#hes usually such a pain in the ass with all the staff because like

[llamagoddessofficial]

have you considered...zöo mothè bois? :D<

Of course, of course, as is tradition for the monstrous boys

They live in an enclosed building, with no windows or methods of natural sun getting in, to help with the issue of moth monsters being primarily nocturnal. The zoo has the lights turned on at night and the enclosures significantly darkened in the day- that way, the boys should all be nice and active when visitors are around. Mc is a worker there, part of the ever-growing crew dedicated to the care of the moth monsters.

Sans: He is, by all accounts, the star attraction. The newest addition to their collection of beasts, he was captured and brought in after killing and eating a wealthy/famous trophy hunter; his pretty wings have made him something of a celebrity. He dislikes the attention and constant eyes and mostly stays in his den... but like his zoo skider counterpart, he actually doesn't hate his captive existence too much. I mean- it’s free food and accommodation, right?

Mc’s been strongarmed into becoming his personal groomer, because he won’t allow anyone except her close enough to touch him. The zoo want their biggest source of revenue looking good, and someone needs to get close enough to clean dirt and blood off Sans’ wings without getting torn to pieces. He used to avoid cleaning his wings out of laziness, but now he does it because he knows the dirtier his wings are, the longer Mc will stay in his enclosure with him, brushing and grooming his beautiful wings... unintentionally performing an extremely romantic action with him for hours on end. 

Mc won’t deny she likes her time with Sans. He’s good as gold with her- dopey and easygoing, always grinning. She feels weirdly calm when she’s close to him. But she’s still cautious... she’s still on edge. Sometimes, when she looks at him, she catches him staring at her with a frightening edge to his grin.

Red: He's bored. That’s his problem; he used to be nomadic, travelling the lands to find the best hunting grounds, meeting people and seeing the world. Being taken into this stifling zoo (all because he killed the occasional unaccompanied traveller, how unreasonable) and bundled into a single enclosure has left him feeling cramped and snappish, even more aggressive with humans than he normally gets. How good he behaves depends entirely on how bored he is.

She’s his absolute favourite. He’s a massive flirt around her, trilling out a wolf whistle when he sees her walking by. If he’s had the right enrichment he’s her favourite too, gentle and well behaved, purring while she cleans up and doing little more than fussing her clothes. But other days, the days when he’s not had anything to do for hours on end, when he’s so bored he could kill... 

... He waits until her guard is down before he pounces on her and tries to drag her (kicking and screaming) into his den. He’s strong and he’s got four arms, he’s very difficult to escape, and she’s never sure if he wants to eat her or try to make moth babies with her- Red’s moods are why she carries bug spray on the job.

Skull: This poor boy was actually raised in captivity. Removed from his habitat as a baby and sold as an exotic decoration for rich morons, years of stress and mishandling have left him with a few... issues. Neglect made him deeply possessive of food, constant stress has made him fucking huge, living in enclosed cages for years means he can't fly, he has absolutely no idea how to be a moth monster. He's a high-strung unsociable mess with an incurable hatred of humans who just wants to hide in his den and never come out. The growls he lets out, when someone comes into his enclosure, are loud enough to be heard through the walls.

... Except... there’s one light in his life. Just the one.

When Mc comes into his room he turns into a shy mess. He curls into himself, he can’t hold eye contact with her, if she tries to bring him things like food or blankets she has to leave them on the floor and walk out because he’s too nervous to approach her. He’s got a huge crush on her and it sends him into a tailspin every time she smiles or says his name, colour spreads across his cheekbones and his eyelight dilates like a cat. 

He does, however, get a little burst of confidence when it comes to stealing from her. He’s an absolute fiend for stealing her things. If she ever drops a hair tie or piece of jewellery, she isn’t getting it back. Utensils vanish too. One time, he went right up to her and snatched the jacket tied around her waist before retreating back to his den again. He’s slowly gathering his confidence.

One day he might get enough confidence to just steal her.

#llamagines #zoo moth sanses au #sans and mc's first meeting woudlve been very funny #hes usually such a pain in the ass with all the staff because like #why would he let them touch his wings??? thats SUPER intimate #but then one day this very cute keeper walks in and hes momentarily stunned into behaving #she takes advantage of him behaving to start cleaning him #which stuns him EVEN MORE #because like.... a cute girl just walked up to him and did the moth equivalent of kissing him all over his face #he sits there like o///_///o while shes going ''wow hes very well behaved isnt he??''

[oval3000]

Chapter 2

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

-------------------------------------------------------

Jacob slammed one of the medicine drawers close after getting the bottle of pills from a specific patient. "I don't know what miracle came down here, but we haven't had an accident in a month." He said to a fellow nurse standing next to him.

"Don't jinx it," she said grabbing the pill bottle from his hands.

"You know," he stared at your section, watching as you typed what you needed into the computer," ever since she started working here, König hasn't bashed anyone's heads."

"Well it's only been a month since she started working here, I wouldn't be relieved yet." She said, popping two pills into a Dixie cup.

"Yeah well I'm very optimistic about this." He got up and walked away. "Oh if the drawer gets stuck again, just bang on it a few times."

"It would be better if they just get new ones," she sighed, walking away towards her row of patients.

He rolled his eyes, "please they're too stingy to buy new bed sheets."

You have been working here for a month and so far everything was okay. You do what you need to do and things go smoothly.

As for König, he hasn't said or do anything towards you. You honestly felt like they were fooling you by telling you all those stories about his past nurses and guards.

You learned more about the staff names on all floors. König's two guards are named Eli and Gabriel. They both make sure that nothing happens to you aswell as any other staff.

You met Dr. Smith. You first impression of her was a little stiff. Mainly because she was direct and serious. She doesn't really make small talk to any of the nurses only the administrator. She also doesn't really fond of you. Well it's not like she hates you, is more of she critics anything you do. From the way you gather the medical supplies to the way you check patients vitals. During her visit with König, you stay outside the room so you don't know what goes on in there.

You saw when she exited the room alongside Eli and Gabriel, taking König back to his room. You didn't need to look up to know that Dr. Smith was walking towards, her heels made it obvious. "He will no longer take his usual calming medication, he'll take this one." She gave you the doctors order.

"benzodiazepines?" He was fine with his usual one.

She looked at you with her eyebrows forward "Yes. Is there a problem."

"Wouldn't the short term use cause him more problems compared to how he is now. I mean, he's been doing good lately and his oth-'

"Are you a doctor (Y/n)?" She tilted her head as she gives you a serious stern look.

"No."

"Right, I call shots for what is good for my patients. So if I tell you to order his new medicine then you order his new medicine! Is there a problem!?" Her high pitch tone caused the other nurses to look at you.

You look around mentally slapping yourself in the face. Of course she knows more than you, you are just a nurse. "No, Dr. Smith. I'll order them asap."

"Good. Make sure that his primary physician knows about it too and next time you question me, go back to school to get a lab coat. You are a nurse, you do what I say."

She left leaving the echo of her heels scraping the white tile floors. You cursed under your breath while picking up the phone. Calling in orders for prescription is a pain in the ass. Well the hospital it is, you're not familiar with a psychiatric hospital. The last thing you need is to be at hold for three hours trying to get it through.

"We need medical attention at room #526!" You heard Eli. You quickly ran to König's room and saw Gabriel on the floor, holding his mouth as blood was coming out. You turned your head to take a look at König. He was standing there with blood on his nuckles. He's tall, you never got a good look on how tall he was. This man is a mountain an actual mountain.

"What happened?" Jacob entered in seeing the mess.

"I need gauze pads and bandages.' You said holding onto Gabriel. König saw as you attended him. You're his nurse not Gabriel's. You should be attending König not him. The other guards came in to help Gabriel getting up while the others trying to hold König down. Jacob came in with the medical tray. He flicked a needle, trying to get any air bubbles out. You got up as they took Gabriel out, "what are you doing?"

"Everytime he does this, we have to put him down" He made his way towards König while two other guards were trying to hold him down. Compared to the guards themselves they looked like little children against König.

You went in front of Jacob, "You don't have to do that. It will make him think more irrationally. Please he is my patient."

He lowered the needle down giving you a sigh, "Fine. I'll go make a report. But you still can't be here unless two guards are present."

"Okay." The two guards let König's arms go.

Eli and Jacob left to talk to the administrator. You picked up the gauze pads and bandage from the trey.

You haven't made eye contact with König. You've always been too nervous about that, but you had to see him to examine him. You saw him, you saw his face. He had stuble. His features are strong and sharp, his jawline looks like it can cut anybody. He had scars on his face one through his mouth and the other one through his eye. His eyes are blue a nice clear blue, which stood out against his dark under circles. He was probably the most handsome patient you have ever seen. No, not patient, the most handsome men you have ever seen.

You walk towards him, slowly. You looked up to him, your face aligned to his torso . His white t-shirt was snuged and hugged all his curves on his abdomen. You can see the outline of his perfect abs and chest area. His biceps make it look the arm holes of his shirt are going to pop open. His hair was a perfect shade of brown, almost golden. Like before, it wasn't long or short, it was a good length, enough to make a little lazy ponytail.

You stuck out your hand as he placed his on top of yours. Your hand looks barley visible compared to his. You took a peace of gauze and dabbed it on his bloody nuckle. He didn't have any wounds from the punch he gave grabriel. If anything, the blood you are wiping away is Gabriel's.

König stared at you. He saw how concentrated you are with him, how gentle you are with him and how carring you are to him. The fact that you stood up for him from getting sedated, it was a like a call for him that you are his officially.

I mean he did it for you. No one knows the other half the story, they always accuse of the one that looks guilty. When Eli and Gabriel went to take him back to his room, König heard the comments they made about you. All the comments made by Gabriel.

Sure, Gabriel is nice to you, but he looks like a jerk and he is one. He's nice to you, but behind your back he thinks you are an object. Talking about how he wants to take you, not for a date, but for a nice dinner so that he can fuck you later in his car and most likely never talk to you again afterwards...unless he's desperate for sex again

König couldn't let that slide. Talking about you like a sex toy. Talking about you like you don't have emotions. Yes, König has killed men and women that don't really deserve it, but you. Someone that stood up for him. That attends when he needs or wants something. He wanted Jell-O during lunch, but no one was giving him one. Then you came inside the dining room and saw that he didn't have Jell-O like the rest so you gave him one. It's like you read his mind. You don't deserve to be treated this way. It reminds him of himself when he was a kid.

Being bullied for just being nice, for being who he is. He wants to protect you that's all he wanted to do. So he punch Gabriel after hearing his plan to seduce and fuck you then leaving you alone for yourself without a care in the world. He was easy, just one punch and he was down on floor holding his bloody mouth.

You cleaned him up and sat him down on his bed. He wanted to grab your waist and pull you closer to him. To kiss you as a thank you.

He was never lucky with the women, who would be with someone who's a looser. He remembers the time in high-school when girls will ask him out only to laugh at his face when he thought they were serious. Before he left to go to the military he met a girl. The girl just wanted some free drinks so she talked into him for some free stuff. He lost his virginity to her and felt as if he found the one. But to her he was her wallet, a way to get free things and rides for her and her friends. He bought her flowers, teddy bears, chocolates. Took her out to romantic dates that he tried so hard to assemble. Only to walk in on her having sex with another men, in his bedroom on his bed in his place that he pays for. He hoped that she was just drunk or scared..maybe, but no.

