauna Shipman already had a trail of bodies behind her. You eye her arms interestedly– she'd certainly be strong enough to carry the body off.

Still, if Shauna's looks could kill you would've been dead a long time ago. You've been on the receiving end of that particular look so many times that it lost its intended impact a long time ago. You weren't quite sure what you'd done to piss her off, but you quietly thanked yourself for it. You knew she meant it to be intimidating, but the way you shivered under her gaze was never quite as fearful as she probably hoped.

That flaming anger in her eyes that you worried might burn you from the inside out if you weren’t careful only made you want to press more. You wanted so badly to see what would happen when she finally lost it on you. Shauna was dangerous, as you more than well knew. You’ve seen evidence of that more than just about anyone else: always carefully lingering by the edge of the crowd as Shauna started swinging.

There was something about her then, something utterly enticing in her fury. She seemed larger than life in those moments, all civility leaving her body as she became something to truly be reckoned with. The dead look in her eyes and the harsh look of fury as she lost control of whoever was stupid enough to start shit with her. It was almost intimate.

As many times as she’d glared you down she had never actually tried to swing on you, as much as you sometimes wish she would. You had a pretty similar reputation, and you were more than a little curious about which one of you would come out victorious if ever came down to it. You don’t think you’d mind the result either way in all honesty. You would count yourself lucky to lose a fight if it was to her. Not, of course, that you’d let her win. That would take all the fun out of it, all of the struggle.

You’ve spent more time than you’d care to admit thinking about how her knuckles would feel tearing into your flesh, your face rocked from side to side with the force of every blow as she used the full strength of her body to really lay into you. You liked to imagine the way her fists would look stained with your blood, her heavy breathing above you as she tired herself out beating her fury into your body.

So, yeah. You were perfectly normal about Shauna Shipman.

“Hey,” You hear a soft voice say, glancing away from Shauna at the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. You turn to glare at whatever asshole is in your face, trying to hide your surprise at finding Jackie in front of you. Jackie takes a half step back at the look, hesitation melting into determination as she does her best to stare you down in return.

You can’t help the way a smile tugs at the corner of your lips: Jackie’s attempt at a glare is more funny than scary. Her eyebrows narrow in determination, but she seems more confused than intimidating. Had she walked up to you on the street you probably would have tried to give her directions. Her lips twisted into a scowl, but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it. It was as if she was imitating a storybook villain more than anything else. She probably should have practiced it in a mirror a few more times before debuting it.

You appreciated the valiant effort but decided she ought to leave the intimidation to Shauna. She seems to come to a similar conclusion, looking down at her feet to hide a slight flush on her face as she awkwardly rocks back on her heels.

“Did you seriously snap in my face?” You ask, amused.

“You were like totally zoned out,” Jackie defends, rolling her eyes when Nat snickers.

“So you snap in my face?”

“Come on,” Jackie draws out, pouting up at you. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides, that was like five minutes ago now.” You scoff, but decide it was probably best just to let it go at this point.

“Did you want something?” You prompt.

“Oh! Yeah,” Jackie laughs, waving a joint she seems to pull out of nowhere in your face. “You have a light, right?” You glance at her curiously, before shrugging. You look over your shoulder at Nat who thumbs your lighter open, quickly lighting it up before stuffing it back in her pocket.

Jackie grins as she takes a hit, purposely blowing the smoke in your face as you narrow your eyes at her. Normally you’d excuse it as typical Jackie Taylor brand irritation, but you have an odd feeling that she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her eyes betray just a hint of a smile as if she’s in on a joke you weren’t meant to understand.

You open your mouth to say something in return, probably antagonistic, but Jackie holds the joint out towards you in a peace offering. You consider it for a moment before taking it, deciding there were definitely worse ways to spend a Saturday night. Besides, free weed was free weed. Even if it was somehow already stained with Jackie’s lipstick.

You inhale slowly, purposely blowing out into Jackie’s face. She scowls at you, but quickly gets over it as she snatches it back. You talk to a loose and happy Jackie Taylor for a while, too engrossed in the conversation to realize Shauna's death glare had long since shifted targets.

…

“No,” You say firmly. Nat gives you a sad look as she glances up at you.

“No,” You repeat again, hesitating this time. Nat, sensing weakness, immediately holds her hands together in a pleading gesture, making you roll your eyes. “Fine,” You start to walk off in search of the kitchen. “But I'm going to get you the warmest can I can find.”

You can faintly hear Nat shouting “Booooo!” As you turn the corner but decide to ignore it. You bypass the ice chest as you see a can sitting off to the side, clearly set down and forgotten. Still, it was definitely unopened. Perfect.

You're about to walk back into the living room when you catch sight of a flashing light through a window. Your eyes widen as the siren sounds, the flashing blue and red lights bright in the darkness.

Shit. Nat was on her own.

The music comes to a dramatic stop as everyone else seems to come to the same conclusion, but you've already slipped out the backdoor before the shouting starts. You run blindly through the forest, waiting until the lights aren't quite as visible in the distance before coming to a stop. You lean against a tree as you catch your breath, silently laughing at the dismayed shouts as people on the edge of the woods are caught.

You duck behind a fallen tree at the sound of a stick breaking, wondering how they'd even get out to you so quickly. The sound of snapping branches only gets louder, quickly approaching your location as you start to hear the sound of heavy breathing. You watch in disbelief as Shauna runs right past you, rolling your eyes as she doesn't even seem to notice you.

“Shauna,” You whisper harshly. She whirls around in confusion, a slight fear on her face till she seems to just barely make out your face in the dark.

“Y/N,” She mutters irritatedly. You give her an unimpressed look despite knowing she wouldn't be able to make it out from that far away.

“Don't sound so excited to see me,” You mutter. Let her get caught if she wants to. She obviously doesn't seem to have much experience running away from the cops.

“Trust me, you're the last person I'd want to run away from in the woods,” Shauna seethes, but stomps over to lean against a tree near you.

You start to respond before you hear harsh panting, glancing back over the tree to see Jeff running through the woods right toward the cops. You think about calling out to him, but you think it's funnier to imagine his face when he realizes what he's done. You're not that surprised he's mixed up his directions. You glance over at Shauna's look of disgust as she watches.

“You could go with him instead,” You offer quietly, grinning smugly as she shoots you a look of disdain.

She decides to ignore you for a while, bouncing her leg up and down to work off her nervous energy. You both wince at the sound of every broken twig, almost certain this is going to be the one that gets you caught. You finally glare over at her as the rustling starts to get on your nerves.

“You know, you're pretty bad at this,” You murmur, peering over the tree one last time before settling on the ground with your back against it. You start fumbling through your pockets for your lighter, but quickly realize Nat must've taken it with her.

Bitch.

Now you have to deal with Shauna sober. Soberish, you think, searching through your jacket pockets till you find it. You pop the tab open with a grin that quickly slides into a wince as the taste hits your tongue. You'd been tasked with getting the beer can by Nat, a task which you reluctantly agreed to but now felt oddly thankful for. Her loss was your gain, and besides– it's not like it was your fault the party was busted before you could get her lukewarm can of beer back to her.

You take another sip, almost surprised as it somehow tasted worse than the last one, but Shauna snatches it from your hand and tosses it behind her before you can take another one. You stare at your empty hand in disbelief, hand still clenched around where the stolen can once sat before you slowly look up at her. She's got that famous grin on her face, head tilted in a way that you know means she's about to start shit.

Still, even you're surprised when she throws the now empty can aimlessly behind her and stumbles forward to straddle your legs. Your eyes are wide when you somehow end up with a lap full of Shipman, hands resting instinctively on her thighs as she scoots up to press her hips flush against yours.

“Jesus, Shipman,” You mutter. “Warn a girl.”

“You know, I've heard a few rumors about you,” She murmurs, a hungry glint in her eyes. You resist the urge to tremble under her gaze, feeling oddly like a prey animal as she stares intently down at you. You almost want to get up and run, but you shudder at the thought of dumping her off your lap to do it.

“If you seriously ask me if I've done anal with Kevin we're going to find out which one of us would win in a fight, Shipman. I swear to God.” You say, stealing yourself for a fight as Shauna just smirks down at you with that strange look on her face.

“Heard you had a thing for girls. Heard you were good at it.”

“I don't kiss and tell,” You say firmly, pointedly digging your thumb into her thighs as they start to bracket you tighter. Shauna hisses in pain, hand clutching your shoulder tightly as you only press them in harder. Shauna relaxed her grip with a whimper, a fucking whimper, as she unconsciously pressed herself further into your thumb. She looks at you with an almost unreadable expression as she thinks for a moment, before shifting and tentatively rocking her hips against yours.

“Too bad that senior you hooked up with last year doesn't feel the same way about it,” Shauna snarks, rutting down in earnest as your hands come up to encourage her hips as she rides your thigh.

“What?” You ask distractedly, a breathy sound as you manage to tear your eyes from the way her dress rides up with every roll of her hips.

“Fuck,” She draws out shakily, eyes slipping shut as she rests her head on your shoulder. A pleasured sigh escaped her as she found a good angle, hips stuttering against you until your guiding hands took over for her.

“Had to double back last year for something that Jackie forgot,” A strange hint of venom enters her voice at the name. “And Kelly couldn't stop singing your praises to last year's varsity team. Best fuck she's ever had, did you know that? Of course, she's only ever slept with her loser boyfriend so it probably isn't that much of an achievement.”

Your initial wave of disgust at the admission is overshadowed by a feeling of pride. Best fuck she's ever had? No. You're upset that she's talking about you behind your back. Definitely. Your righteous indignation is quickly tamped down as Shauna whines out her protest as she bites pointedly at your neck.

Right, you think, quickly resuming the endless back-and-forth motions of Shauna's hips as she lets out these perfect little noises into your ear.

“Think it's a little obvious that I have a thing for girls at this point,” You comment wryly, sneaking a peek down the neckline of her dress as she shudders against you.

“Oh, fuck. Right there. Right there,” She pleads, the wet glide of her against your thigh rubbing just right.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, Shipman?” You tease, pulling her down harder against you. She opens her eyes just to glare at you, the heat in her stare almost enough to make you back down as she seems almost resentful of the pleasure you're giving her.

She scoffs. “Even Randy could…” She trails off into a loud moan, muttering a few quiet curses under her breath before continuing, “...stay still while I get myself off.”

“Is that right?”

“Sure is.”

“Maybe you should go find him, then,” You say, slowly drawing your hands away from her hips.

“Don't be an asshole,” Shauna snaps, clawing at your back in warning. “Make me come or I’ll–”

“What? You’ll do what?” You pause for a moment, giving her a chance to respond.

“Maybe you should shut up and take it before I decide to walk off, yeah? Maybe you can be just a little nicer for once so you won’t have to walk back to your car still dripping in your panties.” Her jaw is clenched tightly, an absolute look of murder in her eyes but she doesn’t offer up another threat.

“Can you do that for me?” You taunt, pressing on the sore spot as soon as you realize its existence. Shauna huffs angrily, her nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to draw blood. Strangely the anger seems to make it better for her, her thrusts slowly speeding up the longer you continue to irritate her until she's riding your thigh with a vengeance.

She whispers breathy threats of violence into your ear in between ragged moans, but it's hard to take her at face value as she rubs herself all over the rough denim of your jeans. You wince at the thought of the stain she's going to leave, quickly pushing it out of your mind as Shauna bites at your shoulder through your shirt to muffle her moan as she comes. Even as muffled as it is she’s so loud that you can still clearly hear her as she continues to grind weakly against you as she rides out her orgasm.

“Did you just...” You ask in astonishment.

“No,” Shauna lies, voice just a little too high pitched and embarrassed for it to be the truth. She seems to gather as much from the shit-eating grin on your face, slapping weakly at your shoulder with a hint of playfulness you've never seen directed at anyone but Jackie before. She glares at you again a moment later, as if she was trying to take it back. Leave it to Shauna Shipman to regret smiling.

“Shut up,” She groans, face flushing with embarrassment. “Whatever. Just make me come again. You can do that, can't you?”

With a roll of your eyes, you grab for her discarded flannel and roll it up to lay under her head as you sit up and lay her back on the forest floor. Shauna's smile is almost shy as you look down at her from your position between her spread legs. You trail your hand up her thigh for a moment before thinking better of it.

“Up,” You direct, tapping at her leg as you shrug your jacket off. She complies with a curious look on her face, a soft smile taking its place as you slip your jacket under her hips on the ground. You take the opportunity that's presented to you and hook your fingers in the waistband of her underwear as you pull it down your legs.

You hold up your surprising find on one finger, her lacy black panties almost blowing in the gentle breeze. She squeaks in embarrassment, her reflexes fast as she tries to grab for them but not quite as fast as yours as you jerk them away to shove in your pocket. “Didn't strike me as quite your style, Shipman,” You murmur, “Thought you'd be more of a boxers type.”

“Yeah?” Shauna asks. “You spend a lot of time thinking about what's beneath my clothes?”

You flush in embarrassment as you try to sputter out a response, before finally settling on a simple “Fuck you.”

“Gonna have to wear something under my uniform from now on. Had no idea someone was trying to look up my shorts,” Shauna says with feigned disgust, shaking her head as if she truly couldn't believe it.

“Eat a dick,” You mutter, rocking back on your knees as you move to stand up.

“Don't be such a baby,” Shauna chides, hooking her leg around your knee to keep you down. She grabs at the collar of your shirt as she drags you into a messy kiss that serves only to emphasize her lack of experience in the area. Still, no one will say that Shauna Shipman isn't a quick study as she thoroughly distracts you from her teasing.

“Jackie picked them out,” She murmurs lowly as you separate for air.

“What?” You ask.

“My... My panties,” Shauna admits with a quiet voice.

You grin and she rolls her eyes. “Don't say anything,” She warns.

“No, hey. I'm sure everyone lets their best friend pick out their panties. Nothing weird there,” You choke the laughter down to give her the most understanding look you can muster on a moment's notice. Shauna glares and you hold your hands up innocently. “Nat picked mine out too.”

“... Really?” She asks, eyes slowly tracing down to stare at your jeans.

“Fuck no,” You laugh out, burying your face into her neck as you shake with the force of it. She sighs irritatedly, pinching at your sides until you finally stop.

“Eat me out before I find someone else to do it,” She threatens, but you can still find the traces of levity on her face she hasn't managed to erase.

“Yes, Ma'am,” You say sarcastically, shifting to lean on your elbows as you spread her thighs around your shoulders.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #minors dni

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cybunii · 7 months

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IN MY MOUTH !!

a/n: I've never posted my writing before so let me know if I should improve on anything !!

Pairing : Steve Raglan x gn!reader

cw: age difference, oral, slight predator/prey dynamic, power difference, no use of y/n, idk what else to put here

+18 !!

You pulled up to his house and parked your car next to his. You had been complaining about the issues it had given you for weeks, dreading how much money it would cost to fix it. Steve had offered to take a look and you agreed, how could you say no to free help?

You texted him saying you were here and hopped out of the car, carefully shutting the door like it could break into pieces if you slammed it too hard. It wasn't an old car, but it wasn't a new car by any means. Anyone who looked at it could tell it needed work done.