"Seriously König, you thought that I cared about you? I mean you are not even good at sex. I was just using you for the free stuff. I just wanted free drinks jeez! It's not my fault you couldn't take a hint."

He saw how they both laughed at his face. How they both just sat there naked, laughing at him as if he was the punchline to a joke.

"Believe me I never wanted this to happen! Especially after getting that dam abortion. But it doesn't matter cause you paid for it."

She wanted money to buy a new dress. She used it to have an abortion. He felt tears running down his face. They didn't feel bad, no, they laughed harder at him at how pathetic he was.

"Why would I even be with a looser."

He remembered how those kids would push him down the slide. How they would rip away his comic books. How they broke everyone one of his toys.

"Looser!"

"Looser!Looser!"

his fist turned white, he felt his fingernails, cutting deep into his palm. The girl he thought was the one was taunting him along his boy toy. He walked up to them. They expected him to bawl like a baby and beg for an apology. Instead, he choked her. His hands gripped tight around her neck. He felt some punches coming from her boy toy, telling König to stop, to let her go.

He saw as the life of her eyes went away. He heard as her neck cracked and dropped her back on the bed. He turned the guy, choking him to death aswell.

He hid the bodies, ran away, joined the military and found a new way to live.

You heard other male voices coming from the elevator and the administrator coming in. "What happened!?"

"He attacked Gabriel." You said to him, you saw what was behind him, other doctors.

"Put him in a straitjacket." He pointed to König

"What no!" You said getting in between him and König.

"Excuse me!?"

"Putting him in a straitjacket isn't going to solve anything."

He crossed his arms while looking down at you "Doing nothing will solve nothing, (Y/n)!"

You turned to König who had a stoic expression "I know, but I'm sure there are oth-"

"What are you again, (Y/n)?" he blurted out.

You knew where this is going. Twice in one day, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "A nurse."

He gave you a small smirk, the same one Dr. Smith gave you. "Exactly. A nurse. I'm your superior, you don't get to tell me what to do. Your job is to take his vitals, and give him medication not to throw orders around! Do I make myself clear!" He stepped closer to you. You wanted to back away, but you felt frozen. He was directly infront of your face. "Now, move aside so we can our jobs!"

You looked down on the floor. You never felt so light headed as you did now. The other voices coming from them were echoes. You felt nausea and sweating. Your heart felt like it was pounding from your chest, but it sounded like a blur. "S-sorry.. sir." You always feel week when people yell at you.

"Next time you do something like that, you're out of here, (Y/n). " He said as you all watched König being put in a straitjacket.

The administrator, Ben, saw König. He was taken back a bit. The look he gave him. As if he was killing him right on the spot. König no longer had the stoic expression, he gave him a death stare.

Who does he think he is to yell at you for being nice to him. To threatened her. They are all the same. Everyone here is all same. The same kids that shoved him around the boys bathroom when he was 10. The same as those girls that laughed at him that laughed at his face.

But instead of him being the victim, is you. You're so weak and innocent, how can someone treat you like that.

But it's okay because you'll have König by his side. He'll make sure to save you.

To care for you.

To love you.

To make you his.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #yandere konig #könig #konig #konig x reader #könig x y/n #yandere könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x you

[satorisoup]

ICK .ᐟ pt. 1 pt. 2

ft. bokuto, osamu, kuroo, atsumu, and akaashi.

✉︎ incoming note from the writer .ᐟ

don’t take any of these seriously!! im slandering my own favs in this so dont worry, we suffer together teehee >:3

ᰔ BOKUTO

this is my blorbo, and it pains me to say it but i just know this man has the worst body odor EVER on match days. it’s genuinely so bad. when he’s on the court with his beefy self sweating up a storm… YIKES i can smell him from here. don’t get me wrong he’s very hygienic and usually smells like a good cologne! but that deodorant is doing nothing when he’s playing volleyball. don’t go sniffing him after a game because you just might burn your nose hairs off.

ᰔ OSAMU

prefers when girls “don’t wear makeup”. yes, he thinks you always look adorable but he doesn’t hesitate to say he likes you better without it. says he likes a “natural girl”, but when you take your makeup off he’s automatically asking if you’re okay because “you look tired.”. PLEASE someone tell this man to hush up when it comes his dumb “preferences” because it just makes him look douchey.

ᰔ KUROO

he’s unfortunately a smart ass. do not try to get into arguments about ANYTHING with him because he’s automatically pulling up google to prove you wrong. and even when its HIM that’s wrong, he continues to try and make himself sound right. it could be about something so minuscule and he already has a wikipedia page open. “no that’s actually not true look-“ KUROO I LOVE YOU BUT SHUT UP! im just trying to talk about a damn bird i saw.

ᰔ ATSUMU

he’s really, really bad at giving gratuity to restaurant staff. he’s super nice to them, but he thinks a $5 tip should work fine on your 100$ check with multiple modifications to your order. he’s so used to his brother giving him free food at onigiri miya that he’s lost all sense of good percentages when it comes to the tip. at this point, cover the tip yourself and let him pay for the rest because he just doesn’t get it.

ᰔ AKAASHI

GRAMMAR POLICE. oh my god. please read over your text 10 times before you send it because he WILL find something wrong with it. even if it’s very obviously a typo, he’s correcting it before he even responds to your message. buy him a shirt that says “you’re*” on it because its his catchphrase at this point. want his help studying? think again. you’re basically going to be redoing everything you had done. you should really just let HIM do it.

#satorisoup #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #anime #haikyuu x reader #hq drabble #tetsuro kuroo #keiji akaashi #kotaro bokuto #atsumu miya #osamu miya #hq kuroo #hq akaashi #hq atsumu #hq osamu #hq bokuto #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu kuroo #miya osamu #miya twins #miya atsumu #inarizaki x y/n

[bagopucks]

Blurbs

Jack Hughes x Reader, platonic Luke

For @hughesmoyle

✄————————————

There were many plus sides to Luke joining the devils. Jack having a brother around, myself having someone else to talk to when I was mad at Jack, having someone sane in the apartment. The list was endless. The thing on the top though? Knowing Jack had a protector. Somebody who would lay down their life to avenge their own blood. Luke was quiet, but he could be mean given the appropriate situation. I’d seen it multiple times. Out at bars, when a guy got too close and Jack wasn’t around. Luke was there. He’d loom over me with a look in his eyes, and a few snide words for the perv who wouldn’t leave me alone.

Likewise, Luke had always been around for his brothers. The few times the boys got into it with other kids, Luke was always ready to throw his fists in the mix. Even when Quinn and Jack fought. Luke was ready to take one’s side. Though usually he ended up punching Quinn for calling Jack a meanie, and shoving Jack for calling Quinn an ass. Jack always went for the harsher words.

Luke was a protector, and as much as I trusted Jack’s team, there was nothing like a brother to have your back.

Except -apparently- in the moment Jack may have needed him most. I gasped the second he lunged at Aho. I’d seen Quinn fight. I’d seen Luke fight. Jack? Maybe in a playful manner. I already had his tooth to worry about, but I feared I’d have more to look after when he finished his scrum with Aho.

“Jack!” His name was the first word to leave my lips. I shot out of my seat, my hand grasping the arm of Kristen. Quiet gasps and ‘oh’s’ dropped from the lips of the women around me. The weight of the leather jacket on my shoulders never felt heavier until then. I flinched when Jack went down. My first assumption was that he’d lost the fight. Until he wrapped his arms around Aho’s legs and flipped him over. Was that even legal?

“Babes, you gotta relax. He’ll be fine!” Nicole called to me over the roar of the crowd. My heart raced. I could hear it in my ears.

“What if he gets hurt?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. Just relax.” Kristen interjected. She wiggled her arm from my grasp and slipped her hand into my own, slowly pulling me back into my seat as Jack was separated from the Hurricane. So much for Luke and all his protective tendencies. I couldn’t see much of Jack, but the way he skated off, he looked fine. Then again, he didn’t look particularly in pain when he chipped his tooth either.

My knees bounced for the rest of the game. My heart raced. I felt hot, so I slipped my jacket off. Then I heard the final goal horn. The game was officially over. I grabbed my jacket and shot out of my seat, past a suite full of women. I assumed my jacket would be sign enough to get me back into the players only area. I truly hoped so. I took the stairwell instead of trying to weave through crowds on escalators. It was quite the sprint, but a workout I would benefit from. I was met with security by the first door, their eyes looked me over before one man smiled at me and let me through.

Then it was a matter of weaving through the halls, past the visiting locker room, past equipment rooms, past reporters- then I was stopped outside the locker room.

“Here for Jack?” One of the media managers asked. He worked with the arena staff.

“Yeah.” I breathed out, biting my lip.

“You know you’ll have to wait.” And I did, but a piece of me hoped I’d manage to get in first.

Instead, because of legally binding contracts, I was left pacing in the hall while the media filled the locker room and began asking millions of questions.

When reporters cleared out, and players began filing out of the room, the same manager waved me inside. I wrinkled my nose at the scent, but my distaste was replaced by concern when I spotted Jack and Luke seated side by side in their stalls, still half dressed. Jack was rubbing his wrist- not a great sign, but his smile was a good one.

“Jack.” Both boys looked up at me. I crossed the floor, careful not to step on the logo.

“Hey, babe. Thought we’d meet at the car?” Jack’s bubbly tone caught me off guard. I reached out to grab his face nonetheless, inspecting every inch. His brows rose in surprise, but he allowed me to turn his face in my hands and occasionally rub a blemish or red mark. Even the acne forming on his forehead from the sweaty helmet he wore. He needed a spa day.

“Smile wide for me.” I instructed, and much like a child, Jack gave me his best toothy grin. All but one. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I don’t think so.” Jack shook his head, and I finally let him go. “You worried about me?” He teased.

“A little, all things considered.” Look stifled a laugh at the obvious allusion to his missing tooth.

“Hey,” Jack feigned offense.

“You just make me nervous sometimes, Is all.”

“What about me?” Luke chimed in, looking up at me expectantly.

“What about you?” I quipped in response, this time I laughed with Jack.

“You guys suck.” Luke muttered as he stood up.

“Says the one who didn’t protect his brother.” I argued.

“Did you see the same fight I did? I don’t think I needed to.” Luke sassed, earning a hard glare from both myself and Jack.

“Check that ‘tude bro.”

“Yeah, Lu. Check the ‘tude.” I agreed with Jack, earning an incredulous look from the youngest boy.

“Get outta here,” Luke finally cracked a smile, trying to shoo me off. “We have to change.”

“Whatever, Luke. I’m telling your dad you’re being mean.”

“I’m sure I’m the least of his worries.” I had begun walking toward the doors of the locker room until Luke spoke up again. I turned to look at him.

“You and Quinn have had far more fights. I don’t think Jim is gonna be too worried.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t risk our shot at an NHL trophy, did we?”

“Jack.” I whined, looking toward the middle Hughes, who was busy removing his shoulder pads and his shirt.

“Luke, quit giving her trouble.” Jack scolded.

“Quit giving her trouble.” Luke mocked.

“Shut up!”

“Thut up!” Jack paused the second the words fell from Luke’s lips.