You had gotten this car for your birthday a few years back, a shiny blue 2000 Honda Civic si, and you loved it. It wasn't super expensive but that didn't matter, just as long as it ran. You debated getting a second job to cover whatever repairs it needed. It wouldn't be easy but you didn't want to give your car up.

The sound of his garage door opening pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see him walking towards you.

“Be careful, it might bite you” You joked, rubbing the hood with your empty hand. He smirked and rolled his eyes before opening the hood.

Straight away his face turned serious, using his hands to mess around. Instead of paying attention to what he was doing, your eyes wandered all over his body. From his stern expression to his large hands, and then down to his broad shoulders and chest.

You were almost thankful it was hot out that day, as he was already rolling his sleeves up exposing his muscular arms. He stood back and ran his hands through his streaked hair. It was like he was putting on a show just for you, and all he was doing was fixing your car.

He knew you were staring him down, it was hard to ignore you watching his every move. He decided to play with you, crossing his arms, making noises here and there and even taking your hand to point at something. He couldn't ignore your reaction every time he did something, your eyes widening for a split second or biting your lip.

You wanted him as much as he wanted you, and he knew that.

“...” The sound of silence had confused you, and you looked up to meet his eyes. You were so busy staring that you hadn't noticed him watching you the entire time. He was looking down at you with an amused expression and you couldn't help but quickly look away.

“There are a few issues, but an oil change should be all you need..” Steve explained, walking back into his garage and messing around with his stuff.

You nodded and watched him work again.

Some time passed and he finally stood up. Sweat dripped from his brow, and oil stains almost decorated his shirt and face. His hair was messy, small strands falling and laying against his forehead. Even though he was sweaty from fixing your car, he still managed to look gorgeous. He glanced over at you for just a moment and grinned, showing off his sharp canines.

“Should be all good,” Steve said as he shut the hood.

"Wow, you really have a way with cars." You said, admiring his muscular body covered in grease and oil as he wiped his hair out of his eyes. You allow yourself to stare at him, an idea popping into your head after a few seconds.

“How should I repay you?” You ask pulling out your wallet, but fully knowing you don't mean money-wise.

He lets out an amused huff of breath, the realization of your intention dawning on him.

"Oh wow, that's not what I was expecting." He says with a grin, clearly lying through his teeth. He bites his lip and he glances down at your wallet, then back at your face.

"Uh, what did you have in mind?" He asks with a sly grin.

Your face flushes, knowing you'd have to be more direct.

With every silent second that passed, his intimidating gaze seemed to gain more and more weight. Like a predator sizing up its prey, getting ready to strike. The feeling was almost primal, a deep primal fear that ran down your spine.

He stood almost a foot above you, his powerful presence casting a shadow over you, his eyes burning into yours.

With broad, muscular shoulders and sharp, narrow features, the man was the definition of intimidation. His expression was stone cold, not a hint of emotion betraying the mask of steel he wore.

As you struggled to answer his question, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, a low rumble of a laugh escaping his lips. The sound almost mocking you.

"Not so cocky now, are we?" He asks, confident in already knowing the answer.

You swallowed hard, his words going straight down to your core. He was like a force of nature with his commanding voice and sharp features, you felt like a tiny bunny in comparison.

With a slight tilt of his head, he continued to stare you down. You swore you could feel your heart hammering away inside your chest as he seemed to peel away your layers of confidence, waiting for you to reveal the truth.

Not liking the feeling of being so vulnerable, you take a step backward.

The towering figure follows your movements, every step a confident stride towards you. As he gets closer, you can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline, as if every nerve in you is on high alert. You bump into the front of your car. His arms caged you in, leaving you unable to move.

That low, rumbly laugh echoes in your ears again, and your heart starts pounding out of your chest. You take a deep breath in, and the scent of cologne and cigarettes fills your nose. The smell is almost intoxicating, leaving you wanting more.

“I..” You mumble.

“Come on bunny, use your words” He whispered, his face dangerously close to yours.

“I want you.” You finally say, those few words full of hunger and desire.

The moment you reply, a smirk curls at the edges of his mouth. "Those are the right words, baby." He murmurs back, trying to bring you even closer. He takes your chin softly in his hand, his fingers sliding through your hair. His lips almost brushed against yours before he leaned back and stood up.

"But you'll have to prove it." He says with a smirk.

You almost whimpered when he pulled away, desperate for any kind of touch. You nod your head in response and quickly pull him back towards you, your lips finally colliding. The kiss is soft and quick, leaving you both wanting more.

He dives in again and you let out a soft moan as you feel his lips against yours. Your fingers dig into his muscular body, wanting to feel his strength and dominance. You pull away after what feels like forever. You try to lean in again but are held in place.

“Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" He whispers into your ear, his lips grazing against your skin. His breath is hot and heavy, and you feel his hungry gaze on you.

You nod and get on your knees in front of him. “Let me prove it to you.” You say, keeping your eyes on him as you undo his belt as slowly as possible. Your hands hook around the band of his boxers, moving at what could be called a snail's pace.

“..tease” He growled, almost whispering.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft and you looked back up at him, giving a few experimental strokes. You leaned forward and licked his tip, cleaning up any trace of precum. He groaned and bucked his hips, effortlessly sliding his cock in your mouth.

“..there we go, much better”

You narrow your eyes at him and take him fully in your mouth, the head hitting the back of your throat. His hands grabbed your hair, keeping you in place before letting you come back up for air. After a few seconds, you start to bob your head up and down.

“fuck…doing such a..good job..”

He moaned, his praise making you hum in approval.

His hands gripped your hair tighter as he began lazily thrusting in your mouth, quickly picking up the pace as he chased the high of his orgasm.

Letting him use you like this was almost too hot, but hearing him was even better. His groans and little praises as he mercilessly fucked your face.

He let out a small noise, almost sounding like a whine before pulling you down all the way. His hands roughly gripping the sides of your head as he came down your throat.

After a few seconds, he let go, almost making sure you got every drop. You slowly pulled off and wiped your mouth.

“How was that for payment?” You asked, looking at him with an innocent look.

“...”

"I think there might be a few more issues I need to fix..”

word count : 1.5k

#fnaf #steve raglan #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #william afton #suggestive #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #new to this #new to tumblr #matthew lillard #cybunii