I took slow backwards steps toward the locker room door. I heard Luke mumble a brief sorry before I slipped out of the locker room. The only sounds that followed me were that of a loud thud and Luke quietly mumbling an, ‘ow.’

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes #quinn hughes

[enderpearlll]

Yandere!Bob Velseb - My Favourite Employee. PT 5.

This is it, the (possible) final part to My Favourite Employee. I have no clue if there’ll be another part, I’m still debating on it. Thank you all so much for the support, the love and anticipation is very much appreciated! Hopefully this is a moderately satisfactory end!

Gender-neutral reader, but pet names such as sweet pea and and darling are used.

TW/CW: Yandere content, emetophobia (vomiting), harsh language, murder, stalking, vivid descriptions of paranoia and anxiety, etc…

The name tag sat there on the countertop, shining in the light. Your coworkers name was engraved on it's surface, mocking you as you stared dead at it.

•... No. No, it couldn't be. It was probably a joke, right? A sick joke, Bob usually did make morbid jokes and told you weird stuff, it just had to be. You felt your blood run cold, your heart pounding out of your chest. "...B—Bob? What is this?" You asked, your voice cracking with fear. Bob chuckled lightly, like this was such a casual conversation. "The main ingredient, sweet pea."

•... And then you hurled onto the checkered floor, emptying out the contents of your stomach. No, no, no, no, no— This couldn't be happening. You fell onto the floor, clutching onto your arms and clawing into your skin as hard as you could. You felt like you were going to pass out, the room spinning around you. Bob gasped and ran around the counter and kneeled beside you, rubbing your back and brushing your hair away from your face.

• "Aw, you feelin' sick sweet pea? Don't worry, I'm here!" Bob smiled at you, his cheeks rosy and his eyes full of joy. He wrapped his arms around you, making you erupt with another bout of nausea. You slowly turned to face him, a blank look in your eyes. "Get. The. FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" You screamed, pushing yourself away and struggling to get to your feet. Bob was obviously hurt by your choice of words, slowly standing to his full height.

• "Aw, darlin', don't be that way... I did it for ya, I did it for us!" He chimed, holding his arms out towards you. "You're my favourite employee, how can I not do everything for ya?" You were petrified, everything clicking together in your head. The pet names, the affection, the favouritism... You started hyperventilating and stumbling backwards, shaking your head in disbelief. You trusted him, he was your friend—!

And now he was a monster.

• Bob's grin faltered as you quickly turned around, barreling into the kitchen. You glanced around and noticed the freezer, diving towards the door. You tried tugging and pulling on the latch, but it wouldn't budge. It was locked. Bob came through the doorway seconds after you, betrayal in his eyes. "S—Sweet pea, what are ya doin'...?" You cussed underneath your breath and stood there petrified as Bob stalked closer, approaching you like you were made of porcelain.

• He leaned out to caress your cheek, his touch as gentle as ever. But you slapped his hand away as tears welled in your eyes, clenching your jaw shut. "D—Don't touch me!" You yelled, before grabbing an empty crate and slamming it into the side of his head. Bob let out a scream of pain, falling onto his side as he groaned in pain. "D—Darlin'..." You dropped the crate and made a break for it, dashing out of the kitchen and into the hallway which led to a staff room and Bob's office.

• The staff room was always closed at night, since Bob made the rounds before you all started to clean. The only option was the office, so you took your chances and slammed into the door, which flew open sending you barreling to the floor. You winced in pain as you slammed the door, locking it behind you. You took a creaky old chair and propped it up against the doorknob, hoping that it would keep Bob out. You glanced around, having never seen the inside of his office before. The lights flickered on and off, obviously neglected. The security cameras were on as well.

• You tried to get off your ass and grabbed at the desk for support, but you couldn't get a good grip because of the piles of pictures on the desk. You accidentally sent some fluttering to the floor, landing on your behind again. The pictures landed around you, grabbing your attention. You grabbed one, which was a picture of you outside. Your eyes widened as you snatched another, which was you taking out the garbage. What the hell?

• You quickly stood up, glancing around the tiny office. There was a whole wall full of the creepy polaroid pictures, all of which were you. There was you sleeping, eating, walking, in public... You would probably puke again if you didn't already throw up your only meal of the day. All of them had dates scribbled in red ink, strung up with red string. and you turned around to see that there was even more photos on the desk.

• You tried to dig through the drawers, hoping to find a weapon or anything to use against him but what you found was nowhere near what you wanted to see. Your stuff, all the things that went missing over the last few weeks were in the drawers. Old toothbrushes, favourite clothes, used bandages, even more pictures... All of the drawers contained your stuff, nearly full to the brim of your belongings.

• You stared at the piles of stuff in the desk, and then at the cork board full of pictures on the other wall. This time, it wasn't pictures of you. It was of the people you knew and talked to, with some of them slashed with big red X's. You took a closer look and saw that those select few were ones of the missing people. Your coworker was the one of them. Same with the creepy guy, and the grocery clerk... You covered your mouth with a trembling hand when you noticed the cracked screen of your coworkers phone on the desk.

Bob was the one who killed them, he was the one who was stalking you, and he made you eat the remains of your coworker. This all felt like some sick nightmare that you wished you would wake up from already.

• You had to call the police, and quick. You quickly glanced over the cameras, and you saw that Bob was looking for you in the main area. You had enough time to make a call, and maybe enough time to find a weapon. So you looked for a phone, which was a old ancient phone buried underneath photos. You quickly dialled the police station, muttering 'please pick up' over and over underneath your breath.

• A gruff voice answered the call, obviously overtired. "Hello. Police station." You nearly cried in relief hearing his voice. "H—Hello? Yes, my name is..." You explained everything that you've seen, and that you had a major lead on where the missing people may be. You just hoped that they weren't all dead, like... You let a few tears fall, biting back a sob. "Please, you've got to believe me." You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The police officer was heard hollering for his partner before returning to the call.

• "Don't worry, we're on our way." And the call was ended with a click. You let out a sob of relief, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. Now, you just had to find a weapon—! *SLAM!*... Oh no.

• You looked at the hallway camera, mouth agape when you saw that Bob was at the door. This was it, this was where you died. By the hands of your obsessed boss who was stalking you for weeks, the source of all your paranoia. You screamed when he slammed his fist on the door, his voice echoing from the speaker and through the door.

"Sweet pea, don't do this to me! You're all I live for!" Hearing him say that made you sick. Bob had taken lives for you, which meant he wasn't kidding when he said he would do anything for you. You huddled in the corner, praying to whatever god was up there that you would make it out alive. Bob kept pounding on the door, getting more and more frantic.

• "GODDAMNIT SWEET PEA, OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, your heart skipping a beat. You never thought you'd see the day where Bob would get angry at you. You stared at the cameras, watching as Bob braced himself to charge into the office. You prepared yourself, shielding your face and sliding down the wall. The door slammed open, the chair flying to the ground. Bob towered above you, chest heaving up and down.

• You could barely see his expression, but you could tell that he was staring down at you and grinning wide. His eyes were wide with a mania you thought that you'd never see coming from a man that called himself your so called protector. Bob's eyes were wild and glistening with infatuation, his demeanour changing immediately once he saw you cowering away from him.

• "Darlin'... You ain't scared of me, ain't ya?" Bob said, his voice tender as he stared down at you. You swallowed thickly, tears falling down your face as you looked down and shielded yourself from him. He kneeled down in front of you, a small smile on his face. "Please, talk to me..." He reached towards you, but you had immediately flinched away. Bob's face dawned with a look of pure terror when you flinched away from his touch, a quiet sob wracking through you.

• "No, no, no, sweet pea... I didn't mean to scare ya, honest—" The sound of a pistol cocking interrupted Bob's rambling, making you both snap your attention to the culprit. Two of the police officers had stood in the doorway, guns pointed at Bob. The taller one gestured at Bob then at the other officer, and the former nodded at him in return. "Bob Velseb, you are under arrest. Put your hands up."

• Bob slowly craned his neck to stare at the officers then back at you, betrayal clear on his face. "... Sweet pea? Y—You're not gonna let them take me, right?" You bit your lip and cowered further into the corner, watching as Bob's hands started to tremble. "No, no, no, no, no, sweet pea, you can't do this to me—" Bob begged, grabbing your hands and pulling them towards himself, tugging you closer.

• "Please, you can't let them take them take me away from ya— Darlin', listen to me—!" Bob pleaded, but you only shook your head as the officers grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Bob fought against them, his gentle demeanour quickly fading into anger. "GET OFFA ME—! NO! SWEET PEA!" Bob had launched his fist into the face of the moustached officer, who's nose broke with a sickening crack. Blood spilled everywhere, making you grimace.

• "Well, you might as well call for that backup now that we have it Jack!" The shorter officer shouted at the taller one, his voice nasally as he tried to keep Bob from getting to you. Jack had cringed and said "Oh yeah." In return, pressing a button on his walkie talkie. Other officers had come storming in, much more equipped for the job than both Jack and John. Bob was still struggling, fighting with all of his might against three officers and hollering at them. "DON'T TOUCH 'EM, YOU SICK PIGS!"

• Bob looked at you one last time, a strained grin on his face. "I—I'll be back for ya, sweet pea, I swear on it!" You shivered under his intense gaze, glancing back at Jack and John, who were currently trying to avoid getting blood all over the evidence. "I promise ya, we'll be happy again, I love you, sweet pea—" And with that, the backup team of officers dragged him away, his screaming still heard from outside of the restaurant.

• Both Jack and John had helped you get off of the floor, examining the room and staring at the wall full of photos. They both collectively shared a wide-eyed look before looking back at you with shock. You all couldn't believe that you were all alive. "Um... You'll have to come to the station, by the way." The taller officer said, handing John another tissue. "Oh wow, you think?" John said bitterly, holding a cluster of tissues underneath his crooked nose.

• You took one final glance at the security cameras, and Bob was staring dead into the camera at the front of the building, an impossibly wide grin on his face. You felt an overwhelming amount of emotions hit you all at once, falling to the ground again and staring at your shaking hands. This was it, this was the end of this nightmare.

You could only hope that was the last you would see of that smile.

(But will it be? Lol I have no clue if there'll be a part 6 so... maybe.)

#yandere headcanons #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere bob velseb #yandere spooky month #yandere writing #yandere x you #spooky month #spooky month x reader #yandere #bob velseb #bob velseb x reader #my favourite employee

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 4

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Family dynamics that contain debating as a method of communication, heavy familial expectations, changing relationships, talk of pregnancy and childbirth. Summary: A family dinner at the White House, a meddling best friend, and the mysterious case of the missing Congressman. Notes: Shout out to Keri for making me unexpectedly bawl about three-quarters of the way into this chapter. Thanks for that, babe. As usual, sorry for an errors I might have missed and thanks for reading!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

It isn’t unusual for a family to sit down to dinner together during the week. If you’re a busy family, living scattered about in different places, even a once-a-week dinner is worth scheduling. But when you’re the First Family, it gets a little complicated. The food is always amazing. That isn’t up for debate. And it is nice to actually see your mother when she isn’t surrounded by a swarm of staff or on a television screen. Alex and June are great too, when they aren’t being absolute pains in the asses. The only thing you’re hoping is that no one asks you about Sam at dinner tonight.