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imababblekat · 1 year

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Safety

**WARNINGS**: mentions of violence and bodily harm

~~~~~~~~

@samsooney, “Hello 🩷🩷 I love the idea of reader getting into an accident with the foot and having to move into the lair with Donatello, he's too scared for their life so having them move in is a big step in their relationship but also to keep them safe.”

~xXx~

The sounds of struggle and desperate, pain struck pleas rang out like a chorus in Donatello’s mind. Your name was formed from his lips but no sound came from his desperate attempt to shout for you. In the distance he lay witness to the Foot unrelentingly beat down upon your already broken body, and as hard as he tried to dash towards you, it only seemed like he could move backwards. It felt like there was a vice around Donnie’s heart as he listened to your shrill cries and screams, watching and unable to look away from the blood that came splattering from your fresh wounds. In one last ditch effort, the purple clad turtle leapt from the ground, hoping that removing his feet the blackened earth would somehow get him unstuck from his trapped point. His arms were out stretched and everything seemed to slow down as he watched in utter terror as three sharp claws came ripping through your chest. Just as he felt his heart plummet within himself, Donnie felt some strange force yank him back through the air, his petrified eyes watching your limp form, his enemies, and your small apartment shrink into darkness. ~ Donnie jolted from his desk, sweat clinging to his forehead and askew glasses wet from tears. Frantically standing straight, he grabbed hold of his metal staff and looked about with a rapidly beating heart. The clicks, beeps, and whirs of the lab brought Donnie back to his senses, and with a shaky sigh he leaned back into his chair with some sense of calm. It was just a dream. A terrible one, but still a dream nonetheless. He removed his fogged glasses, staring at nothing with a racing mind. Donnie hated how real the dream felt. He was beyond thankful it hadn’t gotten to that point, but thinking back to the night that spurred you both to take the next step in your relationship, still sent a shiver up his spine. Had he not walked you home that night, who knows if things would have played out like his subconsciousness dreaded. A soft knock had Donnie nearly jump from his scaled skin once more, but relief washed over him at seeing you in the door way, alive and intact. “Donnie, I thought you said you’d be in bed.”, you worriedly mentioned, but accepting his open arms regardless as his much taller form came forward to embrace you. Donnie held you tightly, taking delight in the calmness your lovely smelling shampoo brought him. “Sorry. I just have a few more things to tweak and then I’ll be done.”, he exhaustingly apologized. A small, frustrated sigh left your equally tired lips, pulling back to look up into those hazel eyes you’d forever have memorized. “Don, you said that same sentence hours ago. Go to bed. Please.” As heavenly as the comfort of his soft bed sounded right now, Donnie couldn’t allow himself to. He had to finish this project. A new device to help keep you safe. If he didn’t, than he felt as though he’d be ensuring his nightmares to become reality, despite his logical sense telling him how truly impossible that was. He wasn’t much for fate, but why tempt it when things like this came to you. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he hasn’t slept. Before you, he’d go days and even a whole week once running on nothing but caffeine and pop tarts. The lean terrapin shook his head, tails of his mask lightly flailing as he’d gently released you to return to his desk. Already, he missed your warmth. “N-no. I can’t. I really have to finish this.” A small pit started to form at the bottom of your stomach as you watched him stumble back towards his work area. You knew what he was working on, and knew that if you didn’t do something, this would be the eighth failed project he’s put all his energy and willpower into to “keep you safe” as he’d put it. At this rate though, the brainiac ninja would work himself into the grave, and you figured it was high time to step in and save him for once. Donnie stiffly reached for his abandoned glasses, when out of nowhere small hands snatched them from their perch upon some random notebooks. The ninja turtles head whipped around to watch you shove them into your shirt, a defiant look on your face as he audibly groaned. “(Y,n) please, give them back.”, he lightly demanded, trying to not let his mind wonder to his homemade prescriptions current imprisonment. You shook your head, holding up a single digit. “On one occasion. I’ll give them back, but only if you come to bed!” Donatello eyed you, weighing this proposal. You had that determined glint to your lovely (e,c) eyes, and he knew there really wasn’t much of a choice. You could be hard headed just like his red banded brother, sometimes even more so. Knowing this, Donnie decided to agree, but once you’d eventually fall asleep, he’d grab his glasses and sneak off back to the lab. Would you be mad when you wake up? Most likely, but he was doing this for you. So said turtle gave a defeated exhale of agreement and felt his heart skip a beat at the adorable, triumphant smile that you held. It didn’t take long to reach your newly established room, it being rather close to his and the lab, and just as quickly as you’d both arrived, you were both situated under the warmth of an extra large comforter. You both lay there in silence, the brown noise of the enclosed portion of the lair filling in. That and paired with the soft glow of your glowing star stickers decorated across the walls, you’d hoped it would help ease your beloveds mind. Yet, when you peaked an eye open to catch the ninja turtle eyeing his glasses you placed on the nearby nightstand when you arrived, you sorrowfully frowned. “Hey. . .” Donnie’s gaze flickered to you as you propped yourself up on an elbow to gaze down at his tinted face. “If you really can’t sleep, than at least tell me what’s going on in here.” You reached out to gently tap his forehead, before softly caressing his pebbled cheek. The feeling of your thumb rubbing soothingly just beneath his eye, and the warmth of your palm against his cheek made Donnie’s heart lightly swell, but did little to quell his troubled mind. Was it that obvious? He’d thought he had been so good at concealing the lasting fear these past events had caused him. Normally if he’d burry himself in his work, his brothers would pay him no mind, even if they knew something was up they’d leave him be to get through it. He should have figured you’d be different though. You were always there for him, always seeking him out and making him feel like something more than a shadow in the corner, tinkering away at something so few would ever understand. He wanted to be there for you as well, just as you were now, and so Donnie turned to press his lips gently into the center of your palm. “I. . .I honestly don’t even know where to start. I feel so scattered brain. Normally when my mind gets jumbled like this, I can put my focus into one of my projects and that usually fixes things. Yet, I can’t even seem to focus on any of that this time. All I can think about is, well, that night.” A frown deepened upon your face as you continued to look down towards him, reassuringly caressing his cheek when he turned to gaze back up at you with a shaky breath. “I thought I’d lose you. I’m. . .terrified I will. What if. . .what if I can’t keep you safe? What if it turns out that you get tired of this life? You deserve so much more than this. Moving in with a partner into a new apartment or even a house. Not down into the sewers to hide from people who want to hurt you because of me.” You let Donnie’s words sink in, letting out your own shaky breath and blinking to prevent the formation of on coming tears. “Oh, Donatello. . .” You murmured his name before connecting your lips to his own, staying just long enough to let him know how you truly felt before pulling back ever so slightly. “You will never lose me, because I feel and know that I am always safe with you. Despite whether or not you’ve made me some high-tech gadget. And I don’t need some new fancy apartment or house to be happy. You are my home, and I’ll gladly move wherever as long as you’re there too.” Donnie couldn’t help the smile that warmed its way onto his heated face, and he slowly reached up to hold your own in his much larger hands just as you did to him. Your words found solace deep within not just his heart, but his soul. He’d still always be concerned for your safety, but now it felt like some sort of heavy chain had been lifted from his once jumbled mind. If you truly felt this way, truly believed in him, in the safety and security he provided, than he would too. Donatello met you halfway as you leaned down for another kiss, this one longer and filled with deepened love. Pulling apart, the couple had adjusted, so that you lay comfortably tucked in between his arms and closer to his chest that held the heart which swooned heavily of you. Feeling your warmth against him, hearing your soft breaths, and the remedying sensation your loving embrace gave back was all he needed to ground himself back to reality. To you. With that sense of peace, Donnie felt that he could now actually get some restful sleep.

~xXx~

#got my pc fixed! :D #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse donnie #bayverse donatello #aged up tmnt #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #slight angst #comfort #fluff #request #@samsooney #imababblekat's writing

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 4 months

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🗡️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Ten

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Teasing.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.9k

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You hadn’t been allowed to help with clean up after dinner, Lucky had promptly shooed you out of the kitchen and given Gab the task of distracting you so you didn’t try and sneak back in to help. You liked to think that you knew the men pretty well at this point, you were going on four weeks of living with them. Well, the same could be said for them. They knew the first chance you had, you would put yourself to work. So Gab had dragged you to Shanks room to play a hand of cards or two, however many it took for the dirty dishes to be done.

Gin rummy was one of the first games the men had taught you to whittle time away at sea. You… were not very good at the game. It was a skill based card game and since you were still so new at it, you really didn’t have any skill at all! You let out a soft growl and nearly threw down your cards in frustration.

“This is pointless,” You complained, dipping your head back and glaring at the ceiling of Shanks cabin. It seemed that no matter who you played against, you always ended up losing! “Who even invented this game?”

“No idea, but you’ll get better with practice,” Gab stated, laying out yet another winning hand. You groaned and slumped in place. “And the point is money, Aria. Gambling. Earning a quick Berry.”

“Or losing a quick Berry.” You huffed out, knowing that gambling was a very treacherous game that many a men and woman lost themselves in. You’d seen it from the shadows of Bonn Manor after your mother held a ball. Card games and drinking were a popular event post dancing and you hadn’t understood the passing of Berry at the time… but you did now. Seeing your expression move to one that was far away, Gab prompted you.

“Aria?” He called, pausing in shuffling the cards. You blinked and forced yourself away from the memories of Bonn Manor.

“Sorry what were we saying?” You questioned, your eyes fluttering and fingers drumming on the table. Gab squinted at you.

“I lost you for a moment, what is it? What were you thinking about?” He pushed, not liking how you seemed to relapse into your shell for a few brief moments. You pressed your lips together. “Aria?”

“I was just—” You cut yourself off and took a deep breath. “My mother liked to hold monthly balls in Bonn Manor. Card games were a popular activity after dancing, I never understood why they passed Berry around. At least not until now. It seems to frivolous and wasteful, gambling Berry like it was mere pocket change.”

Gab went back to shuffling the cards, listening to your words and pleased that you were opening up more. He and the rest of the crew knew the basics of your situation, and what kind of personality you had, but no one had heard much about your past. This was the first time you were openly offering to speak about it.

“Did she ever let you participate?” Gab asked, having a feeling that the answer would be no since you had no idea how Gin rummy worked when they first introduced it to you. You softly snorted, remembering the strict timeline your mother enforced.

“No, once the dancing was finished she always declared that I was in need of retiring to my rooms early. She likes to boast that I spend most of my time practicing how to be a lady. Practicing stitching, etiquette, history. I was a dutiful daughter that strived to be the perfect offspring.” The was a bitter note in your voice and the corner of your mouth twitched. “I only know of what went on behind the sitting room doors because I snuck through the servants halls once.”

“Once?”

“I got caught,” You replied, remembering the week you had spent recovering after your mother had beaten you to what had felt like one lash away from death. You’d never tried anything like that ever again. The flashbacks of the welts and bruises haunted you, even to this day. You had never seen your mother so angry. You reached for the stack of cards, taking them from Gab. “It’s my turn to deal.”

Dinner had passed and the dishes washed, so the men were all laying low for the night. Either nursing a beer, sharpening a blade, or practicing some fancy trick, they had cleared out from the main deck. You had been sitting in one of the lounge chairs reading a book Benn had lent you when Shanks approached. Your gaze lifted from the words in front of you and you smiled pleasantly.

“I thought you would have retired yourself to whatever it is that you do at night,” You spoke, observing the red haired man. You were fairly sure that he had mentioned needing to talk to Building Snake about the Red Force’s current course. “Or at least be busy speaking to Snake about our current course.”

“I did talk to Snake,” Shanks replied, leaning against the railing of the ship. “It turned out to be a simple adjustment with the log pose, weather ahead we want to avoid. As for why I am not returning to my latest book, I’m making good on my promise.” Your eyebrow arched at his mention of a promise, and Shanks offered you his hand. “You are going to want to change into something easy to move in for this.”

Wracking your brain for the promise Shanks had supposedly made to you, you closed your book and took his hand. Shanks effortlessly pulled you to your feet and pulled you in the direction of his cabin.

“What promise are you talking about exactly and why do I need to change clothes?” Shanks glanced back at you, lips twitching at the puzzlement on your face.

“You wanted to learn how to use a sword did you not?” Shanks spoke, raising his own eyebrow. “Now’s a good time, full moon with lots of light and the men are settling down for the night so you won’t have an audience. You are going to want to wear something that lets you move around, your pants are a good option. Also, you won’t want a loose shirt, the fabric might get in the way.”

Stopping in front of the door to the cabin, you stared at Shanks with raised eyebrows. He sure got bossy on occasion. Not that you minded. You found it a rather attractive trait of his. Stop it Aria. Clearing your throat, you reached for the door and looked back at Shanks.

“Pants and a non loose shirt, I think Anna picked out some clothing items that match that description. Mentioned it was good for working out, but I have no idea how to work out so…”

“We’ll get there eventually,” Shanks replied before leaving you to change. You watched him disappear before entering the cabin and shutting the door behind you. You hadn’t been able to try out the clothes Anna had said were good for working out yet, and were excited to try something new yet again. Trotting over to your trunk of clothing, you carefully pulled out folded stacks of clothes until you found what you were looking for: a tank top, sports bra, and comfortable cloth pants.

Stripping yourself out of your day clothes, you wrestled yourself into the sports bra and were surprised to find that while it felt constricting, it didn’t make you feel like you were being suffocated. Further pleased with your new clothes, you pulled on the soft pants and admired the fact that the cloth hugged your skin close. You had never seen your legs like this before and felt a sliver of shyness. But you had seen many woman out and about wearing pants like this and even more revealing clothing, so nothing about your outfit was unfit to be worn.

“Stop being such a prude,” You muttered yourself, putting your arms through the armholes of the tank and dragging it over your head. The tank was loose, but not too loose. It was just airy enough that you were sure that you wouldn’t over heat doing whatever vigorous activities working out constituted as. Knowing Shanks, he wasn’t going to overwork you (he certainly still thought you could do with more meat on your bones), you still liked the idea of dressing for the occasion. Some things never change. Since you were going to learning how to use a sword, you figured that it was probably in your best interest to put on your shoes, sneakers rather than your sandals. It would be doubtful Shanks would even humor you wielding a blade with your feet vulnerable, kitchen knifes aside.

Reaching for a hair band, you pulled back your shoulder length lavender hair to keep it out of the way and to stop it from blowing in your eyes. After you had cut it, you had realized that without tying it off, the strands had a habit of flying into your face. Humming to yourself, you slipped out of the main cabin and went in search of Shanks. It was dark out now, but the hanging lanterns on the ship gave off plenty of light. Looking around, you searched for Shanks but couldn’t find him anywhere on the main deck. Perhaps he had migrated to the weather deck?

Walking over to the stairs leading to the upper level deck, you climbed them to see Shanks standing in the middle of the deck, sword in hand. The lights from the lanterns highlighted his red hair as he swung his sword around methodically and with acute precision. You were fascinated with the way it looked like the sword was attached to his hand, and the way his body moved… He had probably been practicing his whole life! Shanks flicked his wrist over his head while turning, and immediately halted in place.

“Aria,” He called, automatically lowering the sword from your direction and promptly sheathing it at his side. “I can say you finally managed to sneak up on me.” He spoke while drinking in what you were wearing. It was by far the most revealing of clothes you had worn to date, trousers that hugged your legs, a tank top that clearly showed your shoulders… and he’d better stop staring at your body. He looked back into your eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, though it is hard to be ready for something I have no knowledge of.” You answered, your brows scrunching as you tried to imagine exactly what went into learning how to wield a sword.

“The fact that you are thinking about it makes you ready.” Shanks said before walking over to the cutlass he’d picked out for you. He picked it up, once again checking its weight and balance, before turning around and offering the handle to you. Your eyes fluttered at the man just handing you a sword before telling you about them, before gingerly reaching for the hilt and grasping it in an awkward pinch of your fingers.

“This sword isn’t nearly as heavy as I thought it would be,” You commented, moving the blade around to get a better look at the sharpened edge.

“First things first,” Shanks began, “Terminology. This is a cutlass, it’s a short sword that is good for quick movements, typically slashing. Not intended for thrusting or stabbing, but slashing. Quick and easy, makes for an easy get away.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Are you insinuating that I will be looking for fights, Captain?” You half heartedly accused, Shanks snorted at you and moved to stand next to you.

“Perhaps not looking for them, but they might go looking for you,” He corrected you, reaching over with his hand to show you the correct way to hold the cutlass. “You are slight in stature still and it would be in your best interest to use that to your advantage. Being large isn’t always an advantage.”

“And here I was under the assumption that men were of the belief that bigger is better,” Your words slipped from your lips smoothly and with the way your eyelashes flickered as you blinked innocently, Shanks was half convinced you knew exactly what you were speaking of, and it wasn’t size. Don’t open that can of worms Shanks. He cleared his throat and continued.

“Have you ever heard the phrase the bigger you are the harder you fall? Use your size to your advantage. Big doesn’t always equate strength, but big doesn’t equate slowness either…” A dismal point he was making.

“So I should simply be faster?” You offered, your mind thinking about size and speed. A light weight sword would move quick, unhindered by weight. Shanks smiled, already knowing that your mind would keep you out of trouble if you ever did get into trouble.

“Precisely,” He said, his smile turning into a grin. “You are smart and you are fast, having a blade to match will be far more fitting than a heavy broadsword. Now you want to hold it like this, and not grip it too tight. You’ll get cramps up your arm if you do.” From there, Shanks fingers directed your own to wrap around the hilt of the cutlass, showing you how to properly hold it, and how to treat it while wielding it.

He stood behind you and reached out with his arm to show you the motions he wanted you to practice, not intentionally swinging the cutlass but moving your entire arm. He made a point that you should never fight with your wrist, because you could injure yourself, and that the golden rule of learning how to wield a sword, was that it was an extension of your arm. It was getting to the point where your arm was beginning to ache from all the repetitive swings you had been doing, and Shanks decided to switch you to some footwork. So he brought out a broom and began poking at you. You clearly didn’t appreciate the sudden prodding and swiftly moved out of range every time he made a jab at you.

“This is entirely unfair!” You exclaimed, dodging another poke from the broom handle while Shanks grinned at you. You were adorably angry and of course, still held the cutlass in your hand. But you refused to swing back at him in revenge and just continued to dodge!

“Wouldn’t be if you swung that sword at me,” He teased you, swiping at your side. You growled when the broom tapped you and glared at the pirate clearly trying to egg you into swiping the cutlass at his body. “You’re not going to hurt me,”

“Shanks!” You hissed at him when he caught your arm with a tap. Your legs were staring to feel heavy from all the prancing around you had been doing and since you weren’t used to this much exercise, your stamina was running on empty. “If I was the one with that broom I swear I would—” You tripped over your own feet dodging the broom and mid twist, began falling backwards with a yelp. Shanks was reacting before you even had a chance to register that he had moved.

The broom drooped from his grasp as his arm shot to your falling body. He swung you around to brace your body against his but in a twist of legs, you both ended up falling backwards. Shanks, at the very least, was glad that he was going down first and could cushion your fall. So hitting the deck, he made sure that you landed on him rather than hard wood. You did with a slight ‘oof’, but thankfully no sounds of pain.

“… I think I’ve reached my limit for the night, lest I stumble overboard.” You spoke after a few moments of silence. Shanks chuckled and gave your waist a light squeeze.

“And you think that I wouldn’t immediately go right after you?” He replied, only antagonizing the pitter patter of your heart further. Oh when you say things like that Shanks… You bit your lip and went to roll to the right so you weren’t still lying on top of the red haired man. He stopped you the moment he got a glimpse of your lower back from your tank riding up. You felt his fingers trace your skin where you once had mottled marks from your mother’s lashing. All that remained were slight echoes of trauma. Marks that would fade in time. Time he wished you didn’t have to wait on.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” You reassured him, rolling back onto your back next to him and twisting your head to look into his eyes. You were still tucked against his side and had a brief thought that it felt nice to be there. Only in your deepest of dreams, Linaria. “They stopped hurting two weeks ago.”

“You should never have been hurt in the first place, Aria,” Shanks softly answered, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions. He still couldn’t understand how a mother could beat her own child to the point blotched bruises that had taken weeks to heal. How could any mother beat her child?

“No,” You agreed, “But what happened is in the past, and I only wish to look to the future. You gave me that.” Your words were only partially comforting because the longer you stayed on the Red Force, the more he didn’t want to see you go and the more he wanted to continue to protect you. But he’d put those thoughts aside for tonight and simply enjoy the time spent with you during your first lesson.

“As you wish madam,” He finally spoke up, making you roll your eyes once more before looking straight up at the stars.

“They seem especially bright tonight,” You commented, making no motion to move away from his side. Shanks turned his head to admire the stars along with you, enjoying your chosen closeness and comfort. It wasn’t until Shanks arm began to fall asleep from your head resting on his bicep that he realized you had dozed off.

Date Published: 2/2/23

Last Edit: 2/2/23

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#shanks x you #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #red haired shanks #shanks #opla shanks #opla

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elisysd · 3 months

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Prologue

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You did it. You couldn’t believe it but after years of studies, weekly mental breakdowns and a coffee addiction that remained up to this day, you managed to land a position in the journalists team that were covering the F1 as well as F2 GP for the french television. You had fought tooth and nails for this position and you were delighted to join them. You would work in the media pen, interviewing the drivers after their races and outside of them during media day. It was going to be a lot of work and you knew that you were going to be underpressure a lot, but you had met the team and they were all so welcoming with you that anxiety was quickly replaced with anticipation.

So here you were, waiting with the team, in the Orly airport, to board your flight. The check in had been done, you were going over a few details with Marion who would be your guide for the first few weeks. you were not going to be thrown to feed the lions totally unprepared. Beside the media pen, you were also in charge of social media. You would be the one doing live-streaming on Instagram after the Grand Prix to debrief the races and the weeks when no Grand Prix would happen, you would be doing live-streaming on Twitch, inviting viewers to talk about the season a bit more in depth. A lot of work is on the horizon, but damn, you couldn’t wait.

“So Y/N, how do you feel about your first GP? Is there one driver you can’t wait to interview,” asked you Jean.

“Lewis, for sure. I just want to know what is in the mind of a seventh world champion. How he prepares for a race, his analyses. He has such a calm vibe around him.” you replied instantly. You admired Lewis a lot, not only because of his performances but also because of the values he carried and how he changed the sport.

“And the one you are dreading to interview?” asked Marion.

You took a little pause to think about the question. You didn’t dread to interview anyone. You were excited to meet all of them.

“Maybe Lance. Not because I don’t like him, it’s just that he seems very closed off. He doesn’t like the media and his answers are always short. It’s a bit intimidating.”

“You’ll be fine, don't worry. You will need a little bit of time to adjust to each driver and team's ways of replying to the media but you’ll be good. You wouldn’t be here if you were not.” reassured her Jean.

“Red Bull is probably the worst team to interview. They are controlling everything, each interaction is planned. Jean, do you remember that time, I think it was back then when Ricciardo was still at RB and we wanted to make a long interview for the Australian GP? We had to do so much back and forth between the PR team and ours. But we managed to have ten minutes on the Saturday right after qualifying.”

“You were determined to have him. I remember you saying that you wouldn’t get any sleep until you had booked an interview with him.”

“And I did it. This is what this job is about, not giving up. You are going to be confronted by some real assholes out there, you will have to play dirty sometimes but at the end of the day, it’s all good memories and when the audience is saying that the interview was nice, then you know that it was worth the effort.”

You nodded. You knew what being a woman working in the journalism field was like. Your internships had shown you that sexism was huge in this job and even more in sport journalism. You had been one of the few girls that were following the sport journalism specialization in your college. You had done your last year of college in New York as your school was a partner with one there and you also learned the hard way that no matter the country, the same problems were remaining. Your time there was something you would like to forget. It was awful. Being away from your family, being under pressure a lot because of the school and the prestigious internship you had landed there... It had been hard, but it had made you strong enough to endure what would be coming your way. At least, you hoped so.

Charles knew that this season was going to be complicated and that there was no chance of him winning the championship. The pre tests went awfully wrong and he felt right from the get go that the car had several problems. He just hoped that they would still be able to fight for a good result in the constructor championship.

He had spent a long time talking to Fred, trying to get reassurance and what would be the plan from now on. He trusted him. He had been so happy when he learned that he would replace Mattia. He had thought that maybe things would finally turn in his favor, that he would be the first driver in the team. But even that had been crushed pretty quickly when Fred told him that his priority was not to feed his drivers ego but to rebuild the team. It was, then, a pissed off Charles who joined his friend Joris and a few other drivers like Pierre Gasly, Alex Albon, Lando Norris and George Russell for a drink before starting the first race week of the season. He needed to forget the tests of pre pre-season.

“So should we expect to have a nice fight between you and Red Bull?” asked Pierre to his best friend.

“No. I don’t feel good while driving. I feel like it’s unpredictable and I don’t like that.” confessed the Monegasque.

“I fear that Red Bull will be particularly strong this year.” added George, as a matter of fact.

“They showed off during the tests. What will it be during the actual race? One thing for sure, it’s not the McLaren that will put up a fight. It’s a shitbox.” said Lando.

They kept talking about their cars and the first race of the season until late in the night.

The next three days, Charles spent them between intense training and meetings with the team. He didn’t see the time flying and soon it was time for him to wear his Ferrari team’s merchandising and to put on a nice face in front of the camera, pretending that he liked the car and was ready for the season.

After a press conference that he thought was way too long, he had to go in front of the journalists. On his way, on his scooter, he met Pierre who was coming back from the media pen, whistling.

“So, how was it? Any new faces among the journalists?” Charles asked.

“It was the same as usual. The same questions from everyone and I feel like a broken record, having to repeat myself to I don’t know how many news outlets and TV channels. And yeah, the french TV has a new girl. It striked me because she is really young. Not more than twenty-five for sure. But nice questions. Different ones. It was nice.”

Saying that you were stressed out and on the verge of panicking was an understatement. You were pretty confident the night before, when you were lying in your bed, thinking about today and all the questions you had prepared after watching the testings. You were proud of your questions, you had sent them to Marion so she could check them out and add her comments, which she did. She helped you make your questions sharper and clearer. You didn’t have much time to ask them so they needed to be short and precise. You had reworked on them, following her advice, and you were happy about how they turned out.

But crossing the journalists’ entry in the paddock, you could feel the nerves kicked in and suddenly you felt like an impostor. You were too young, you had just graduated, you had little experience and they gave you such a big responsibility. It was too much. You felt your breath caught in your throat and your vision blurring until a reassuring hand was pressed on your shoulder.

“I know what you are thinking. Don’t. You deserve to be here. You wouldn’t have been hired if we didn’t believe in you.” Marion whispered in your ear.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you are a woman. It means that the interviews you had to go through were twice harder than the ones men went through. And you managed to beat them. So you got this. And I’ll be here, you won’t be alone.”

“Thanks Marion.” you said, thankful for her kind words.

And the interviews went well. You quickly forgot the stress and soon you were in your zone. Ready, confident, determined. When Lewis approached you tried to not let the fan inside you come out to the surface. It was not the time. You could see him slightly flinched when you mentioned the last season and the several car problems he had. You assumed that he was not very happy with your question, but you didn’t care. You weren’t there to ask pointless questions. You were there because you wanted to know what went through their minds, not to sugarcoat things. After Lewis, it was time for Pierre and you were happy but nervous to conduct the interview in French.

“So Pierre, you are in a whole new team that was fourth in the championship last year. You come from a back of the grid team, how do you feel about this new challenge?”

“I’m happy. I’m still getting used to how things work but I’m really excited and I can’t wait to work with everyone and get to know the team better during the season.”

“What are your goals?”

“Winning races, trying to bring the best points for the team. You said it, Alpine was fourth last year so the goal is to keep this position and maybe fight with the top teams. That could be great.”

His PR officer signaled that the time was off and he made his way out of the room. They had a few minutes before the next group of drivers would come into the room. You turned to Marion who was next to you, watching you conduct the interviews.

“So, how was I?” you asked.

“Great! You definitely were better by the end of the session. I could feel your nerves at the beginning.”

“I’m going to go outside to breathe. It’s so crowded here.”

You took your bottle of water and headed to the exit. It was so hot outside but definitely hotter inside. You were fumbling with your bag, trying to reach for your notes when you heard a huge ‘watch out’ coming from your left. You didn’t have much time to react as you felt a scooter hitting you and a man, dressed with a red tee shirt, looking very sorry and rushing towards you.

Author's note: Here it is, the prologue of my new fic I Can See you! It will be shorter than what you are used to coming from me. Less chapters, less longer as well. I hope you will like it as much as I do!

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora

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imtrashraccoon · 5 months

Text

Uh, this one I had planned from the beginning and I honestly love how it turned out. It definitely got away from me though.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Vibe Check

Word Count: 1,865

As you entered your apartment, you closed and locked your front door. For a moment you debated putting the deadbolt in place before just doing it, as you never knew what could happen nowadays.

With a sigh, you slipped off your shoes and hung up your coat. Today had been exhausting and your back was killing you from sitting in those office chairs for so long. Still, you could relax now, at least until you had to return to the dreaded grind tomorrow morning. The moment you turned around though, you gasped.

Dust was sitting on your couch.

His skull was propped by his arms and he was hunched forward in a way that couldn't be comfortable for long. He was sitting so still, that you couldn't tell if he even knew you were there or not.

"Hey... Are you okay, buddy?" you asked carefully.

He shifted and glanced up at you, although he was still clutching his skull with his gloved hands. Did he have a headache? There were dark grooves underneath his eye sockets reminiscent of eye bags that humans got when they didn't sleep well. His mismatched eyelights seemed quite as well and almost glossed over, like he wasn't quite focusing on you, or anything else for that matter.

His gaze seemed to pierce through to your soul and yet, he said nothing. It was almost as if the person you knew as Dust wasn't actually there at the moment and you were looking into the hollow eye sockets of a husk.

"Oh boy... I'm gonna guess that you've had a rough day so far."

He didn't respond.

You shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze and looked around for anything that might solve the mood of Mr. Spooky Scary. "Do you...mind if I just go get changed out of these work clothes? I'll be right back, okay?"

You didn't expect an answer and didn't receive one either. So, you decided to just give him a bit of space for a few minutes while you settled down a little now that you were home. At least he seemed passive at the moment and not hostile like you'd previously witnessed.

Once you were in comfy clothes, you re-entered the living room and found Dust in much the same position you'd left him in. You elected to unpack your bag and put things away though before trying to interact with him further.

Although, you couldn't help hating the silence and decided to try to engage in conversation with him. "I had a bad day too. I mean, it probably wasn't as bad as yours but still... I get it," you said quietly.

No response.

"One of my coworkers neglected to finish a report last week and the client practically raised hell until we got it done. So the big boss has been on us all day."

You sighed and shook your head, "It's frustrating getting punished for a problem an idiot caused that I had no involvement in."

Dust was still ignoring you, or at least, you couldn't tell if he was actually listening or not. Maybe you should try cheering him up? Although, you'd have to do something to shock him out of his current staring contest with the floor first.

You had to be careful not to startle him too badly though as you generally quite liked being alive. Plucking a small throw pillow from its place on the couch, you hesitated for a moment before actually following through with your "prank."

You lightly smacked the top of his skull with the pillow; not nearly hard enough to hurt of course, just to get his attention.

"Vibe check."

He was startled more than you'd expected and sort of jumped to get away from your rather pathetic assault. His eyelights flickered wildly before focusing on you and his expression morphed into one of annoyance.

"what are you-!?"

You hushed him with an outstretched finger and pursed your lips in a thoughtful way. "Hm...your vibe seems...annoyed and bewildered," you said in the most serious tone you could muster.

"no kidding! do you have no survival instincts or something?!" Dust growled.