Family dinners always occur in the residence, around the long wooden table that is a substitute for the one you had grown up sitting around. No press, no phones at the table and the only interruptions that are allowed during this time is a matter of national crisis. Everything else can wait. It's why your mother is a successful politician while balancing her family, she gives everything its proper time. "So a little birdy told me that your inn is booked solid for the next few weeks." She looks over at you with a proud smile, aware that you work incredibly hard to make your vision, your dream, a success.

“Through April.” You nod, finishing a bite of food. The White House chef takes his chicken Marsala very seriously and it’s so good that you can’t get enough of it. “It never fails. People are always excited to see the cherry blossoms.”

“Will you still be able to attend the State dinner?” Although it was more a mandatory invitation, she would understand if you couldn’t break away. After all, she has a very demanding job as well.

“Of course.” Not aware that you had had any choice in the matter, you get smirked half-glances from your siblings that tell you they would try to get out too, if they could. “Although…I do have a question about that.”

She looks up from cutting her chicken, your father looking up from his glass of wine curiously. “What is that?”

“I know that it’s only a week away, so I am not asking for anything besides clarification.” Something about your parents’ reaction makes you feel like you need to say that out loud. Otherwise you might be up for one of your family’s famously endless debates. “Has the seating arrangement already been done so that all of us,” you motion to yourself and your two younger siblings. “Have a plus one?”

“Of course.” Your father has been the one handling the details of the State dinner and has meticulously planned the family seating arrangement. “Why?”

“Just double-checking. It’s the first State dinner, after all. I just want to make sure it goes smoothly.” It doesn’t matter that you were desperately hoping he would say no, or instantly offer to rearrange the seating chart if needed, or literally anything else that would get you out of having to have an uncomfortable conversation with Sam after barely talking to him at all the last few days. Maybe you could ask Juan to…Nope. There’s a rehearsal dinner at the inn that night. Shit.

“Good.” He smiles and gives you a knowing look. “I did not place Sam and you near too many political adversaries.” He snorts. “He won’t spend the entire night in a debate.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Dad. Thanks.” There is a solid chance Sam would prefer that over the stony silence between the two of you, but you can’t say that. Not with your mother at the table. It will turn into a full-blown debate over what has gone wrong in your relationship and how to fix it, and you don’t need your meddling siblings to have that kind of ammunition on you. “So,” you turn to them instead. “Alex? Junie? You guys have dates?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m bringing Dave, since he wants to go into law school.” He huffs. “He wants to intern with one of the senators.” Junie just shrugs. “Not yet.” She murmurs, bored by the idea of the dinner at all.

“Dave gets to come to a State dinner?” Your brother and his boyfriend generally keep things under wraps, and it works well since they’ve been best friends since they were kids. Like the gay male version of you and Sydney except they became a couple. “That’s sweet, Al. Maybe he’ll actually get you to behave yourself.”

“Never.” He flashes you a grin, making your mother huff in exasperation and amusement.

“No potential guest on the horizon for you, Junebug?” Your father asks, looking to his youngest child on the other end of the table.

“I’m either going to have someone want to go so they can rub elbows with politicians and brag they went to the State dinner, or be completely bored out of their minds.” She shrugs. “So I don’t know if I want to ask anyone.”

“Is that even an option?” You’re really trying not to make it sounds like you’re hoping for a yes, but you are. To be told you can go solo would solve every single one of your problems at the moment.

“We cannot have empty chairs.” Your father shakes his head. “Junie, if you don’t pick someone, we will have to find a filler.”

“Do you want me to ask Dave to bring his brother?” Alex offers, always only helpful to the baby of the family. “Noah can dance, doesn’t care about politics, and you can bitch about college the whole time of you want.”

“Please?” Her eyes turn hopeful and she knows that will be better than some filler guest.

“You got it.” Alex grins and flashes that thousand watt smile at your parents. “See? Problem solved.”

“Thank you.” Your father looks relieved and your mother gives him a smile before cutting into her chicken again. “Happy to have that settled.” She hums.

Settled. Ugh. If you weren’t about to turn thirty, you would be pouting at the table. Instead you let discussion float by, as your father double checks that all three of you have your White House approved outfits for the night and you’ve managed to memorize all the facts and statistics on the Spanish royal family that were handed out by your mother’s staff.

The dinner moves on to dinner dessert and the dinner plates are changed for wonderful pots of chocolate lava cake, a back up dessert for the State dinner for anyone with a gluten intolerance or nut allergy.

“This is amaaazing.” June groans, ever the chocolate fanatic.

“It is delicious.” Your mother agrees. “Rich.” She looks over at your father. “You said this was gluten free?”

“Hard to believe isn’t it?” He laughed like he’s got some trick up his sleeve but he’s really just pleased. “Apparently this is one of the easier cakes to do with alternative flours.”

“Perfect.” She might be President of the United States, but she and your father were a team. “You did wonderful finding an alternative, honey.”

“You like the orange sauce with it?” Everyone’s anxieties are high for this first occasion and your father wants everything to be perfect.

“Perhaps offer a raspberry or strawberry?” She suggests, looking around the table for everyone’s opinions. “What do you all think? In addition?”

“It’s a little sweet,” you admit, hating to ever disappoint your father. But there is a reason you all have so many round table discussions in your family. “Maybe blood orange would offset the sweetness a little? And be a little more luxurious?”

“Ohhhh blood orange would be amazing.” Alex chimes in, nodding in agreement. “Balance the sweetness of the chocolate.”

“Oh my god yes,” June groans, already having mostly inhaled her lava cake and furtively peaking to see if either you or Alex is going to be willing to give yours up.

Alex snorts when he sees that beseeching look on his younger sister’s face and slides his lava cake towards her.

“This is what you should have for your birthday.” Junie tells you emphatically, digging in to what’s left of your brother’s dessert. “No question.”

“Why? So you can eat all of it?” Your brother snorts. “But-“ he looks back over at you. “What are you having at your party?”

"I honestly haven't thought about it." There's still a month left until your birthday so it hadn't even crossed your mind yet. "Maybe I'll just go to a Nationals game if I can get away from work. Who knows?"

“Oh honey, you shouldn’t do that.” Your mother huffs slightly and shakes her head. “Go to a Nationals game, sure. But you need to have a party.”

"Why?" It sort of feels like whining this time, but you have to wonder what her logic is. "Because I'm one of the First Kids? Because I'm turning 30?"

“Because you deserve a party where others cater to your wants and is about you? Celebrating my oldest baby’s birthday.” She implores, expression soft and loving.

If there is one thing your mother is annoyingly good at it, it's showering love on her children despite being busy. No birthday ever went by without acknowledgement. No success uncelebrated. No set back unconquered. "So does that mean you and Dad are going to throw it and all I have to do is show up?" It's highly unlikely considering how busy they are, but you have to try, right?

“Absolutely.” Her grin is positively smug, like you have fallen into her trap, which - you have. “Of course, we are not going to have it at the White House.” She rolls her eyes slightly. “But you just pretend it will be a surprise. I’ll let Sam know where to bring you.”

"I can't know where to go myself?" Since there's a chance Sam won't even be in the picture in a few weeks, you would rather just have her tell you. "And please don't make it some big, formal thing? If I get told to wear an evening gown to my birthday, I'm not showing up."

“Nothing formal.” She promises. “No ballgown, but a nice dress.” She compromises, tilting her head. “For pictures? Not official ones, of course.”

Regular negotiations with the President should make you eligible for some kind of ambassador position even as her daughter, and you tilt your head at your mother before making a full agreement. "Cocktail attire maximum, the music cannot be described as orchestral anything, and the fancier the venue is, the lower class the food has to be. Those are my conditions."

“Finger foods inside of an upscale tavern?” She poses, smirking slightly at the way you negotiate with her. Out of all the children, you are the closest to her personality, even if you don’t see it. “With specially crafted cocktails to celebrate your birthday? And a playlist composed of your favorites songs from each year?”

"I'll build a core list for the music. Because I don't trust Alex not to sneak Cotton Eye Joe or something into the mix." Like any good wheeling-and-dealing adult child, you have to get just one more compromise in there before sealing the deal. "And I will provide you with a list of friends I'd like invited outside of the normal group. Obviously I know you'll give the information to Sydney, Anna Leigh, and Issy."

“Deal.” She nods and looks very pleased with the situation. “Honey, I will plan this.” She promises, reaching out and patting the back of your father’s hand. “I want to plan it.”

"Along with running the free world, she's also a party planner." Your brother snorts, always ready to tease. "You know you can just hire Juan to do it, Mom."

“No.” She snorts and blows a raspberry at your brother. “It’s my baby’s birthday. I want to plan the perfect party to ring in thirty.”

"And somehow Birdie still doesn't get that she's the favorite." June laughs, throwing you a smirk before she rolls her eyes playfully at Alex.

“Now you know that is not true.” Your mother protests, rolling her eyes. “I love all of you equally.”

"Yes, Mother." Alex and June chime in unison, making all of you break into laughter at the same time around the table.

“Managing you kids is almost harder than running the country.” She grumbles, even though she’s grinning.

"We just wanted you to have a lot of practice before you got to the White House." You assure her, still laughing with your siblings. "Because being Governor of Pennsylvania was definitely not enough. Your children are the real test."

“Yes they are.” She agrees, laughing with all of you and your father. The truth was, she has incredible children that she’s proud of beyond measure. Often she tells the world that her best accomplishment has been raising the three of you and it’s not line to appeal to her core voters, she truly believes that.

"So, I have a logistical question." Satisfied temporarily with the amount of chocolate consumed in one dinner, June sits back in her chair with her glass of iced tea and proves once more than kids take more corralling than countries. "If the State dinner is next Saturday, does that count as family dinner?

Your father rolls his eyes and sighs while your mom narrows her eyes in thought and looks towards her husband for his thoughts. “What do you think, honey?”

"The purpose of Friday night dinners is to have a chance to sit down together as a family and catch up. Enjoy each other's company. Celebrate the week's small wins." It's what they had agreed on years ago when this tradition had been born. "So by that logic, I would say no. Since we won't be sitting around enjoying each other's company while the king and queen of Spain are visiting." He narrows his eyes though, in a way that definitely speaks to how long your parents have been together. They have identical expressions right now. "Why, Junebug? Did you make other plans?"

“I—” she falters for a moment and then shrugs. “There’s a party I wanted to go to, but I don’t have to go if my presence is required.”

Your parents exchange a glance, that decades-long nonverbal communication at work for not the first time today. "Why don't we have dinner a little earlier?" You father offers. Compromise is always the name of the game in the First Family. "If we have dinner at six instead of seven that night, will that give you enough time, kiddo?"

A partial victory counts, so she nods. "That would work. It would give me plenty of time to be annoyed at my security detail."

"Sounds like a plan." Your mother smirks, relieved to see that none of her children have tried to give their agents the slip yet. She had expected it from June, if she's honest. She's definitely the most independent and the most rebellious.

"Wish we didn't have to have them." She pout slightly, even though she had known this was part of the deal. She hadn't expected it to chafe so much though, if she was honest. She have been very innocent in believing they would just a vague shadow.

"I'd rather have you annoyed by their presence and be safe, than let you go without them and have something happen to any of you." It's non-negotiable, you all know that, and your mother is frankly very glad that it comes with the office. Trying to make sure all three of you are safe without the Secret Service? No way.

"I know." She doesn't have to be happy about it though. "I just— wish the world didn't suck so badly sometimes." She murmurs quietly.

"Here here." Alex nods, knowing that all the different ways the world sucks have affected him in ways the rest of the family hasn't experienced on their own. Everyone may tout their belief in soulmates loudly, but he can't even go out and hold his soulmate's hand without risk. If anything, he's grateful for the Secret Service agents that have been assigned to make sure he stays safe.

"I know that you are disappointed that I haven't been able to push through the soulmate resolution yet." Your mother is addressing Alex, but she shoots him a reassuring look. "But I know that it is close." She looks towards you. "Sam has been a strong voice in the fight to approving the resolution." She praises. "You should be very proud of him."

Mom, you’ve only been in office a month. No one at this table expects you to work miracles.” You steadily ignore the remark about Sam, feeling like your blood pressure is rising a little every time he gets mentioned tonight. “The Resolution is a really good piece of legislation and it’s only a matter of time before it gets passed.” Looking to your brother, though, you offer him the proudest smile you can manage. “And then this pain in the ass can have the White House’s first ever gay wedding. One for the history books.”

Alex snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no.” He huffs. “I don’t want a stuffy White House wedding where I have to invite every dignitary I know. I’ll leave that to you.” He hums with a smirk.

“I’m not getting married anytime soon so what does it matter?” An awful lot of people have been very invested in your future lately and it’s grinding on you to the point where you shoot back a reply without even thinking of it.

Your father’s brow shoots up, surprised at the tone you had used and he glances at your mother, a silent look passing between them.

The silence at the table is ringing, and you put down your wine glass as delicately as you can manage. “What?” You ask, looking around the table but not willing to apologize for being cranky. “I’m not engaged, am I? It could be years before I settle down.”

"Nothing." Your mother shakes her head and smiles at you. "Things will happen in their own time." She councils softly. "You don't have to adhere to anyone's timeline but your own."

“Right.” The best you can do is sit back and have the decency to look a little sheepish, but you can feel the question marks in the eyes of your family members all watching you. It is massively uncomfortable at best.

"Okay." Alex senses something is wrong with you, that you want the subject to change so he claps his hands. "So, I have a question." He recaptures his parents attention. "Do we have to dance at the State dinner?" He asks seriously. "Because you know Dave has two left feet and I can't be embarrassed like that."

“You can dance with your sisters,” your father offers, sensing the same thing as his son. “Or with your mother, or the queen? Or any of the young men there, if you want to end up above the fold of the Washington Post.” It’s purely teasing, of course, since anyone who knows Alex knows he is only in the closet publicly.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. "Nahhhhhh." He waves away the idea. "I don't want to have to hire a PR manager this early in my life." He jokes. "It would drain my savings."

"I guess we'll all behave ourselves." June observes with a wry smile.

"That would be extremely appreciated." Your mother hums, smiling at all of you. "I know you all have busy schedules, but I am so glad we can still get together."

It's Sunday before the dress arrives at the inn for the State dinner, and you and Sydney were enjoying a rare afternoon off together when Malachi lead the worried-looking White House staffer around to the back porch of the inn to let them hand it over to you in person. Sending them off again with your thanks, you push out a sigh. "I haven't heard from Sam in almost a week," you admit when your best friend fixes you with an inquisitive expression.

"Have you reached out to him?" Sydney asks, frowning as she holds the passion fruit tea she has been obsessed with over the last few days. "He might be embarrassed and unsure of how he will be received?"

"I sent him a text yesterday asking if we were still on for our plans tonight, but...nothing so far." Making plans ahead of time had been a definite strength for the two of you before now. But since Valentine's Day? Communication has been non-existent.

"Have you tried his office?" It's not like Sam to just blow you off, so she wonders if he's been caught up in meetings.

"I—" You blow out another breath. One that feels like defeat. "I'm afraid of calling and having Vanessa pick up," you admit. It feels stupid but you can't help it. "The idea that she could be feeling chatty and say something about Marcus just...I know that's stupid."

"Have you tried to text Marcus?" That's the next question is the most obvious one to take the conversation. If you aren't in contact with Marcus or he hasn't responded to you, that could be why you are feeling like a duck out of water.

"No." That idea makes you shake your head sternly and reach for your drink. The covered porch and little space heater is nice for sitting in the sunniest hours of the day, but you still made yourself a cup of hot coffee to sip while you sat with Sydney. "No...I mean...he probably hates me by now."

"I don't think he would hate you." She's already making an note to have Juan reach out to Pike himself. Maybe take him out for a beer and feel him out on the situation. "You cancelled a causal invite to dinner, you didn't cancel taking him to the State dinner."

"I can't even think about the dinner." Your fingers drum on the box beside you, knowing the dress inside is beautiful but not wanting to face the reality of how uncomfortable the night will be. "If I don't have a date I have to tell my father as soon as possible and I'll get stuck with a million questions and a seat filler."

"Then you need to call Sam." She huffs. "Even if he's fuming at you, I doubt he would miss the State dinner."

"I know, I know, I know you're right." But you don't really want to call him. If it's been almost a week and he's effectively ghosted you? That seems like a pretty clear signal to you.

"Babe....you need closure." The bags under your eyes aren't doing you any good, despite the sleepy time tea that she had been sending to you. "If you are ending things with him, you need to be an adult about it."

"Ugh." You groan, letting your head tip back so the sound drags out dramatically. "Stop making sense and giving good advice, it's interfering with my denial and the reconstruction of my emotional walls."

She laughs, although it's not really funny. She knows where you and it's a shitty place to be. Sighing softly, she picks up your phone and holds it out to you.

"I hate you." Even muttered good naturedly, you still snag your phone from her hand and clutch your coffee mug like a security blanket. Sam's office number is programed into your phone and you squeak with combined fear and frustration as the call connects and begins to ring.

"Congressman Chase's office." Vanessa's voice comes over the line cheerfully and professionally. "How may I be of assistance today?"

Don't be a coward, you remind yourself sternly, as soon as you hear her voice. "Hi Vanessa." Saying your name clearly eliminates any assumption that his staff might recognize your voice, even though you know a few people absolutely do. Some of his staffers like to chat to you while you wait for Sam to come to the phone when you call his office. "Is Sam available?"

Her use of your last name is merely one of respect, choosing to keep things professional with the Congressman's girlfriend. Slightly confused because you are calling for him at the office. "Did he not tell you?" She asks, her voice lower than the usual chipper tone.

"Apparently not." There is no way you're going to fess up that Sam hasn't spoken to you in days, or returned even so much as a text message. Now you're concerned something might be going on.

"The Congressman has been sick all week." She only knows how bad it is because he had spend the first few days trying to work through it. "He has pneumonia." She huffs quietly. "He's been barely reachable but I had though the would have at least let you know."

He's sick. You barely manage to swallow a sigh of relief at that news, and only because you know how inappropriate that would sound to his aide. "I hadn't heard the official diagnosis." It's as smooth a lie as you can muster at the moment, and you cling to your warm mug all the harder. He's sick. That's why he hasn't called. "Thank you, Vanessa."

"Of course." She's confused, but she also knows that the medication the doctor had prescribed him was to help him rest since he had been trying to push himself. "Anytime."

The groan of relief comes only after you disconnect the call, and you deflate into yourself in your chair. "He's sick," you tell Sydney with a groan. The heel of one hand digs into your closed eye like you're trying to banish a headache but it's really just that you feel the pressure releasing from your mind. "He has pneumonia. He's been out since the beginning of the week."

"Okaaaaay." Surprising, but honestly, it's not? Considering it's Sam and he's pretty direct about things. It's one of those traits that Sydney admires about him. "That's a very valid reason for not texting or calling." She admits. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I'm not thrilled that he's sick, but I'm very relieved that he didn't just ghost me. He sleeps like a rock around the clock when he's sick, so he's probably just passed out at home." The one other time you had seen him with a cold was several months ago, and it seemed like he had slept for three days straight before springing back up on his feet like nothing had happened.

"He didn't just ghost you." She grins at you, even though you are still conflicted about Sam, the fact that you are relieved by this means there's something there. "Do you want me to whip him up some chicken noodle soup to drop at his doorstep?"

"Do you want to go upstairs?" When the two of you actually get the chance to cook together it's always fun, and this sounds like the perfect opportunity. You didn't have a dinner plan anyway. Chicken noodle soup for two is easy enough. "I did my grocery shopping this morning so I know I have everything. And..." you pat the dress box beside you. "I should hang this up. I don't think velvet wrinkles but I still don't want to take a chance."

"Absolutely." She sends you a smile, happy that you look relieved and like a weight has been lifted off your chest. "We will have Congressman Chase cured with our famous chicken noodle soup in no time."

Juan had taken the afternoon to go for a ride around the Virginia backroads so it's just you girls right now and that sounds pretty perfect. You gather up your things and nab Agent Bailey, heading upstairs to get to work and try to ease your mind a little. "I do still have a problem," you point out, when the elevator hits the top floor.

"What's that?" Sydney frowns, looking at the screen that shows the floor you are on. She really hates elevators, but this helps her mitigate that fear that the damn thing would plunge into the basement like all those action movies she had watched as a kid.

The doors slide open and you let her out first, stepping up behind her to unlock the door and let the three of you inside. "Now I definitely need to find a new date for the State dinner."

"Oh shit." Sam can't attend the State dinner with pneumonia, it would be too great of a risk. "Well, I can have Juan escort you." She had plans to have dinner with her parents and reveal the name they had chosen, but this was important and she could reschedule.

"Honey, no." She's been excited about the dinner with her parents for a week already and it wouldn't be fair to take Juan away from that. "You guys have family plans and I'm not going to ruin that. I'll just...think of someone else."

"Malachi?" She offers. "He would look good in a tuxedo."

For a split second you get excited about the idea, but you sink again as you readjust the dress box on your hip. "I need him here that night." You tell her, groaning about it. "We have that six-person reservation that needs a translator. Malachi is the only one on staff who speaks Hindi fluently."

"Fuck." The fact is there aren't a lot of men that can just be called up last minute to look good in a suit and be cleared to be in a roomful of the world's top dignitaries. Unless... "I have an idea and you're going to hate it." She promises as you open the door to your apartment. "Give me your phone."

"I trust you with my life but I do not like that tone in your voice." Still, you hand over your phone with confusion on your face and start to unpack the burgundy velvet evening gown that was altered to fit you perfectly. "Please don't call any of my exes."

"I am not calling any of your exes." She promises you, opening the phone with a code and opening your phone book. It's easy to find the number that she is looking for, because you are a stickler for putting numbers in properly and hits call, changing the phone to speaker so you can hear it ring.

The call rings three times before it connects, and even if Sydney hadn't been angling the phone away from you so that you couldn't see the name, you're pulling the dress out of the box when you hear the unmistakable "Hello?" on the other end.

Suddenly you're standing straight up and glaring at your best friend – your former best friend – for this ultimate betrayal. "Marcus." Your voice cracks when you say his name and you just want the floor to open and swallow you up. "Hi. How— how are you?"