You tilted your head and pretended to think for a moment. "Huh... Considering Axe once asked me pretty much the same question, no... I think they're probably broken, at least when it comes to skeletons anyways."

He stared at you in disbelief before collapsing back against the backrest of the couch. "well that explains a lot..." he muttered and ran a gloved hand over his face.

You frowned slightly as you studied him. It really bothered you to see him, or anyone for that matter, upset like this. He'd come here on purpose though so that must mean he actually wanted to be with you. However, you were a little confused why, as he hadn't been exactly nice in the few interactions you'd had so far with him.

Sitting down on the couch next to him, you reached over and gently put your hand on his arm. "I'm sorry for scaring you like that just now, Dust. If you need to talk about whatever's bothering you, I'm here, okay?"

He shook his skull and remained silent.

You stayed there for a few seconds but when he didn't respond further, you decided to let it go. You'd tried, but if he didn't want to tell you, then you couldn't make him. Just as you withdrew your hand though, he seemed to realize that you'd actually touched him and his mismatched eyelights flicked over to you.

"how do you do that?"

"Do what?"

He vaguely gestured with his hands in the space between you two. "that...thing... how..." He seemed to be having a hard time articulating his thoughts all of the sudden. "how do you make your intent so...gentle...?"

Now you were also confused. "I don't know? Is it not usually like that?"

He stared at you blankly like you'd just asked an incredibly dumb question. "no...it's not. most humans only utilize it to attack other people."

"Oh."

"did someone teach you or something?"

You shook your head slowly. "No...? I don't have magic so I wasn't ever considered for mage training."

"so you just do this? like all the time and you never noticed? in fact, not even a monster noticed before now?" His tone of voice sounded skeptical but there was also a twinge of disbelief.

"I suppose so..." You crossed your arms when his jaw fell open slightly in shock. "What? I don't have any monster friends besides you and Axe, okay? I'm basically a shut in except for when I need to go to work or go shopping."

"wow...you're actually crazy..." He shook his skull and lightly massaged his temples. "my headache is only getting worse just listening to you..."

"Oh, is that what's bothering you then?" you asked, purposely ignoring his insult.

Dust sighed and frowned at you. "it's one thing i guess...among many others..." he muttered.

You gave him a warm smile in return. "If it'll help you feel better to tell someone, I don't mind."

He muttered something unintelligible and quickly looked away.

"Sorry?"

"fine... just...give me your hand back..." he grumbled.

You raised an eyebrow but held out your hand again.

He hesitated and then reached over, wrapping his pinkie finger around your own. You didn't make any comment and just waited patiently.

"do you know what lv is?"

His voice sounded rather hollow all of the sudden, like all previous emotions had bled away, and you felt a small chill pass down your spine. You did know what LV was, or at least you vaguely knew, thanks to general magic education in school anyways.

"Yeah," you murmured. "Levels of Violence, right?"

He nodded slowly. "do you know what happens to someone with too much lv?"

You didn't like where he was going with this, but you had basically promised to listen to whatever he had to say and weren't about to back out now.

"I'm afraid I don't... They never covered it in school beyond how bad it was to get."

He let out a bitter sounding laugh. "figures..."

A few moments passed before he spoke again. "it's like an addiction... once you have some, you want more, and more, and more... and if you don't get more...well, you go through withdrawals."

You grimaced at the mental picture his rambling brought on. It sounded awful to go through and you couldn't help the immense wave of concern for him that washed over you.

"So, that's why you came here?" you asked.

"yeah..." he murmured, although his voice sounded a little hoarse all of the sudden. "my skull feels like it's gonna explode and my idiot colleague was being annoying."

"Can I try to help you?"

He looked over at you again with surprise almost plastered across his skull. It disappeared quickly and he regained his trademark neutral expression.

"sure, whatever, knock yourself out..." he said with a shrug.

You went to stand up but hesitated when you realized his pinky was still linked with yours. He noticed as well and quickly pulled his hand away, ducking further into his hoodie as he did so. You restrained yourself from teasing him over this school kid behaviour, for now anyways.

First thing on the agenda was to make the room darker and you turned out the lights except for the one in the kitchen for now. It wasn't too dark outside yet, although you didn't want to potentially trip over something when it did get.

"Do you want some water or maybe tea?"

"water's fine."

"And do you prefer an ice pack or a hot bean bag?"

He seemed to mull this over for a moment. "ice pack would be better," he finally said with a shrug.

You disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the items. The ice pack was easy to prepare and the glass of water was even easier. After you'd wrapped the ice pack in a soft cloth, you returned to the living room with the water.

Dust glanced up when you approached but said nothing. You sat down and gave him the items, which he excepted and downed half the water in moments.

You couldn't help but stare at him as he did so. Where did the liquid go? Was he like a bottomless pit or something?

He quickly noticed your staring and shot you a weird look. "what?"

You felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment and shook your head. "Sorry...I was just thinking is all," you muttered.

A moment later though, you had a question. "Would a head massage be of any benefit for you?"

He seemed actually intrigued by this and pondered it over for a moment. "can't hurt i suppose."

"Then just turn a little so I can actually reach you, okay?"

You spent the next few hours just sitting together in relative silence. Dust was surprisingly mellow considering your first encounter and he basically just tolerated whatever you did. When supper time came, you got up to go make something for the both of you.

He was gone when you turned to ask if he had any particular food preferences though.

#badsansuary #raccoons drabbles #undertale #dusttale #dust sans #dust sans x reader #reader #female reader #have some empathy dear #oneshot

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littledollll · 1 year

Note

Can I please request a Larissa x English teacher reader. R has mental health issues and had a habit of isolating themselves when it gets bad but because of having Larissa they haven't done this in a few yea

R ends up having a really bad week (they overheard students or teachers making fun of them/their teaching) because of this they end up isolating for a few weeks causing people to be really concerned.

Larissa eventually finds r hiding in a fort they made in an abandoned part of the school with a pile of books they've been using to escape their thoughts.

Ends with Larissa comforting r while they explain what's been happening with them and Larissa tells them how perfect they are and that they are valuable and that she loves them?

Comfort crowd

Larissa weems x teacher!reader

A/n: Im so sorry this took so long, writers block is kicking my ass recently Omg. I kinda like this though and I hope you do too! Thank you for your request.

Warnings: self isolation, students being little shits (but they love u) idk what else.

Mental health had always been an issue for you, something you’ve learned to handle over the years but Larissa had never seen you like this. One of the many reasons you fell inlove with her was because of how she made all your problems feel so much lighter, you felt safe and understood by her and she was always more than happy to help and support you through anything.

Lately it’s been getting worse. The pressure around you was too much and the new batch of students this year really did a number on you. They were impossible to deal with, and you’ve overheard them openly complain about you and your class. It’s never unusual for students to complain but never had it felt so personal, they were directly criticizing the class.

At first you ignored it, you kept showing and doing your classes but the more tired you seemed the more they decided to misbehave and make class impossible. It felt like they were directly trying to upset you, round of applause for them because it worked. One day you just stopped showing up.

At first the students were happy, who doesn’t love a free hour? But as the days passed they started getting concerned, they never really hated you all that much, but it was fun to mess around and not get work done, and maybe have a laugh whenever you were visibly frustrated. After a week of not hearing from you they came to Larissa about it.

She mentioned she was already aware and currently searching for you since you stopped meeting with her for your usually lunches together and date nights.

It wasn’t long before she found you, hidden away in the old and abandoned music room, the lights worked but barely. You had a comfortable little spot set up, books everywhere, a kind of fort sent up with the chairs in the room effectively hiding you from anyone who didn’t look too close. There wasn’t much around you but it was clear this is where you had been for the past week.

Larissa didn’t want to disturb the peace you had created for yourself, but she was concerned never had she seen you run away, much less completely disappear. Yes sometimes you’d take days off and keep the rest of the world out but back then you still let her in, so what happened that caused you to shut her out too?

Her hand raised and she knocked on one of the chairs announcing her presence, snapping you out of your concentration as you sat on the floor reading one of the many books with you.

“You’ve built yourself quite the hideaway.” Larissa was first to speak, you were met with that trademark beautiful and comforting smile only she seemed seemed to have. Nodding, you have her a sad smile back, though in your eyes she saw relief at the sight of her.

She looked to the space next to you, silently asking to be let in to your little comfort bubble, again you nodded, and as soon as she sat down her hands cupped your face, trying to get a good look at you, you hummed, leaning into the warmth of your touch.

“What happened, my love?” The dreaded question. How could you tell her the job and kids she loved so much were eating away at you. Draining you until you simply couldn’t show face. “The students were asking about you, some made their way to your room trying to check up on you as well.”

“They sure didn’t act like they cared how I was when I was present, they don’t care for the class and certainly don’t respect me, I hate to admit how much it got to me.” You sounded bitter, but more than that just hurt. She only pulled her hands away from you to wrap you in a hug, which you happily sank into, God you missed her.

“Why didn’t you tell me if they were acting up?” you sighed and hid into her chest. “What kind of teacher can’t get their room in control so bad they need to call in the principal.”

“Oh many, most of them really! If they aren’t rude and tough from the get-go the students will drive them insane. You are not the first and will not be the last. But they have no real intent to hurt you, I promise you that. I can’t tell you the amount of students who started asking about you on day two of your secret hideaway.”

You looked at her questioningly. Was she being serious? She gave you a nod and continued. “They trust you. They talk to and about you like you’re a friend, sometimes that causes issues, there’s a line that they cross alot. And when you act like more of a teacher than their friend it makes them upset. They’ll get used to it, and we will talk to them.”

“Riss, they make me feel like any attempt I do at doing my job is horrible. How come no other teachers have this problem if it’s so common?” You countered with a sigh.

“Some of them are, some of them did and their solution was to cut being friendly and start being overly strict, and with that you get the issue of being the class after the strict teacher. They get to talk more, have a little more freedom and it makes them lose control.”

You do remember hearing them complain about how the biology teacher would take away points, quote “any time we breathe too loud”. You always thought teachers like that were horrible.

“You are doing nothing wrong, my love. They need to learn control and respect and we will work on that together. You are an extremely valuable member of this school, to staff, to your students and most of all to me. You don’t need to hide from me darling, I’m here to help, support and love you. Allow me to do so.”

And just like that Larissa Weems yet again, made all your problems feel lighter. You didn’t have to handle anything alone, not as long as she was here.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fluff #Larissa weems comfort #principal weems #wednesday nevermore

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shion-yu · 15 days

Text

Day 11: Passing out

Using @medwhumpmay to finally finish this full length Shu sickfic! 5,065 words. Written for my @badthingshappenbingo space “Working Through the Cold” and inspired by this prompt by @snzzenby641 “A horrid boss with an equally horrid cold being less than careful with their germs.” CW: Contagion, mild mess, sneezing, coughing, fever, stuffy talk, ft. Shu’s 14 y/o son.

The second Shu hears his boss sneezing, he knows he’s going to catch whatever it is that’s causing it. He’s never had a very good immune system to begin with, but it was when he was in college that his body seemed to have made the decision to no longer put up a fight against any cold that passed by him. This is a particularly bad thing for Shu because even though he has enough PTO to go on vacation for a month, his boss, Harrison, often denies even more reasonable time off requests.

Harrison is the type to work through a cold, and therefore he expects everybody else to as well. Shu’s not sure what one would have to do in order to be excused for a few days off without getting guilt tripped into coming back early - perhaps a catastrophic earthquake would do. As long as the office was still standing, probably not. Harrison lacks the trait of empathy, Shu thinks, but in a competitive market this is an advantage.

“WEI!” Shu already knows he's in trouble by the way Harrison is screaming his name. He's been trying to avoid being in close contact with his boss all morning in some attempt to avoid Harrison’s very contagious sounding sneezes, but once he enters the lion's den it’ll be all over for him. Shu sighs, straightens his tie out, and knocks on the door of Harrison's office before entering.

"Yes sir?" Shu says, standing up straight.

"Took your sweedt timb," Harrison says, his normally punctuated speech blunted with heavy congestion. He looks pretty bad, Shu thinks. His hair is messy, his eyes are watery and red rimmed, and Shu questions why someone so critical can't tell that he really ought to be in bed right now. Stubbornness, probably. "Your performance review,” Harrison says. “Sit.”

Ah, yes. The dreaded quarterly one-on-one where Harrison points out everything Shu needs to do better and nothing he’s done right. Shu reluctantly sits across from Harrison’s desk, trying not to fixate on the overflowing trash can of used tissues next to him. Harrison lets out several harsh, wet coughs that he only half-covers with his hand, then pushes a small packet of papers over towards Shu with the exact same hand. Shu winces but picks it up and begins reading aloud just how much he sucks at his job, just like Harrison likes it.

Harrison is smirking as usual as Shu reads. He’s definitely a sadist. Otherwise, why would he make them read these in front of him like it’s confession? However he also seems distracted today by the beast of a head cold he has, unable to go more than thirty seconds without sneezing, coughing, or both. He snorts up what sounds like a very thick noseful of mucus up and grunts, rubbing his temple. If he wasn’t such an ass, Shu would feel bad for him. Instead he just feels doomed.

Once Shu finishes reading his review, Harrison asks him the required follow up questions that he always does. “Would you agree with your review? Whadt can I do better as your boss?” Snort. “How would you rate yourself?”

The thing is, answering any of these questions with honesty is a surefire way to be working overtime for the next several weeks. So Shu just answers pleasantly, as he’s supposed to: “It sounds good. Nothing. I’d say I could improve in the areas you mentioned in my review.”

Harrison nods in approval. Believe it or not, Harrison actually likes Shu. He’s a hard worker, he doesn’t cause problems, and he never asks for raises. Shu is the quintessential office grunt as far as Harrison is concerned: quiet and obedient. The people who aren’t? Don’t last very long around here.

Shu, on the other hand, has lasted at this company for over ten years. He’s the longest working consultant for this marketing firm’s location and he even started before Harrison. Shu only has a bachelors, though, so he’s never been promoted to anything farther than senior marketing consultant. He doesn’t supervise, he doesn’t make big decisions, and he most certainly does not make waves.

That is, until he suddenly became a single father to an unruly twelve-year-old who needs Shu’s attention constantly. Shu took unexpected parental leave for four weeks when Alex came to live with him, much to the disdain of Harrison. And when he came back, Shu was different. Work was no longer the number one thing on his mind. These days, Shu answers his personal phone during work in case he has to leave when the school calls him because Alex has caused trouble again, which happens often. He gets sick way more frequently because he’s not used to kid germs and he’s always tired, leading to little mistakes in his paperwork that he always would have caught before. His black hair is quickly turning gray and for the first time in Shu’s life, he cares more about another person than his corporate job.

For Shu, this change is good. Raising Alex is tough, sure, but it’s rewarding and an experience he never would have had otherwise. He loves Alex and doesn’t mind that his relationship with work is changing.

Others don’t agree. Namely, Harrison.

So when Shu comes the following week sniffling and sneezing every few minutes just like Harrison was, all he gets in response is annoyance. In fact, Harrison seems to have complete amnesia about the part where he undoubtedly gave Shu this hell of a cold with his less than stellar public health habits and actually seems to be punishing Shu with more work. He tosses a large folder of paperwork on Shu’s desk and says, “I need this before you leave today.”

Shu has his nose buried in an over-used tissue, the rough ones that the office provides that were the cheapest money could buy. “Yes sir,” he mutters into it. His nose is chapped and bright red from blowing it into the sandpaper-quality tissues all morning.

Mathias comes up shortly after with a bottle of DayQuil and a look of abject pity. “You shouldn’t have even come in,” he says matter of factly.

“Too late,” Shu croaks. His voice is going already and speaking causes him to fall into a fit of harsh coughing. He doubles over, pushing his wheeled office chair backwards from the desk and coughing, and coughing. He’s not sure he can stop.

He feels Mathias’ hand on his back and a bottle of water is shoved into his grasp. “Drink,” Mathias orders.

Shu does. The cool liquid burns as it goes down his raw throat, but it’s also soothing and he finally manages to stop coughing. Mathias cringes just observing him - darker than usual circles under the eyes and greasy hair is not a good look for Shu. “Dude. Go home.”

Shu shakes his head, motioning to the stack of papers on his desk. “Can’t,” he rasps. “I’ll probably have to stay late finishing this stuff.” At least Alex is fourteen now and Shu trusts him enough to stay at home by himself for a few extra hours. When Alex had first come to live with him, nearly two years ago now, Shu had been terrified to leave him alone for even a second.