"Oh, hi." It's obvious that he's confused as to why you are calling him on a Sunday, but he doesn't hang up the phone. "I'm good, how are you?" He asks politely, actually sounding like he is interested in the answer.

"I..." You sink down on your bed, letting Sydney continue to hold your phone, and hug the dress to your chest. "I'm calling for a couple of reasons," you decide. Now that you've been confronted with this phone call, it all sort of comes tumbling out. "I wanted to apologize, first. For being vague on rescheduling our Indian dinner last weekend, and then taking off like the Wicked Witch was after me when I saw you the other morning. I've...it's been a weird week. And that was rude of me. So I apologize."

“I understand.” Marcus gives a rueful chuckle. “I’ve had a bit of a weird one myself. My phone has been broken three different times in the past week alone.” He snorts. “And half my contacts and messages have been unrecoverable according to the techs at the store.” He sighs. “So if you send me a message or something and I didn’t answer, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you.”

The I told you so look on Syd's face causes you to throw a pillow at her and you shake your head as though he was in the room with you instead of over the phone. "I texted you once about rescheduling dinner,' you admit. "But...I have a slightly different suggestion, if...if you want to hear it? And I would consider it an enormous favor."

It’s on the tip of his tongue to decline, but he is curious to hear what this favor is. “Hit me.” He tells you with a slight chuckle. “But not too hard. I have to work tomorrow.”

"I promise I'm not capable of punching through a cell phone." It's easy to talk to him. So easy. And it lulls you into a momentary false sense of security as you sit back on your bed. "But...I have a plus one to a State dinner for the Spanish royal family on Saturday night and I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party at the White House?" It's such an insane thing to ask a person that you almost feel like it's an out of body experience, but there it is. It's out in the open. There's no taking it back now.

“I-“ Of all the questions he tries to anticipate, that was not it. He frowns slightly, wondering about the congressman, until he remember that Vanessa had said he was sick with pneumonia. It’s likely him being sick has put you into a frenzy to find someone to go. Not the reason he would like to have dinner with you, but he wants to view you as a friend and this will be a friendly, public event. “Sounds like I need to get my tuxedo to the cleaners.”

"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver." The air whooshes out of you all at once and you fall back onto your bed with a gigantic sigh. "I will come and pick you up myself, the food is going to be amazing, and you can rag on me with my pain-in-the-ass siblings all night. I can't say how grateful I am, Marcus. Really. Thank you so much."

“It’s a honor that you even considered me to escort you” Marcus tells you truthfully. “I’ll be exited to go and I promise to keep the ragging to a minimum.”

"You've earned the right, I promise." You blow out another breath and manage to sit up but solidly ignore the smug look on your best friend's face. "I'll text you the details, if that's okay? Is your phone situation all worked out?"

He laughs quietly. “Hopefully so. All I know is that it is never a good idea to set your phone on the roof of the car when the rookie is driving.” Marcus snorts. “If I don’t get a message by tomorrow, I’ll call you. Sound good?”

"Sounds perfect." Quiet for a second, you take your phone out of Sydney's hand and smile, the smallest twitch of the thing in the corners of your mouth. "Thank you, Marcus. I owe you, but I promise we'll have fun."

“Don’t even worry about it.” He promises. “Well, I hope you have a great rest of your weekend, okay?” He asks. “And tell Sam to feel better.”

"I will." Passing that message along might be slightly strained, but it's the thought that counts. Thanking him again, you press the red button on your phone screen to end the call and groan so loudly that Agent Bailey sticks her head into the room just to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. "I can't believe you did that!" You squawk, throwing a second pillow at Sydney. This one hits her square in the shoulder where the first one missed.

“But tell me it wasn’t worth it?” She challenges, throwing the pillow back at you. “You have a date for the State dinner and you learned that he wasn’t ignoring you either.” She folds her arms over her chest and looks at you with a smug smile. “Come on, what other problems do we need to solve? World hunger?”

"Go to Friday night dinner in my place if you want to work on global issues." You snark playfully. The fact is, you know she's right. Annoyingly so, actually, and right now you're still processing.

“Maybe now you will get some sleep.” She huffs, still smug that everything was working out. “You’ve got a dress, a date and I’ll even have one of the wedding stylists that owes me a favor come do your hair and makeup.” She hums. “I made a special dinner for her and her boyfriend for Valentine’s.” She explains.

"What are you, the Romance Fairy?" Dragging yourself off the bed, you carry the dress over to your closet and carefully hang it up where nothing bad could ever touch it. The garment bag that it's in will help make sure of that. "Come on, we have soup to make."

She doesn’t mention that the State dinner isn’t supposed to be romantic. She just grins and follows you. “Yes ma’am, Hummingbird, ma’am.”

"Oh god, don't call me that around him." This, in particular, is an incredibly stern warning. At this point you're just grateful that the Secret Service use your callsign quietly enough that they're not overheard when they say it. "I'll die of embarrassment."

“I won’t.” She promises, aware that you aren’t quite ready to address that particular issue.

“I just don’t even want to think about that.” You don’t want to, but you have been. Rather constantly, which is a growing issue.

“Let’s just get you through the State dinner and your birthday.” Syd suggests. “Then you can let that big brain of yours work overtime on non-issues.”

Throwing Sydney a look of dismay over the last of your coffee, you pout animatedly. “I debated terms of my birthday with my mother at the last dinner.”

“And?” Sydney almost laughs at your look and turns away to start rummaging through your fridge for the ingredients for the soup. “What was negotiated?”

“Cocktail. High end pub, finger foods and a DJ.” You shake your head and huff a sigh. “I said I should just go to a ball game, but that was unacceptable.”

“It’s hard to run security for the president at a stadium.” She reminds you. “And your mom would want to be there.”

“I just…” Looking back at Sydney, you cross your arms and shrug. “I don’t think I have all that much to celebrate this year, I guess.”

“You have a lot to celebrate.” Your friend will always hype you up and she does so now. “You have your health, a successful business with your best friend.” She cheeses playfully at you. “Your mother is the president of the United States and….” She shrugs. “You’ve hit your dirty thirties. We have to celebrate.”

“I can’t exactly have dirty thirties when my mother is the president.” You throw your arms around her again and squeeze her shoulders, grateful for every second you have Sydney by your side. You’ve been each other’s ride or die since first grade and that will never change. “And you’re pregnant, so you already got dirty.”

“I did.” She snorts with a wicked grin. “And I enjoyed every second of it, too.”

“Perv.” You really can’t help but tease her, but it’s purely out of affection. “It’s just because you’ve got your super sexy soulmate. The Triple S is undeniable.”

“He is sexy.” She can’t deny that, grinning wickedly as she rubs her stomach. “And getting sexier. Did I tell you he’s starting to get sympathy cravings? Dad bod mode is close.”

“Your wildest dreams are all about to come true.” The two of you giggle together as you start to pull ingredients out of the fridge, getting started on cooking that batch of soup.

“So, do you feel better now?” Sydney asks, organizing the vegetables and opening the drawer for the carrot peeler. She had helped you set up the kitchen to her specifications so she could easily find what she wanted when she cooked here.

“A little.” It’s relief more than anything, as you start to peel fresh ginger. It’s the secret ingredient to your best ever chicken noodle soup. “And then I feel guilty for it, which is fucked up. Like I think Marcus might actually enjoy himself on Saturday just for the bragging rights and then I immediately feel bad for thinking that.”

“Why do you feel bad?” She cocks her head as she peels the outer layer off the crisp, orange carrots. “I think most people will enjoy themselves just for bragging rights, it’s brag worthy.”

“Promise you won’t judge me and promise you won’t tell anyone. Not even Juan.” Holding your pinky finger out to her is the most solemn promise you can possibly as of your friend, and neither one of you has ever refused it.

“Of course.” Juan knows everything you are comfortable with, but she would never betray your trust like that. She hooks her finger around yours and looks at you for an explanation.

“I…” Glancing around, you see that Agent Bailey has dutifully slipped out of earshot and is sitting on your couch with a crossword book firmly in hand. “I feel guilty because now that it’s set…I can’t help wishing it was a date,” you admit quietly, hanging your head turn.

“It kind of is a date.” Syd admits, looking at you with a sense of regret for teasing you. “A platonic on, but a date nonetheless.” She hums. “Just like you and I have dates. Friend dates.”

“That…regrettably…is not what I mean.” The best you can really do is shrug your shoulders in defeat. “Friend dates are awesome and I will take you on dates for the rest of our lives. But I—I wish this was different than that. And it sucks.”

“You can’t help attraction.” She argues softly, knowing that you will still feel guilty. You are very stern about cheating, and this is veering into emotional territory for you. “He might not- it should just be about the dinner.”

“I know.” Peel ginger. Grate ginger. Try not to think too hard about what Marcus will look like in a tux. “I know. You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs softly. “I shouldn’t have pushed.” She feels guilty, especially now that she knows how you are feeling about this.

“How could you have known? I’ve kept this as firmly to myself as I possibly could.” And keeping things from Sydney is the most impossible task in the world for you. “Besides. He was the right choice.”

“Still doesn’t make me any less sorry.” She huffs, washing the carrots and bringing them over to the chopping board. “I don’t want you to be stressed, I want you to be happy.”

“I’m going to be stressed until I make a decision about what to do.” Once the ginger is done you move on to washing and slicing celery. “And I don’t know how to make that decision.”

Sydney sighs heavily. “I hate that for you.” She admits softly. “If you need to talk, you let me know.”

“What does Juanito think I should do?” You know her well enough to know that she’s talked to her husband — her own soulmate — about this at least a little.

“Juan thinks that you should be happy.” She hums softly. “Whatever that entails. As long as you are fair to everyone.”

"No groundbreaking advice?" If you're honest with yourself, you were kind of hoping for it. Instead, you're definitely floundering.

Sydney stops chopping and points the tip of the knife at you. “You know what he would say, Birdie.”

Ugh. That's true. You do. Juan is unfalteringly trustworthy like that. "That I have to talk to both of them..."

“Even if Marcus isn’t your soulmate, you are attracted to him, and it’s worth seeing if he might be the one you want to be with.” She shrugs, knowing that it’s easy to give advice when she’s found her soulmate and is blissfully happy. “Or it might just say that Sam isn’t the one.”

"Have you noticed a pattern?" Even as you're making the soup, going through effort and putting care into a dish to comfort and heal, a pattern is becoming as obvious as daybreak.

“I have.” She nods and looks back up at you. “Have you noticed that pattern? Or have you just been ignoring it?”

"I think..." A heavy sigh escapes you as you deposit the clean, diced celery in a bowl. "I might have been ignoring it."

“It’s okay to admit that a relationship has run its course.” She reminds you. “Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be.”

"It's just...no version of this conversation we've had in the last few weeks has ended with the conclusion that I should stay with Sam. And that...that is not how I ever expected things to go. He's such a sweet guy and we've had such a good time." Just as unexpected as this conclusion is the tear that rolls down your cheek, and you brush it away immediately. "It's shitty to break up with someone while they're sick, right?"

“I think you owe him a face to face explanation.” She doesn’t tell you that it’s wrong, if that’s what you want to do. She’ll support whatever you want.