“Give me half, I’ll help,” Mathias says. He doesn’t wait for Shu to deny him - which he knows Shu will - and snatches the two top binder clips full of paperwork off Shu’s stack of many. Shu nods, unable to bring himself to fight back when he’s feeling this lousy.

By the end of the regular work day, Shu’s sure he won’t get out of here until at least seven, maybe eight PM. He’s working slower than usual thanks to how much his head aches and how many breaks he’s had to take to sneeze and cough himself into seeing black spots in front of him. His arms and even his fingers hurt, the hair on his own head prickling uncomfortably as if affected by static electricity. He’s also freezing and has resorted to swearing his jacket over his usual business attire, but he doesn’t think it’s done much to warm him up.

“You definitely have a fever,” Mathias tells him. “Harrison can find someone else to do this shit.”

“I’m already on thin ice,” Shu says weakly.

“So? He gave you this plague,” Mathias says. But Harrison is his boss too, and he knows just as well as Shu that that’s not how it works around here. He himself only stays at this job for the health insurance, and because he has twin baby girls and a wife at home to make a living for.

“Wei,” a sharp voice makes them both jump in their office chairs. Shu resists letting out an exhausted sigh.

“Yes sir?” Harrison is standing a few feet away from him, coat on and ready to go right on time as usual. What he has to rush off to, no one knows given the man’s perpetually single and lives alone.

“I still expect that paperwork on my desk by the time I come in tomorrow,” Harrison says. “And remember we have the board meeting tomorrow at nine, so don’t be late.”

Shu forgot about the board meeting. He also wants to throw up at the idea of presenting his numbers in front of his seniors when he feels like even standing up is a bad idea right now. He swallows and nods numbly.

Mathias attempts to defend him. “Sir, I don’t think Shu will be able to come in tomorrow, he’s sick as a dog,” he says. Shu feels a rush of emotion that Mathias still defends him like this, even though he’s younger and has no reason to stick his neck out for Shu when he also needs this job.

“I expect a hospital note if he’s that sick,” Harrison says sharply. He glares at both of his underlings who don’t respond again. Then he stalks out of the office to enjoy his night beginning on time without any kids to take care of at home.

Mathias shakes his head, muttering profanities under his breath. Shu just coughs, whispers, “Thank you,” and goes back to his work.

It turns out that thanks to various errors in the data, Shu stays in the office until past nine that night. Mathias leaves around seven, apologizing profusely but Shu brushes him off and says he’s done more than enough to help. Mathias has a family waiting for him at home and a wife who won’t be very happy if he’s any later than he already is. Then Shu’s left alone in the office space, which feels even colder at night and the only sounds to listen to are the clicks of his keyboard and his own miserable sniffling.

He calls Alex to let him know he won’t be able to come home until later, apologizing and telling him to order whatever he wants for delivery food. Alex seems annoyed and just says, “Fine,” before hanging up. Shu rubs his painful sinuses in exasperation and hopes Alex isn’t too angry.

Once he’s sure the numbers are to perfection, Shu finally slaps the pile of completed paperwork on Harrison’s desk and drags himself home. When he leaves the office building it’s dark. The cool night air hits his skin and makes him shiver, then cough. He stumbles a little in the doorway and presses his now burning face into the entryway, letting a self indulgent groan escape from his lips. He feels like shit, he has an angry teenager to go home to, and he has to be back here in less than ten hours to prepare for that board meeting. He lets himself think, ‘I’m not sure I can do this,’ for another thirty seconds before standing up, slapping his hot cheeks and shaking it off. It’s just a cold. His kid and work come first.

Shu drives home without incident, although by the time he pulls into the driveway the flow of undeterred snot has made its way all down his chin. He’s disgusting. He wipes his face with his suit jacket sleeve - which he immediately regrets because now he needs to get it dry cleaned before he can wear it again - and stumbles into the house.

The first stop he makes is Alex’s bedroom to make sure his son is fed and safe. He knocks and cracks the door, peaking in to see the teenager sprawled on his stomach in bed reading a book. Just a bit of the tension he’s held in his shoulders all afternoon dissipates.

“Sorry I’mb so late,” Shu says. His voice is barely there and it hurts to speak. He feels as if he’s gargled rocks. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” Alex says, not looking up. Shu knows he’s mad about his being late.

“What’d you get?” Shu asks, leaning against the doorframe because his legs are starting to feel like jello and his head is spinning.

“Pizza,” Alex answers. “I left some for you.”

“Thanks bud,” Shu says. His face suddenly scrunches up and he lets out two very loud, very wet sneezes into his suit jacket sleeve, since it’s already a lost cause. “Excuse mbe.”

Alex does look up finally, a punctuated frown on his face. “You shouldn’t have stayed late if you’re already sick,” he points out accusingly.

“I know,” Shu sighs. But it’s not like he had any choice. Alex doesn’t quite understand that though - Shu never tells him about his job, or his boss, or how much Harrison’s grown to dislike him ever since Shu decided Alex was his priority over his desk job. The kid has enough things to worry about without being made to feel like a burden. “Im’b gonna stick to mby room, don’t want you to catch this alright? Do you need adnything though?”

“No,” Alex says. Shu takes this as his cue to leave the surly teen alone, but Alex adds when he’s halfway out the door, “You gonna stay home tomorrow?”

Shu shakes his head no, coughing meanwhile. “Meeting, but if I can come home early I will,” he says when he manages to catch his breath again. Alex doesn’t say anything else, but his mouth is set in a thin, disapproving line. “Goodnighdt,” Shu says, then shuffles off to his bedroom where he is finally able to let out the torrent of violent sneezes he’s been holding back since he got home. He feels dizzy with the release and blows his nose with blessedly softer tissues than the ones he was forced to use at the office, barely possessing the energy to get into sleep clothes before collapsing on bed.

He knows he should eat and probably take medicine, but he’s one hundred percent spent. He doesn’t think he can even get to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he just needs to sleep immediately. He passes out with the lights still on and his blankets clutched tightly around him, shivering.

What feels like ten minutes later, his six AM alarm goes off. Shu cannot fathom how this is possibly correct, but the clock on his bedside table states otherwise. The sharp tone of his alarm feels like it’s stabbing him in the head with every beep and Shu turns it off with a loud groan - which turns into a series of miserable coughs that sound even more congested than yesterday. He can feel all the nighttime mucus in the back of his throat crackling and breaking up as he coughs, which hurts like someone slapping rubber bands against his throat.

Still, Shu drags himself upright, throws on the first suit he can find that isn’t covered in snot, and half heartedly fixes himself up in the bathroom. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and cringes because he looks absolutely awful. His face is pale white and he needs a shave and a shower badly. The energy required to complete these tasks is nowhere to be found though, so he settles for splashing some sink water on his face and calls it good enough. When he blows his nose, it seems there is no end to the thick, greenish snot that comes out.

Alex isn’t awake yet, but the high school is three blocks away so he walks. Besides his suspensions, Alex has good attendance and Shu doesn’t worry about him skipping school. He’s a good kid, despite what some of the guidance counselors believe. Shu fixes Alex his lunch as always, although he forgoes preparing anything with his bare hands and just throws in an accumulation of pre-packaged goods and gives it a spritz of Clorox spray too. Alex rarely gets sick, but Shu doesn’t want to take any chances.

By seven Shu’s out the door, stumbling over his own feet to the garage and praying he makes it to work safely. He feels miserably sick, he can’t even pretend to deny it. But he also feels like he has no other choice but to show up after Harrison made such a point about coming to the meeting yesterday.

When he gets to his desk, Mathias is already at his and his expression leaves nothing to the imagination when he sees Shu. “Jesus Christ, get out of here,” he says.

Shu sneezes in response. “I’d love to,” he croaks. He practically collapses into his office chair, head spinning.

Mathias strides over to him and slaps a hand on Shu’s forehead, unfazed by the way Shu startles. It’s this behavior that made Shu first fall in love with the guy, Shu thinks hopelessly. It’s an unrequited, decade-long crush that will never, ever go anywhere. Shu was the best man at Mathias’ wedding for goodness sake. Best friends is good enough. “You’ve got a hell of a fever,” Mathias says disapprovingly. “Maybe you should go make a show of being a plague rat in Harrison’s office. He might kick you out.”

Shu forces a weak smile at him, closing his eyes and just letting himself enjoy the touch of a cool hand for a few indulgent seconds. Mathias lets go all too soon and hands him a bag of cough drops. “Thought you could use these, I brought them from home.”

“What would I do without you?” Shu murmurs tiredly. Mathias pats his shoulder and goes back to his desk. The cough drops are lemon and honey flavored, which are Shu’s favorite. There was a time several years ago, long before Mathias had a wife and kids, when he and Shu lived together. Mathias must have remembered from back then.

The first hour of the day is spent preparing for the board meeting, during which Shu becomes increasingly uncomfortable. He tugs at his tie and even unbuttons the top two bottoms of his shirt, something that’s unlike him. His coughing is impossible to ignore by anyone in the office, as are his wet sneezes that now come in twos and threes. Yesterday at least they were clearing his sinuses temporarily, but now they just hurt and yet do nothing to fix the blockage in his nose. He’s fully aware that he sounds dreadfully contagious and doesn’t blame anyone for avoiding his desk completely.

Ten minutes before nine, Harrison breezes by Shu’s desk and clears his throat loudly to get Shu’s attention. “Go to the bathroom and pull yourself together,” he orders. “Can’t have you looking like you’re going to die in front of the board.”

“Maybe we’d get a sympathy vote if I do,” Shu jokes weakly, but Harrison’s already across the room. For a short, fat man, he’s awful speedy when he wants to be. Shu pushes himself into a standing position, his arms quivering with effort against his desk. He feels terribly dizzy and keeps one hand on the wall as he finds his way to the bathroom. There he washes his face and tries to tell himself he can do this. He’ll present his brief, hopefully without too much trouble with his voice, and then he just has to wait for the rest of his colleagues to finish. By lunch, he’ll be able to go home and crawl into bed, Harrison be damned.

That’s the plan, anyways. But Shu’s plans rarely work out. The meeting has a lot of important people, including Harrison’s boss and the boss of Harrison’s boss. That’s Shu’s great-grandboss, right? He can’t help but giggle under his breath when he thinks of this ridiculous title. Mathias nudges his from under the desk, a concerned look on his face. ‘Hang in there,’ he mouths. Shu blinks himself back to reality where no jokes are allowed at the board meeting.

When it’s his turn, Shu’s stands up and tries not to sway as his vision blurs. “Ahem. Excuse mbe in advance… I’mb getting over a touch of a cold,” he prefaces, as if he’s not right in the trenches of battle with whatever this hell virus is. “This quarter our numbers have been… impacted greatly by…” He’s interrupted by two sneezes that make the world spin. He reaches for the tissues in his jacket pocket and tries to wipe away the mess without blowing the rest out, which is hard to resist when he can’t breathe through his nose and talk at the same time.

“Egsguse mbe,” he mutters. He knows his voice is cracking and between that and the congestion, he’s not entirely sure his colleagues can actually understand what he’s saying. Does anyone really care, though? Probably not. As he goes on, it gets harder and harder to maintain a natural flow of speech. He’s trying to breathe normally, but instead he feels like it sounds absurdly loud in his ears. Actually, everything is too loud, even though nobody except him is talking.

“Mr. Wei? Are you quite alright?”

Shu blinks hard, trying to focus on whoever just said that. He thinks is Harrison’s boss. Or grandboss, now he can’t remember. He catches Mathias staring at him worriedly and clears his throat. “Perfectly fine. Now… we’ve seen a marked increase in… um, sorry, an increase in sales for products that were… talked about… I mean advertised using our new model of… uh…” Suddenly he can’t remember what that model is. He invented the damn model.

“Mr. Wei.” The voice is more stern this time. Then increases to a shout: “Mr. Wei!”

Shu doesn’t know why the old guy is yelling, or why he suddenly feels like he’s suffocating on hot air. “Just…” He grits his teeth in annoyance. “Just give me a…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, because then suddenly everything goes dark and when he opens his eyes, everybody is yelling. So annoying, Shu thinks to himself. If only they’d just shut up. It’s just sales. It’s really not that exciting.

“Shu, hey pal. Are you with me?”

He recognizes that voice, the one closest to him now. His eyes flutter open and he realizes he’s lying on the floor on his back, Mathias above him with his expression full of concern. “There you are. You’re okay. Take a big breath for me.”

“Ugh… Matty, I don’t feel good,” Shu groans. “Think I’m gonna…” Someone shoves a bin under his chin just in time for him to vomit. There’s not much in his stomach, given he hasn’t eaten a meal since lunch yesterday, but the loud noises that come from his throat and stomach don’t sound so little. Shu whimpers, the board room spinning around him. What was he doing here again? He can’t remember. Was he at work?

“It’s okay, we’re gonna get you taken care of,” Mathias soothes him.

Shu smiles despite himself, his head lolling to the side as if he has no control over it. “You’re always so nice to me,” he mumbles. “I think… my sugar feels low.” Shu doesn’t have diabetes, but he is prone to low blood sugar when he doesn’t eat. He remembers that time, almost eight years ago now, when he fainted at the office. He was sick then, but also had a markedly low blood sugar. Wait…

“Oh shit. Did I faint at the office?” Shu asks wearily, only now realizing he’s still in his work clothes. Now it’s coming back to him. The board meeting… Shu groans. “Oh god. Did I faint in front of everybody?” At least last time nobody had been looking at him when it happened. Especially not an entire room full of all of his bosses.

“Afraid so,” Mathias said. “But I just kicked them out and someone’s waiting for the ambulance. They’ll be here soon.”

“Kill me,” Shu said. He’d fainted and then puked in front of the entire board. That was it, his career was over. He had to quit. “I’m serious, shoot me now.”

Mathias shakes his head, shushing him. “Don’t be so dramatic, you’re probably just dehydrated. You feel like you’re a million degrees, you know that? I told you you should’ve gone home.”

“Yeah, you’re always right,” Shu mutters. He rests his head back down in Mathias’ lap where he’d woken up. “Ugh, my ambulance copay is like, three hundred bucks, too.”

Mathias smoothes Shu’s sweaty hair off his forehead. “Now’s not the time to worry about that, okay?”

Shu closes his eyes. They feel hot and pulsing inside of his skull. “If I’m not out by three, will you make sure Alex is okay? I don’t wanna worry him while he’s at school.”

“Of course,” Mathias says.

The EMTs arrive a few minutes later, Harrison leading them to Shu’s spot on the floor. He’s shivering by then, Mathias’ suit jacket covering him not sufficient to ward off the chills from the fever he’s sporting. They load Shu onto a stretcher after taking his less than stellar vitals and Shu gazes blearily at the office as they walk through it to the elevators, because he’s sure he can never show his face in here again.

“I could probably just sleep it off at home, I don’t think I really need the hospital,” Shu tries to tell them, but they stick an IV in his hand and bring him anyway. There Shu gets Tylenol, a couple liters of fluids that apparently have some electrolytes and sugar, and a dose of IV solumedrol to work on his awful cough. They say it’s probably a viral infection but they’ll send him home on antibiotics anyways, just in case, plus oral steroids. Shu’s still waiting for discharge paperwork when Mathias calls with an update on Alex. He wants to know if Shu’s staying overnight because Alex keeps saying he’s going to leave to sleep at Ryo’s.

“They’re discharging me now, can you guys come get me?” Shu asks. If Alex wants to sleep at Ryo’s that’s fine - Shu knows it’s where he goes as soon as he feels overwhelmed, and Shu being this sick is sure to stress him out - but he’d like to see his son is okay with his own two eyes before then.

Mathias shows up half an hour later, by which time Shu’s dressed, IV removed and scripts in hand. “Alex is in the car,” he tells Shu. “He wants us to drop him off at Ryo’s on the way back.”

“That’s fine,” Shu says. He walks out of the ER on his own two feet this time, still feverish but feeling far better than he did this morning. Whatever “D5NS with KCL” is, he wishes he could keep some handy for all the times he’s feeling weak because he’s pretty sure that’s what helped the most. As they approach the car, Shu can see Alex in the backseat. He’s listening to music with earbuds in, but he pulls one out when Mathias helps Shu into the passenger seat.

“Hey buddy,” Shu says. His voice is still pretty rough sounding, but not talking for most of the hours in the ER helped. “You okay?”

Alex snorts, shaking his head. “I’m not the one who passed out at work.”

“Touché,” Shu says. He’s not sure that’s how the word is supposed to be used, but he’s too tired to care right now. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Alex says quickly, but Shu knows he’s lying. Not that he plans on pointing that out, but he’s aware that Alex cares about everything far more than he likes to pretend. School, Ryo, the fact that Shu still makes him go to therapy once a month even though he says his parents’ death doesn’t bother him anymore. It’s just another reason why Shu feels so fiercely that he has to protect him now.

Alex clears his throat uncomfortably. “Can I sleep at Ryo’s? His dad said it’s fine.”

“Yeah. That’s fine,” Shu says. He’s not sure he would’ve had the energy to argue if for some reason it hadn’t been fine. Thank god for Ryo’s parents and their constant willingness to have Alex over since the beginning. Thank god for Ryo and his calming presence he always seems to have over Alex, despite being the most hyperactive teenage boy Shu’s ever met.

Alex directs Mathias to Ryo’s house and hops out, his backpack for school tomorrow over his shoulder. Alex doesn't look at him, just mutters an uncomfortable, “Feel better,” before disappearing into Ryo’s house. Shu sighs in relief. As long as he knows Alex is fine, he’d rather the kid not be there stressing about him anyways. Mathias brings him home and takes him inside, setting him up in bed with tea, tissues, meds and anything else he could possibly need within reach.

“Thanks Matty,” Shu says tiredly. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“I don't either,” Mathias says, eyeing Shu worriedly. “You sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

“I’ll make it,” Shu says. “Don't worry. I’ll be back at work soon.”

Mathias rolls his eyes. “Not too soon,” he says strictly. “Get some rest.” Then he leaves Shu to his own devices and Shu relaxes, finally in his own bed - where he should've stayed this morning. Oh well. He can't believe how humiliating he is - to pass out at work twice in the span of a few years - but hey, at least no one's going to accuse him of faking. Harrison will guiltily go easy on him for a week, at least. Thank goodness he made it home.