"Shit," you groan, reaching next for an onion. Sydney has trained you to be a dutiful sous chef for so long that now you just do her prep work without thinking. "This is going to suck, isn't it?"

“It doesn’t have to.” She counters. “You said Sam’s reaction was….surprisingly hostile. Maybe he’s had some doubts about the relationship too.”

"If he was hostile about the fact that I was standing my ground, he's either going to be hostile about being broken up with, or just completely silent." Sam doesn't take rejection well, you've seen it in a more professional setting but it will certainly apply here.

“Was he hostile?” She asks seriously. “Or were you both in unknown territory and stubbornly waiting for the other to give in?”

Groaning animatedly, you bump Sydney with your hip at the counter and shake your head. "Sometimes I truly dislike how well you know me. I'm just saying that out loud for the record."

“You know you love me.” She snorted and blows a raspberry at you playfully.

"I do love you." But it garners another groan from you all the same. "This was so much easier when we were kids and our life plan was to live in a castle until we were old enough for a nursing home, and then to be the super weird old ladies on the front porch of the home cursing at people as they walked by."

“We are still on for that.” She jokes, motioning to the apartment. “We are in our castle right now.”

"Technically we can go to an American castle any time we want," you point out. "It comes with the price of visiting my family, but the White House does count as a castle."

“Yes it does.” She agrees, proud to know the first family so well. “But I like our castle better.”

"I love this place." From the first day you set foot inside the inn, you have absolutely adored both working here and even running the place. Living in the caretaker's apartment has been comforting. Like a warm hug on a cold day. "And I love that we get to share it."

“There is no one I would rather do this with.” She tells you honestly, so excited to be able to live out the vague dreams of college now as adults.

"You're gonna make me teary again," you complain, fully teasing her but definitely feeling a little emotional about the whole situation.

“I thought it was my job to be the emotional mess.” Sydney sniffles and moves to wrap her arms around you and squeeze tight.

“Sympathy mood swings.” That makes both of you laugh, there at the counter. “Is that a thing?”

“Why not?” She asks, laughing herself at her husband and best friend having sympathy symptoms of her pregnancy.

“It is now, I guess.” You keep working through the soup prep side by side, getting everything ready in unison. “The thing is…” you hum after you’ve both stopped laughing. “I do care about Sam. And I want him to be happy. I just…don’t think I’m going to be the one to give him the future he wants. Which sucks to realize.”

“It’s better that you realize it now.” She rationalizes. “Less heartache and it’s not like you’re married with kids.”

“And we haven’t started moving in.” That’s an unexpected relief, and the realization that it was moving in together that kicked at your doubt is something you’ll have to grapple with later. “I probably only have a couple of things at his place and the only thing I’ve got of his here is a book I borrowed.”

“And….” She sighs. “Let’s face it, Sam wasn’t happy with you spending all your time at the inn.” She voices. “He rarely wanted to come here, even though he’s the one that can more easily travel.”

“Have you been holding back on me, Badillo?” You raise an eyebrow at her as she works on the chicken. “Hiding the things about Sam that have been bothering you?”

“No.” You don’t seem very surprised. “Just observations that I have made, but I wasn’t sure how you would take them.” She explains. “You were very proud of your relationship with Sam and I didn’t want to influence you unduly.”

"I was." And you can acknowledge that firmly, knowing that the relationship you forged with Sam was based on respect and mutual affection. It does feel like failure to see it ending, but at least you tried. Failure is just a means for new growth, as your mother has always told you.

“I know you look at this as a failure.” She’s known you way too long to think otherwise. “But this was a year long relationship that at the end of the day- you weren’t on the same page.”

“I think it would feel very different if I wasn’t sure it was going to end up talked about in every gossip column from sea to shining sea.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, knowing — and hating — how true it is. Junie isn’t dating and Alex isn’t dating publicly, so all eyes are on you. Especially if you break up with a Congressman.

“Don’t let it bother you.” She urges you. “It’s not like they can say anything bad.”

“Tell that to Princess Diana.” You huff, shaking your head and rolling your shoulders to try to straighten out your head a little. “Okay. New topic. Baby name? I’m dying to know what you guys picked.”

She smiles, rubbing her stomach in that universally happy way all expectant mothers do. “Constance Maria Badillo.” She lights up as she tells you the name they had finally decided on last night.

“Oh, honey.” There’s a measure of delight in your giggle when you light up, finding out those two essential pieces of information all at once. Sydney and Juan had been keeping both under wraps. “It’s a girl? Really?”

“We just found out.” She admits, grinning like a maniac. “Of course, baby Badillo could have just been shy but they are pretty positive she’s a girl.”

"You must be thrilled." Of course Sydney would be happy no matter what the gender as long as the baby is healthy, but you know she's always dreamed about having her little girl.

“Over the moon.” Agreeing happily, she turns back to the chicken. “And Juan and I have talked about it.” It’s a casual beginning. “We want you to be her Godmother, as well as Auntie Birdie.”

"Syd." Your knife gets put down immediately and you turn to her with a look of complete awe on your face. "Are you sure? You don't want to ask your sister? I mean I am honored and one thousand percent here for it."

“No.” She shakes her head and her own tools are set down so she can address this properly. “There is no one that we want more than you.” She explains. “You will always be my choice for godparent.”

"I know I've said it before in our lives, but I am here for anything you need." It's not just for Syd, and you lean down and hum a happy hello to your goddaughter that's growing like crazy. "That goes for you too, kiddo. Hear me? Auntie Birdie's got your back. And your front. And all the other bits of you forever."

“You are going to be her favorite.” Sydney sniffles, her hormones making her cry happy tears. “The one she confides in when she can’t bear to tell me or Juan and I love you for that.”

“I hope so.” Wrapping your best friend up in a hug is exactly what this moment needs, and the sound of two women sniffling takes over your kitchen for just long enough to make both of you break out into giggles. “She’s going to get the best of me and I’m going to tell her about all the stupid bullshit we got into as teenagers.”

“Oh god, you better not.” Sydney groans, rolling her eyes. “Nothing she can throw back in my face when she’s angsty and argumentative.”

“Nothing that will put you in Mom Jail,” you tease with a wink. “Promise.”

“Thank goodness.” She snorts. “This one is already gonna have her daddy wrapped around her finger, so I’m gonna have to be the bad cop.”

“It will go back and forth. One day she’ll do something that makes Juan crazy and you’ll be the arms that she runs to.” It happened in your own house more than once, there’s no reason it won’t happen in hers, too. “It will all turn out. She’s going to have the best parents in the world.”

“I hope so.” She shrugs slightly, aware that they will make mistakes, but hopefully it won’t be too bad to make their daughter hate them.

“You have love,” you remind her with a gentle smile. “Have a little faith, too. If nothing else, we all believe in you. All your friends and your family know you’re going to be great.”

“We will have our little village for Constance.” She agrees. “So when we mess up, we can learn.”

“For Baby Badillo number two,” you tease, beaming at her.

“Juan is already asking how many more I want.” Sydney snort, huffing slightly even if she’s grinning. “Told him that he needed to let me birth this one first before we decided that.”

“One at a time is probably best. For your body and your sanity.” Although, you do raise an eyebrow at her. “Twins don’t run in your family, right?”

“Not that I know of, but Juan thinks some cousins might have twins.” She winces and shakes her head with a laugh. “I’ll kill him.”

"Fingers crossed that you only have to grow one baby at a time." With everything prepped, you move to the sink to wash your knives and fetch your best stock pot from the cabinets. "But I will spoil the hell out of all of them, no matter what."

“I know you will.” She knows what despite your already busy schedule, you will always make time for those that matter most to you. Which is why it’s so telling her that you and Sam have been spending less and less time together over the last few months.

“So…” Flashing Sydney a grin as she starts to cook, you move back to the refrigerator to put things away and to get fresh drinks for both of you. “Two questions, then. First: Have you picked a godfather? And two, if I’m her go mother does that mean I get to throw your baby shower?”

"I'm letting Juan pick out the godfather." She admits, shrugging slightly. "I don't- he's got some ideas, but he hasn't made a final decision yet."

“Most of his friends are fathers already, aren’t they?” The Guy friends that Juan had made in the DC area since moving east after meeting Sydney are all responsible men around his age and most of them have families of their own. It’s a small group, it they’re tight knit.

"Yeah....except that, now, Juan has started thinking that he wants someone that is...." She rolls her eyes, "trained." She huffs and moves over to wash her hands again. "You know how involved he was with beefing up security here, he wants a protector for our little girl in case something happens to us."

“Well…that’s not unreasonable, right?” Spying a can of croissant dough — a cheat you’re very fond of — in your fridge, you grab it and decide to fill them with Nutella and berries for a little dessert pastry. “I mean he’s got friends who are trained. Be able to pick someone.”

"I know." She sighs and turns back to you. "I just hate that he's so practical about it." She admits, biting her lip again. "I don't want to think about us not being here to protect her."

“Then try to think of it like he’s choosing someone who can help her learn to protect herself,” you offer instead. As she grows up and faces new things — whatever those things are — her godfather will have been there to teach her self-confidence and safety in equal measure.”

There's a moment where Sydney thinks about what you said and how it applies to the situation before she huffs out a slightly annoyed, mostly amused laugh. "How do you do that?" She grumbles. "I was ready to be in a tearful pout about that you have to go make it perfectly acceptable." There's no heat to her words and she flashes you a grateful smile. "Thanks."

“We’ve been friends for twenty-five years, Sydney Rose.” The grin you flash back at her in unapologetic. “If I don’t know how to talk you out of a panic by now, I’m more clueless than I thought.”

Pursing her lips at you, she doesn't try to deny it. Instead, she turns to rummage in your spice cabinet. "Do you have that turmeric I left up here last time?"

“It’s behind the huge mason jar of chili seasoning.” You tell her without looking up from your dough-chocolate-and-berry project. “Indian spices are in the back because I fucked up the last time I tried to make curry from scratch and they were taunting me.”

“Poor thing.” Sydney sympathizes and shrugs. “We just need to realize they put something extra in their recipes they won’t tell us.” She hums, talking about your favorite curry from your favorite restaurant that you had cancelled on Marcus going to.

"Some kind of magic that I can't wrap my brain around." There were strawberries in your fridge that you're now set on cleaning and trimming. A crescent roll filled with a dollop of Nutella and a whole strawberry is a thing of beauty. "I should just eat their take out every week for the rest of my life instead of trying to make it."

She smirks at you but doesn’t remind you that you would have had some the other day. It would be too cruel. “How about we order some Sunday?” She suggests. “Decompress from the State dinner?”

“That sounds amazing.” The gratitude you have and have always had for her friendship truly is never ending. “You can tell me all about dinner with your folks and we can get chaotic with each other over curry and Scrabble?”

“Sounds like we are party-ing.”She teases, although she loves it. Low key nights are her favorite.

“And all the sparkling apple cider we can stand.” If she’s going to tease you, you’re going to tease her right back. “By the way, I asked Mom to make sure my birthday has a mocktail so you don’t miss out on the fun.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” She beams at being included and tilts her head. “So how was the family dinner, besides the avoidance of Sam talk?”

“Alex is bringing David to the State dinner. Under wraps, of course.” Syd has known your family so long that she knows every inch of your siblings’ lives as well, just like you know hers. “Junie is learning to negotiate to be able to go to parties, so I know I’ve done my job as her big sister right.