#medwhump may #shionwrites #oc: Shu #oc: Alex #ngl I really like this one it’s just shameless sickfic lmao #and for the anon who asked forever ago for more sick Shu with a slightly older Alex tada #sickfic #illness whump #fever whump #sicknario #sick whump #bad things happen bingo #working through the cold #snz #contagion #oc sickfic #male whump

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precioustarkey · 5 months

Text

journalism at its finest: part two

link to part one is here, read it first!

summary: after getting a surprise phone call from drew, you are eager to finally go on your first date.

warnings: none

the next couple of weeks were met with sparse texts asking what our plans were for the day, when we would be off, what city he was going to next, etc. part of me had lost hope that we would get the chance to see each other. we were just so busy.

my anxiety has since worn off. i realized through our short conversations that no matter how much he changed, he is still the same humble kid he was in high school. we have both grown so much, and though our careers are on opposite ends, i feel as if we can relate to each other.

eventually, i decided to put my feelings aside and come to terms with the fact that drew will most likely remain a memory. soon after, my phone starts to ring. assuming it's a work call, as it usually is, i quickly answer.

"good morning," i say into the phone, awaiting a reply. "good morning, uhm.. i know this is a little out of the blue and maybe not the best time, but are you busy today?" my eyebrows furrow, my mind racing, i pull my phone back to look at the contact name. drew starkey.

"if you consider pacing my apartment busy, then terribly." i can't help but cringe at myself. a light laugh comes from the other end of the phone: "well then, if you send me your address, i'll pick you up in around thirty minutes. dress casual."

i can feel the heat in my cheeks already. skeptical, i reply, "whatever you say, starkey." his smile is almost audible as he says, "i'll take it. see you then."

quickly, i send a text to drew containing my address. almost immediately after i put my closet in shambles. the second i decide what to wear, i brush through my hair and freshen my face.

my phone dings next to me as i am sliding into my shoes. it's a text that reads, "i think i'm outside." perfect timing. i grab my essentials and dart out of the door.

sure enough, when i make it to the street, i see a very conufsed-looking drew sitting in his vehicle. our gazes meet, and we can't help but laugh. he quickly jumps out of the car to help me into the passenger's seat.

"you didn't have to do that," i say as he gets back into his own seat. "i wanted to," he replies grinning, fastening his seatbelt.

"now do i get to find out where you're taking me?" i ask as convincingly as possible. "absolutely not. sit tight," he winks. i can't help but roll my eyes, though we both know i couldn't be more excited.

the ride is filled with laughter and singing. i feel like a kid again, a teenager giddy over absolutely everything. it feels like no time before we're pulling into what looked like a field. i look over suspiciously. "stay right there," he says as he exits the car.

i watch as he fishes something out of the trunk before making his way to my side of the car, opening the door with his cheesy grin still shining. i follow him around the car to see a blanket and basket.

"how did you know i'm a sucker for cliches?" i ask, unable to contain my own grin. "hey, i've looked at your instagram a few times," he replies, holding up his hands for dramatics. my heart races at the thought of him looking over my social media.

we eagerly spread out the blanket and started laying snacks everywhere. i could tell he put a lot of effort into this, and wondered what he would have done if i had really been busy today.

before we knew it, the sun began setting. we spent hours talking, laughing, and really getting to know each other. as we watched the sun set and the stars rise, i realized that i really dreaded going home. i hadn't had this much fun with someone in so long, and it was so refreshing.

after minutes spent in comfortable silence, i spoke first, my voice coming out as nearly a whisper: "drew?' i kept my head toward the sky, but i could see out of the corner of my eye that his head turned to me. "i know it's a little soon, but will you come back to my apartment with me?'

finally, i looked at him. i was trying hard to keep a straight face, but his smile is contagious. "can we get ready for work together in the morning?" he's smirking now. "only if you're not treating your other interviewers like this," i shot back.

laughing, he says, "don't worry y/n, you're like no other." making his way to his feet, he holds out a hand to help me up. as we clean up our mess and make our way back to his car, i feel an overwhelming sense of contentment.

maybe i lied when i said i'd have it done quickly :/

#drew starkey #drew starkey headcannon #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #y/n #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x y/n

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year

Text

Nice To Meet You - Guys Like You | Part I

an interactive top gun fic series! with a poll waiting for you at the end!

summary: Nat introduces you to the squad for the very first time. You expected a lot, but certainly not two of the most drop-dead gorgeous men ever to flirt with you.

6k only a tw for alcohol ig? otherwise just simping. on every and all ends.

guys like you masterlist | top gun masterlist

Nat's keys clanging onto the living room table should have been your first hint that something was not going to be normal about this evening. That she appeared in your doorway instead of vanishing into the shower next was an absolute red flag.

"We're going out tonight", she announced, not a trace of a smile on her face. You turned off your phone with a sigh and propped your head up on your pillow.

"Gee, not even a 'hello' or 'how are you' today, hm?", you asked.

"You need to go out", she went on, completely brushing over your interruption. She was dead-set on giving you a speech, you could tell. She was still sweaty, her hair slicked back, her flight-suit zipped up, but she was looking at you as though she hadn't just been through hours upon hours of what you'd probably call torture. "You've been just sitting in this room for the past two weeks and I can't stand it anymore."

You sat up with another sigh, tugging at your oversized, sauce-stained shirt that you were suddenly much too aware of.

"Nat, please, I need to get settled first."

"You settled a week ago."

She wasn't taking any bullshit today. She had let you off the hook too many times already, up until now swayed by your half-assed arguments of why you were hiding in your bedroom. "You're going out with us tonight."

"Us?", you asked, dreading the answer. Nat didn't have any friends outside of work here.

"Me and the squad", she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

"No", you laughed. "No, definitely not."

She frowned, finally moving out of the doorway and settling at the foot of your bed instead. At least it felt more like an eye-to-eye conversation now.

"It's just the squad", she shrugged.

"Just the squad?", you asked. "Just the squad? Nat, those people fly multi-million-dollar aircrafts on a daily basis, they're all ripped as hell and make thrice the money I made back in San Fran. I don't even have a job."

"First of all, you've applied for jobs, it takes time", she reasoned. (Sometimes you could have slapped her for her rationalism.) "Also I'm one of those people and my job never bothered you before."

You stared at her like she'd gone mad. How could she not get this? Yes, they were normal to her, they were her colleagues, her friends, but to you? Um, hello?

"Yeah, because I have pictures of you pooping your diapers", you said, exasperation lacing your tone. "I've known you for as long as I can remember. Those people have never met me. And I don't need them to meet me at my worst."

Even though she'd been dead-set on getting you out of this apartment, she still softened a little at that.

"You're not at your worst anymore", she reassured, smiling at you. "You're beyond that. You're starting a new life now."

"Still", you snorted. "I'm a nobody compared to you guys."

"God, don't say that!", she groaned, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to get out of here for a few hours. You're coming with me, I don't care what you have to say about it. We leave at eight, we'll get takeout on the way and I promise that if you're not feeling any better by midnight, we'll go home."

You knew that you couldn't argue with her. She was determined to get you out of this apartment and even if you didn't agree, she'd drag you out screaming. She'd have no problem either - she was way stronger than you.

"I hate you", you mumbled, no real malice behind the words. She just grinned and got up to stretch.

"Great", she chuckled. "I'm gonna go shower and then get ready. If you're not done by eight I'm carrying you into the car myself, I don't care."

You just grabbed a lonesome sock from the bed and threw it at her as she turned and walked out, leaving you to yourself, your own thoughts and the realisation that you actually had to meet all those high-maintenance people. It took two seconds before you were tearing open your closet and dragging your shirt over your head. You had barely one and a half hours left to get ready and lord help you if you weren't finished on time.

...

You were buzzing with so much nervous energy when you got in the Uber that you felt like you were about to mutate into a bee. You couldn't imagine that would be any worse than what was about to happen anyway. Honestly, you'd been dreading meeting Nat's friends for months now, but it had got much, much worse when you'd moved out to San Diego. Because it had become a very real possibility. And today, well, today seemed to be the day that all those fears that had been festering for weeks and weeks would truly become reality.

You spent the entire car ride staring out of the window, thinking about how they'd surely all sneer at you, look at you with that expression just in between pity and arrogance that somehow all rich people wore. Maybe there'd be one or two decent people. Hopefully there would. Nat wasn't usually friends with absolute dickheads, but then again even back in highschool she'd got along with most of those popular jocks that wouldn't have looked twice at you. To be fair, she'd thrown some punches here and there, but you'd still rather keep to yourself than meet a bunch of snobs. At least you knew that Nat would be with you and that she wouldn't break her promise - if you weren't enjoying yourself, she'd take you back home dead on twelve.

You let out a last sigh when the car stopped, climbing out of your seat as slowly as you could while Nat paid, trying desperately to stall for as long as you possibly could. But she tutted at you and tucked her arm into yours, dragging you with her through the parking lot and over the threshold.

It didn't take long for you to realise that this was a navy bar. There were very, very few people in civilian clothes - in normal ones, you'd say - most of them were clad in uniforms. You could have rolled your eyes at that alone. Why were navy men always so goddamn eager to show off that they were navy? They couldn't seriously think anyone was going to throw themselves at them just because of their fucking uniforms. You'd much rather keep a very safe distance away from any and all navy guys - a radius of at least two miles.

"There they are", Phoenix said, a grin playing on her lips as she pointed at the corner with the pool tables. You internally braced yourself, taking another deep breath before you even dared to look where she was pointing, clutching the little purse you'd slung over your shoulder to ground you.

The bar wasn't particularly crowded yet and you could make out a group of people - not in uniform, thank god - huddled around both of the pool tables. As far as you could see, there was only one other woman. Of course. You should've guessed that Nat was flying with a bunch of testosterone monsters.

You hadn't expected much else, of course... but it still made you hyper-aware of the dress you'd picked out.

Nat whistled and let go of you when you got close enough to the squad (your skin was practically burning up and you were seriously considering turning around and making a run for it, but you'd never been too good at running and were much to scared to face-plant on the floor). The guys turned around like dogs, answering to her whistle and nothing more, and way too many pairs of eyes landed on you in the span of a single second.

"Alright?", Nat grinned, shoving you a little step in front of her. It wasn't like you were shy. You really weren't. Maybe you weren't exactly extroverted, but you certainly weren't shy. Usually. So you couldn't even be mad at her for forcing you to come out of your shell like this. "I'd like to introduce you idiots to my roommate."

One of the guys put his pool cue down and immediately your focus switched to him. You had to admit that for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. He was tall and he was blond and he had strikingly green eyes and broad shoulders and that button-up was really doing things for you. You'd expected Nat's friends to be talented and rich, sure, but not that goddamn handsome.

"You never told us your roommate's stunning", he drawled, all Texan accent dripping from his words like molten honey and sticking to your brain, and his grin almost sent you careening straight into his arms. You needed longer than you should've to really process his words, only realising that oh god, had he just called you stunning? when Nat was already rolling her eyes.

"Do not, Bagman", she hissed, "flirt with her or I will end you."

Bagman only chuckled at that and strode towards you, holding out his hand and luckily you had enough braincells left to grasp it. Normal, you told yourself. Totally normal greeting. You did your best to ignore the heat in your cheeks and the way his fingers felt.

"Hangman", he introduced himself, that award-winning grin still on his lips. "But you can call me Jake."

He winked, completely brushing over Nat's threat. She slapped the back of his head and he finally pulled his hand from yours as you stuttered out your name.

"What did I just say", Nat seethed, practically dragging him away from you. He just shrugged and chuckled to himself.

"Can't help myself around beautiful ladies, I'm afraid."

She slapped him another time for that and he brought his hand to his hair to rub over the spot that you were sure must already have been sore. Nat had a wicked right hook.

"Keep it in your pants, Bagman", she threatened again, then turned back to you. "Alright, now that the worst is over, I'll introduce you to the others."

She spun to stand next to you, eyes narrowing as she paused for a second. You could barely raise your eyebrows. All of this was so overwhelming. You'd expected everything from embarrassment to ridicule, but certainly not that anyone was about to flirt with you. And one gorgeous piece of human being as well.

But he probably did that with everyone.

He was navy, for gods sake! What were you thinking? Navy guys were toxic assholes that brought a new conquest home every night only to leave them unsatisfied and doing the walk of shame in the morning. You had enough troubles already, you really didn't need to add another man to the pile.

So you straightened and made yourself swear not to give Jake another second of acknowledgement.

Nat seemed to have finished her assessment of the group, whatever it had been, and she didn't look satisfied.

"Where's Bradshaw?", she asked.

"Probably doing what he does best", Jake sighed, snatching the pool cue up again and leaning over the table to take a shot. "Slow ridin'."

You had seriously no clue whatsoever how pool worked, but he straightened again with a self-satisfied expression and you guessed he must've done good, especially when his friend groaned. He caught your gaze and you snapped it away, cursing yourself for already fucking up on your promise. Nat huffed.

"He better have a convincing excuse", she muttered. "I thought I told everyone to make a good first impression."

Then she clapped her hands.

"Okay! Anyway. Next to Bagman, that's Coyote."

Coyote raised his beer at you and smiled. You gave him a little wave.

"Next to Coyote that's Fanboy and next to him that's Payback."

You waved at them too, laughing as Fanboy waved back with just a little too much vigor and as Payback threw you a sloppy salute. Nat turned to the other pool table.

"Over there that's Fritz, Yale, Harvard, Omaha and Halo."

She grinned, grabbed you by the shoulders and maneuvered you around, pointing at a man with big glasses on his nose, sitting in one of the few chairs that were facing the pool tables. He stopped popping nut mix into his mouth the second your eyes fell on him, his hand hovering uncertainly in mid-air.

"And that's", Nat said, almost prideful, "That's Bob."

"Ooh!", you keened, a little more confident that everybody seemed at least somewhat happy to see you and a little more excited now that you remembered a person from Nat's stories. "Backseater Bob?"

"That's me", Bob chuckled, red tinting his cheeks as he smiled, putting away the nut mix to wipe his hands off on his pants and reach one out to shake yours. You couldn't help but mirror his grin - his fingers were soft and he was gentle with you, a bit unlike Jake. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too", you nodded, already comfortable with him after all of two seconds. You understood now why Nat was so glad to have him as her backseater - he seemed like the complete opposite of the navy cliché that you despised so much.

Bob just smiled at you for a moment. His glasses made his eyes a little bigger than they probably were and honestly, you could see yourself getting along well with him. He seemed sweet and genuine and kind and you could feel your anxiety start to let go of you, start to slip away a bit.

"Oh", he let out and straightened. "D'you want something to drink?"

"She does", Nat interrupted before you could decline, as though she'd already known you would. She probably had, to be honest. She knew you well enough. "Would you get us two tequila shots and two mojitos?"

"Two tequila shots and two mojitos?", you laughed, turning around to her in surprise.

"I told you, you need to let loose", she grinned. "And we're letting loose tonight!"

"Oh yeah", you snorted, pushing her away by her shoulder as Bob got up and walked over to the bar. "Really letting loose apparently."

Nat only laughed and let herself flop down on one of the chairs, patting the seat next to her with Bob's nut mix on it. You grabbed it and sat down as well, brushing your hand down the front of your dress, smoothing it out.

You watched Nat's friends bustle about the pool tables. Watched Nat's squad as they talked and laughed. Watched Jake - just out of the corner of your eyes, really! - as he clapped Coyote on the back and you could've sworn that even though you really definitely weren't looking!!! his eyes were fixed on you. It had you fiddling with the straps of your dress.

"So?", Nat asked eventually, drawing your attention back to her. "They're not as bad as you thought, are they?"

Internally, you had to agree with her. Okay, maybe you'd been a little overdramatic. Maybe they weren't as bad. They didn't seem so. But also you'd known them for less than two minutes and you knew just how good people sometimes were at deceiving you.

"Give me a minute to get to know them and I'll tell you after", you smiled.

"That I can work with."

"Ladies", Jake's voice rang out, just before he stepped up right in front of you, leaving you practically no choice but to look up at him. He was grinning, the pool cue still in his hand. "You'll play a round, won't you?"

Nat shifted in her seat.

"Haven't got your ass kicked enough yet?", she asked.

"You know you couldn't kick my ass if you tried, Phee."

"We'll see about that."

She was up in a second, grabbing the cue from Jake and strolling over to the table as you watched her. You hadn't moved. You weren't about to.

That almost lazy kind of teasing they had going on reminded you of all those other people like Jake that she'd been friends with throughout her life. Not that you didn't make fun of each other - wasn't that practically the baseline of every friendship? But with them... You couldn't put your finger on it just now. It wasn't that they actually despised each other, you knew what Nat's hatred looked like and it wasn't this, and it certainly wasn't flirting either, you knew what Nat's type looked like and as handsome as you found Jake, he definitely wasn't it. Maybe it was just the combination of their personalities, maybe it was nothing at all. It was a bit like they still hadn't quite decided that they liked each other, even though they obviously did get on.

"What about you?", Jake asked and you blinked up at him in surprise. Sure, he'd addressed the both of you, but you'd kind of just assumed that he'd meant Nat.

"Uh, I don't play", you said carefully, still unsure if - and if, then why - he was talking to you. Hadn't Nat just agreed to play against him? Were two players not enough somehow? Was this like, a group game?

Jake raised his eyebrows.

"You don't play pool?", he asked, like he'd never met anybody who dared not play pool.

"No, I don't", you said, very slowly, as though that would somehow lessen the risk of miscommunication. "I don't know how to."

The corners of his lips tugged upwards at that, just slightly, like he wanted to hide his grin from you. Was he making fun of you? Honestly you couldn't even be mad at him if he was - you'd expected pretty much nothing else from the squad. But it did come as a bit of a surprise now that your impression of them all had so rapidly changed.

"Well we can't have that", Jake tutted, reaching out a hand again, hanging in mid-air as you looked at it sceptically. This whole situation was a little overwhelming. Or maybe it was just him that was a little overwhelming. "You're at a navy bar, Sunny. You have to know pool."

You glanced from his hand back up at his face and felt kind of daft with how much time your brain needed to process all this.

"Sunny?", you asked, because of all the questions that you had this was the easiest one to phrase. And maybe because it was the thing that had thrown you off track the most. Jake's grin only widened.

"Navy nature to give nicknames, darlin'", he chuckled while you realised that you'd still not taken his hand and that at this point it probably started being weird (and heavy) to hold his arm out like that. So despite your earlier promise, which, you had to admit, you'd already thrown out of the window a second after you'd made it, you acknowledged him very much. As carefully as you possibly could, you put your hand in his as he talked, and immediately he tightened his grip on you and helped you stand up. You were a little too close to him now, a little too close for good, and if Nat hadn't been occupied racking the pool balls she probably would have kicked Jake in the face. But he didn't seem to mind, only carried on talking, apparently not whatsoever surprised by the sudden close proximity or by how easily the pet names had slipped off his lips.

Sunny. Darlin'.

"And that's just a lovely dress", he went on, leaning in even closer, so close that for just a second you almost could have felt his breath on your ear. "I think yellow might be my new favourite colour."

He pulled back with a wink and then he was gone, just the weight of his hand resting in yours left as he led you to the pool table Nat was setting up. He let go of you the very moment she looked up, a smile on her lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Jake was playing a dangerous game and he was pulling you down with him.

He strolled around the table back to Coyote, who was still holding the other pool cue in his hands, and Nat took the few steps towards you, her smile dropping a bit.

"Bagman bother you?", she asked, genuinely a little worried.

"Nah", you said, a little shaky, and shook your head. "I'm fine."

It wasn't a real answer, but she let it slide, nodding as she watched Jake return with the second cue now.

"You just let me know if he does", she muttered and then there he was, too quick for you to respond.

Nat was usually protective. She always had been, and rightfully so. Always a little weary of guys you went on dates with, always a little weary of guys you brought home. You'd minded sometimes, like back in college when you'd had a crush on that guy from musical theatre and she had threatened so vividly to break his neck if he hurt you that he'd never talked to you again. But she had clearly been right about most of them and so you really should trust her, really, you should... and yet.

She was practically telling you to stay far away from Jake. She was doing it the other way around, for now, but you were sure she'd give you the whole speech tomorrow morning as well. And you'd just met this guy, it wasn't like you were head over heels in love with him, but he was charming and flirty and it was working on you.

He was just about to open his mouth and, you guessed, start explaining pool to you when Nat suddenly straightened.

"Bradshaw!", she called out, so loud that the whole bar must've heard her, and you turned to see what - who - she was looking at as if in reflex. The crowd nothing short of parted for him.

A ridiculous Hawaiian shirt on that caught your eye first, then those sunglasses - were that Ray Bans? Hadn't they got out of style like, a decade ago? - and then... Oh, and then.

"That's a pornstache", you said, quite dumbly, you had to admit, and Nat snorted. You turned to her and then back to him and even though you were still very much gaping, you were laughing now too. "Like, an actual 80s pornstache."

Pornstache had caught sight of his squad apparently and was making his way towards you and the closer he came, the less funny you felt about the whole situation.

Pornstache was attractive.

Maybe it was the hair. Maybe it was the swagger in his step, the fact that he was practically oozing confidence. Not that the others weren't, but he... well, you kinda couldn't look away from him as he approached. Maybe it was the moustache after all.

You hadn't ever met a man who could pull that off.

He shouldn't be allowed to either.

God, how was Nat working with all these gorgeous specimen? They should all be sued for looking like that. It was too much power in the hands of the navy.

Pornstache stopped short in front of you, a light grin on his lips, and someone - Jake perhaps? - let out a resigned breath.

"You're late", Nat said, crossing her arms like she always did when she didn't like something. His grin only widened.

"There needs to be someone fashionably late in every squadron", he chuckled, slipping off his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt and if it had been up to you you'd have forced them back up on his nose because now you had to watch as he glanced from Nat to you and took you in. He was way too attractive to be eyeing you up like this.

Men like him didn't eye you up like this.

Especially not in yellow sundresses.

Not that the dress wasn't pretty. It was. And you weren't overdressed like you'd have been in the black one that you'd had hanging at your closet door too. But it was kind of weird to be standing in front of all these testosterone-y men in a cute little dress like that.

Though Jake seemed to have liked it.

God, first him and now Pornstache...

"Rooster", Pornstache said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. "Or Bradley. But you can call me whatever you want."

You could practically hear Nat rolling her eyes as you shook his hand, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face as heat rushed through your arm and straight to your cheeks.

"What is it with you guys tonight?", she sighed, uncrossing her arms and grabbing her pool cue instead. She turned back to the table that she'd finished setting up and nudged Jake away to take his place, apparently at her wits' end and done with the conversation. Pornstache - Bradley - wasn't.

No, he was still looking at you and you still couldn't look away.

"So you're Nat's new roommate, I assume?"

You couldn't help but admire the way his voice sounded. If it already had you melting like this within two minutes of meeting him, you didn't want to imagine how you'd react if you heard it in the morning. Or late at night. Or close to your ear. Or- Wow, you really needed to fucking stop.

"Yeah", you choked out and cleared your throat as embarrassment set in. You shouldn't be thinking about Nat's colleagues like this. You shouldn't be thinking about anyone like this. You needed a drink and to cool off. God, where was Bob with those tequila shots? "Yeah, Nat's new roommate."

Bradley nodded, that damned grin still on his lips.

"But you knew her before?"

"Yeah", you said again, a little steadier this time. "Yeah, I've known her my whole life."

You should stop saying 'yeah' that much. It was making you sound like that was the only word you knew. Yeah.

"Really?", he asked and raised his eyebrows, glancing at Nat who was now leaning over the pool table and taking her shot, totally concentrated. "She never told us, just said she was introducing us to a friend who's recently moved. If you've known her that long, she could've introduced us back at Top Gun."

"You went to Top Gun with her?", you asked, raising your eyebrows to look at Nat too. "She never told me."

"Seems like she didn't tell us much about each other", Bradley said and somehow, he seemed rather amused by it - his lip was quirking up and his moustache followed and you felt like that should rather be funny than attractive. Shame that it wasn't.

Before you could say anything more, Bob came back with a tray in his hands, balancing a bunch of glasses. He barely seemed to notice Bradley, too focused on not letting anything fall and shatter.

"Tequila or mojito first?", he asked. Nat straightened up and grabbed the two shot glasses from the tray.

"Tequila", she said, back to at least a half-grin. "Thanks, Bob."

She gave one to you and clinked them and the two of you downed your shots like you'd always done - one big sip in sync, heads thrown back and glasses practically touching your noses and laughs on your lips when you put them down again, with just a bit too much fervor on Bob's tray.

"Now the mojito", she chuckled, taking the cocktail glasses next and handing you one again.

"You ladies seem to be enjoying yourselves", Jake suddenly said, leaning against the pool table with that grin on his lips but somehow, it was tighter now and his voice was a little strained. Maybe it was the tequila just blurring up your senses for a moment. Maybe your perception was fucked.

"Have to", Nat grinned and winked at you. "After all you lot aren't any help."

Bradley and Jake started protesting like she had somehow insulted their honour, but she only laughed and turned back to the game, already taking a sip of the cocktail in her hand. You followed her example.

Bob carefully sat down the tray on one of the chairs and picked up the nut mix again. You couldn't help but smile. It was somehow endearing, the rest of them sipping beer and drinks and him just popping nut mix into his mouth like a grad student.

"So, Sunny", Jake said, suddenly so close again that you could smell his aftershave. "Your turn."

You glanced at the pool table and raised your eyebrows. You should probably say no, thanks, I can't play, goodbye and leave it be. Leave him be. Nat would probably prefer if you did. She'd probably prefer if you turned around and joined Bob and made friends with her backseater instead of let Bagman, like she so affectionately called him, teach you how to play pool. But he was an attractive man and you were only human and anyway, you imagined you'd have enough time left to talk to everybody else. So you looked up at him and his impossibly green eyes that you couldn't get over and took the cue out of his hands.

"Only if you teach me", you said, stopping short at the end to ponder if maybe, just maybe.... So you grinned and added "Bagman" and watched his face fall for a second as you pushed past him and tried to make sense of the pool table.

Alright, so there were nine balls in different colors and if you were right, you were supposed to push them into the pockets in the corners and at the sides. Right? But that couldn't be it. It couldn't be that easy.

Jake had apparently restarted his original train of thought and turned around to you, his chest almost - just almost - pressing into your shoulder.

"I was planning on teaching you, Sunny", he chuckled, straightened and turned a little more serious. "A'ight, it's actually quite easy once you got it. So we've got ten balls in total and your goal is to pocket the nine colored ones. But you're only allowed to strike the cueball, the white one. With me so far?"

"So far", you nodded. "So basically I have to like, hit all these other balls but just with the white one and not with the cue? And if I pocket the cueball then what happens?"

"That's a foul", he explained patiently. Honestly you hadn't expected he'd react so well to dumb questions. "If you pocket the cueball, your turn's over and the other player-"

He stopped short. You were just about to ask if he was alright when you heard it too.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

The music was gone. Completely gone. Someone had turned off the jukebox.

"Every fucking time", Jake muttered, running his hand over his face as you looked at him and frowned. You were missing something major here and honestly couldn't think of what. But then Nat put down her cue and her drink and maneuvered around Jake to pry your drink from your hand as well.

"You're gonna wanna see this", she chuckled, one of those rare, all-consuming grins on her lips and you could hardly do anything but stumble after her as she made her way through the crowd. You didn't think anything could have prepared you for the next five minutes.

Because okay, Bradley was sitting at the piano. Okay, Bradley could also play said piano. And okay, Bradley could sing as well. And just maybe he really wasn't bad. Maybe he was really, really good.

Maybe Nat thought the same because you hadn't seen her that carefree in a while. Maybe everyone did - almost everyone, at least, because almost everyone was laughing and singing along and having the time of their lives. Maybe you did too.

No, you definitely did too.

Bradley had popped his sunglasses back up on his nose and was clearly enjoying being the center of attention for a minute. And you couldn't help but be completely enamoured by it. By him. You couldn't help but laugh along with Nat and let her twirl you around and sing, too loud and probably much too off-key, and fall from Bob's arms into Fanboys and you really couldn't help but somehow feel like a part of the group.

And then the song was over and you were panting, your cheeks hurt from grinning and you had to brace your palm on the lid of the piano to not fall over.

Fanboy's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder somehow and you didn't know if you were leaning on him or if he was leaning on you, but it didn't really matter. You were glad now that you had chosen that summer dress - it was light and breezy and you didn't have to worry about sweating through skin-tight fabric or anything like that. No, you just had to sweep your hair out of your face and throw your head back and laugh.

And look at Bradley, maybe, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement. He looked straight out of a fever dream. His sunglasses lay abandoned on the piano lid - he had really pretty eyes. How had you not noticed before?

"Is this like a regular show you pull off?", you asked, a little breathless as Fanboy untangled himself from you, the conversation the rest of the squad was starting up now fading into background noise. You were running high on adrenaline, the tequila was finally hitting your system, the anxiety was fully disappearing and because spirits were so high, your confidence came crashing back into you like a huge wave of relief that had you collapsing on the piano bench right next to Bradley. "'Cuz it seemed like everyone was quite used to that."

He chuckled, turning his head so he could look at you. He was tall, you realised, really really tall, at least taller than you by a head and you didn't know if it was this apparent because you were suddenly sitting or just because you were suddenly so close to him. Not that you wanted to complain either way.

"Let's say it's not the first time", he smiled. You raised your eyebrows.

"i'll ignore that you're deflecting for now", you laughed, not quite caring that he was deflecting at all. (You were pretty sure you knew the answer anyway.) "And instead I'll say I'm impressed. I've always admired people that can play."

"Do you play?", he asked, genuinely interested, drawing his hands back from the piano as the jukebox started up again. You had to say you'd liked the live music a little better. A little a lot. After all, Bradley Bradshaw was a sight to behold.

"No", you said. "Not anymore. I played... Well, I kinda had lessons back when I was little, but my family- Yeah, no, I don't play."

You swallowed and he raised his eyebrows, but luckily didn't comment on your stuttering. You really didn't need to traumadump on people you'd met half an hour ago. If it had even been half an hour. (It probably hadn't.)

"I could teach you", he offered and maybe you were wrong, maybe you were stupid, maybe you were tispier than you'd thought but you could've sworn that just for a moment, he glanced down at your lips - but you probably were wrong and stupid and tispier than you'd thought.

"Slow Ride."

You looked up to see Jake leaning against the piano, a beer bottle in his hand and a forced grin on his lips, entirely focused on Bradley next to you.

"Bagman."

You glanced back and forth between them as they stared at each other in silence.

Maybe you shouldn't be here. This felt like you really should not be here. Were you missing something? You'd thought that the squad was like one big family. These two seemed more like they were about to rip each others throats out and you didn't know if you wanted to be in between them when it inevitably happened.

"So you're back in showbiz, I see", Jake chuckled, putting his beer down on the piano lid.

"Some people can actually make it there, whether you believe it or not", Bradley shot back, his eyebrows raised and his lips still twisted into that grin that you were pretty certain was an act in itself.

Jake let out a dry laugh.

"Maybe you should change career paths", he suggested. "Actually do make it somewhere."

"Maybe I should leave", you muttered, already halfway off the bench and on your way to down the mojito Nat had left on the pool table, just to get out of whatever this was. Even though whatever it was came closer than anything else had so far to what you'd expected, it threw you off track more than the rest had. You needed a minute. And you needed a drink.

"Don't worry", Bradley said, turning back to you after throwing a last glance at Jake. "Bagman's gonna go now."

"And leave the poor woman with you?", Jake chuckled, straightening up with a grin. His beer bottle clinged against the wood. "I don't think so."

Having the both of them stare at you had your skin crawling.

That confidence that you'd had earlier? Gone. The anxiety you'd thought you were done with? Back. Fun! Where was Nat to get you out of this? Where was Nat when you needed her? You should've listened to her and kept away. You should've sat down next to Bob and had a pleasant conversation, but no. No, you had to find the two troublemakers of the team and get right in between their little quarrel.

"I was about to teach the poor woman how to play piano", Bradley said, eyes still fixed on you.

"Really?", Jake asked. "Because I was about to teach her how to play pool."

He raised his eyebrows and Bradley did too and they were looking at you all silent like they expected you to say something now and oh god, what had you got yourself into?

Two of the most gorgeous men you'd ever seen - to your great dismay - who were friends, no, colleagues of Nat's, who flew multi-million-dollar aircrafts and spent their days saving the world, looking at you and flirting with you and... flirting with you.

Nat had been right, no matter how this would work out.

You'd really needed to get out of your bedroom.

...

So you've tripped and fallen right into a love triangle, it seems. What are you gonna do?

a/n: this somehow didn't really turn out the way i wanted but i dont mind? like, im quite happy with how it did turn out tbh!!!! and im so excited to finally publish this chapter ahhhhhhhh lets see what happens!

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