“Your brother should be able to take any fucking body he wants to the State dinner.” She rolls her eyes and huffs, offended on behalf of your younger brother. “If foreign dignitaries don’t like it, fuck ‘em.”

"He can. It's not like the Spanish royals have a 'no gays' policy or something, and gay marriage obviously isn't the issue. It's that he doesn't want to become the center of an unnecessary debate. He is who he is, and I'm so proud of him for making his choices." Glancing over at her, you shrug slightly. "That being said? I get not wanting to be thrown into the spotlight for who you love."

“Of course you do.” It’s kind of a double-edged sword in her opinion, the political spotlight. You could be a darling of the media one day and the scapegoat the next, just depending on how the mercurial whim of the people shifted.

"It's one thing that Sam didn't seem to mind, and I was grateful for that." In no way are you going to start bad mouthing the man just because you've reached the finish line of your relationship. That's not the kind of person you are.

“I know, but I also know that dating a presidential candidate’s daughter during an election isn’t exactly bad press for a politician.” She holds up a hand. “I’m not saying that’s why he dated you, I’m not speaking ill, I’m just stating facts.”

"If he actually wants to be President, he needs to get used to having the Secret Service being around real fast." You snort, shaking your head and knowing that it really has been one thing bothering him pretty constantly. "He hates feeling like his privacy is being invaded."

“It might be because he’s not in control of the detail.” She guesses. “You have the final say on the detail and where they are.”

"Either way, I don't think he'll miss having an agent in his living room." There are plenty of strawberries, so you offer one to Syd and pop a small one in your mouth to savor. "Maybe I just won’t date during my mom’s administration. Maybe that’s the solution.”

“You like having a partner though.” She argues. “And you shouldn’t give up dating because of who your mother is.”

"It might just be less complicated." It's not what you want but it would certainly save you some heartache. "What's the worst that happens? I'm single for the next eight years?"

“Already counting on that re-election?” She teases, bumping your hip playfully.

You huff, swallowing a half-laugh, and bump her back. "More like pondering my worst case scenario."

“Whatever happens, we will be with you.” She promises with a grin.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @storiesofthefandomlovers

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

[nico-di-genova]

Post Shanghai Strollonso

A/N: I am coping well, in case you couldn’t tell :)

“Fuck!” Lance yells once he’s back in the safety of his drivers room, letting out the expletive with a breath he’s been holding since he first climbed out of the car and was cast familiar looks by staff. Not the pity, or the mildly impressed arch of an eyebrow that had come last year, when he’d had to use all of his willpower to pull himself out of the car with his wrists on fire and tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. But instead it was the usual cool indifference, the barely hidden smirk, the look that told him he should probably just avoid social media for the next few days - prepare for the meeting with his team where statements, and image, and body language were the terms of the day.

“Fuck!”

His race suit is low on his hips, sleeves brushing the floor because he’s too lazy to bother tying them around his waist, but it still feels too hot. Still feels like he can’t breathe. Even with the AC in the room blasting, even with the damp towel he’s got wrapped around his neck. He knows it’s not the heat at all, but he still fights to strip off the fireproof undershirt that’s clinging to his skin anyway.

He pulls at the neck of it, rubs at his Adam’s apple, the soft spot under his jaw, until the buzzing in his ears subsides enough that he can peel the sweat soaked nomex off of him with desperate fingers.

“Fuck!” He yells again, because the shape of the word feels nice on his tongue and the sound of it in the quiet space makes the ache in his chest hurt a little less.

His skin is red, flushed with heat and his own frustration, his fingers leave white flashes of colorless indentions when he presses them to his chest and tries to still the quickening beat of his own heart. Post race adrenaline, he tells himself, even as he knows the truth of it.

‘That weird incident’ comes the journalists voice playing on repeat in his head, along with the whir of the AC and the rapid pace of his own heart.

His front wing going up the ass of Riccardo’s visa-cashapp-Red-Bull-toro-rosso-whatever-the-fuck. Him looking away for one fucking millisecond at the apex and then turning back to find himself sending Daniel into the air.

Idiot.

He’s not sure if he means himself or Daniel anymore, is certain he knows who the internet will be directing the term at. Despite the fact that he’d tried to brake, slammed on the pedal so fast that his body had jerked with force of it. Hadn’t mattered in the end because he’d made contact anyway and that would be enough to cement the barrage of comments he’s sure will be flooding the Aston Martin Instagram any second now. At least there’s dependability in that.

The pressure in his chest isn’t fading, it’s spreading and making a home in the pit of his stomach. He presses a hand to his abdomen, the other to his collarbone, tries to breathe slowly even if it catches in his throat. In through his nose, out through his mouth, choke on the taste of it and start over again.

Sometimes he thinks it would be easier just to let himself vomit, hyperventilate until he’s dry heaving over the toilet, his body seizing with the force of it. Press his forehead to the cool porcelain to maybe ease some of the heat roiling off his body, sit there until someone came to pull him to the debrief and he’s forced to pack it all back away.

But right now he’s not sure if he’d even make it to the bathroom, knows it’s not vomit that would come up anyway, just his own bitter disappointment. He’s not sick, he’s just a screwup. There’s no amount of surgery or PT or encouraging words that are going to fix that.

His breath catches in his throat again. Loud, weak.

“Fuck,” he cries, this time feels the sting of tears that accompanies it.

He presses harder on his collarbone, moves to the soft skin of his neck, digs his fingernails in until there’s the pinprick warning of pain and then collapses down onto the couch behind him with enough force that it forces air back into his lungs. He keeps a hand to his neck, trails his thumb along his carotid.

It helps, gives him something to focus on other than the rattling feeling of his teeth clacking together when he’d hit Daniel.

The knock on his door, when it comes, is almost expected. Quiet, unsure, followed by Fernando saying his name.

“I’m here,” Lance forces out around the lump in his throat, hates how pathetic he sounds.

“Coming in,” Fernando warns before he’s opening the door, sliding through the crack big enough for his lithe frame, and then closing it behind him just as fast. It’s not the first time someone from the team would see him slinking in. Fernando doesn’t care, he only cares that they don’t see Lance. Pathetic and miserable as he must look.

He’s not crying yet, which feels like a plus. But he knows from how Fernando looks at him he must not appear entirely put together either.

“You are okay?” And he means the crash, it is always the first thing he asks, because the one time he didn’t Lance was hiding bruised ribs that were already turning his skin a dark purple.

“Yeah,” Lance breathes, tries to, grimaces when the word comes out strangled by his own incompetence. “It was small.”

Fernando would have seen the footage by now, playing on repeat in the media pen similar to the loop in Lance’s head. He would be able to assess that his inability to breathe properly stemmed not from the pain, but from the noise in his own head.

Lance presses harder at the soft skin of his neck, tries to stop the rising tide of static that is building in his ears so he can focus on the way Fernando sighs his name. He likes how he says his name, likes that it doesn’t come with any sort of expectation, or disappointment.

“Come here,” Fernando commands, grabs Lance’s hand that had been rubbing absentmindedly at his stomach, tracing patterns over bare skin, and pulls until Lance is sitting up on the couch.

“It is okay,” he promises as he inserts himself between Lance’s knees, holds the back of Lance’s head as it slumps forward to rest against Fernando’s abdomen.

Lance swallows, tries, blinks back tears.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. At this point the word has become as familiar to him as the expletives he’s fond of shouting in his empty drivers room. It comes easy in the space between them, hidden in the comfort of Fernando’s embrace. Easier here, where he knows it cannot be used against him, than to the microphones that had been demanding it.

Fernando doesn’t acknowledge the apology, instead he just presses his palm to the nape of Lance’s neck until the warmth of his touch forces Lance to feel something other than his own crushing ineptitude. His fingers are rough, calloused, where they find the soft skin and baby hairs, Lance pushes himself further back against them.

He’s got his arms wrapped around his body, hands tucked under his biceps, one protectively covering the tattoo at his ribs, the raw spot aching with the ghost of a needle and teenage nativity. His stomach still hurts, his chest is still tight. Like he’s got the full effect of g-forces still pressing on him and he can’t quite get the air into his lungs. The tears haven’t fallen yet, but he can feel them beading on his lashes when he tries to blink them away.

“Just breathe,” Fernando demands, thumb finding the hollow spot behind his ear, where his jaw gave way to muscle and vein, and pressing.

Lance stutters in a breath, swallows again, nods his head so Fernando knows he’s listening. That he’s trying.

“It is over.”

Lance wishes that were true, wishes he could close his eyes without seeing Daniel’s rear wheels come off the track. Wishes he could take back his own impulsive radio message because it will be nothing but fuel to the fire. Wishes Daniel would text him back, or hit him, anything to snap him out of this muddled headspace he’s found himself in.

“It’s over, Lance. In the past.”

“I tried to stop,” he hates how small his voice sounds, whiney, strangled. Nothing like Fernando’s and nothing like the usual indifference he shoots for. It makes him feel small. His hands wrap more tightly around his sides, his knees pull closer to his chest as he curls tighter in on himself.

“No, tesoro, come on.”

Fernando follows him, kneels until he can take either side of Lance’s neck in his hands and hold him up enough that Lance has no choice but to meet his steady gaze. There’s grey in his eyebrows, in his beard, age in the lines of his face that make Lance feel even smaller.

“I fucked up,” he cries, and this time the tears do fall, trail down his cheeks until Fernando wipes them away with the pad of his thumb.

“This race, yes. So you go to the next one.”

“I’ll just fuck that up too.”

“Maybe not. Maybe you win.”

The laugh that Lance lets out is stifled only by his own sob.

Fernando’s lips quirk up, “No? You don’t think so?”

“Not unless half the grid gets appendicitis.”

“Or food poisoning,” Fernando says suggestively, light in his eyes, mischief in his smile.

Lance laughs again, feels the rumble of it when Fernando’s hands cradle his neck tighter. But then he thinks about how Daniel has left him on read and the laughter dies in his throat. He thinks of future awkward FaceTime calls with Scotty and a cold shoulder from his sister and something icy twists inside him. His stomach hurts all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again.

Fernando’s smile shifts to something smaller, “is okay,” he promises before leaning forward to rest his forehead against Lance’s.

Not for the first time, Lance finds himself yearning for Bahrain. Not this year, but last. The way that when he’d come sixth it may as well have been a podium with how the team reacted. How they smiled at him and it felt like the closest he’d come to tasting champagne in a while. How Fernando had praised him and it felt like winning the championship. He never could tell if it was the pain meds or his own euphoria that made everything seem brighter that night. By the time he woke up the next morning his wrists were so sore it felt like he’d snapped them all over again and so Bahrain had become nothing more than a sweet taste at the back of his throat that he would forever remember the aftertaste of but never the full flavor.

“Should break my wrists again, maybe then we’d get a podium” he says, before he can think to keep that inside his own head, knowing it’s the wrong thing to say when Fernando tenses.

“Sorry. Joke. My bad.”

“Not funny.”

Lance isn’t really sure he meant it to be funny at all. Instead, he’s thinking about how easy it would be to replicate the accident. Take Fernando’s stupid little scooter and trip it over a crack in the pavement, let himself fall and land at the same angle. He’s thinking about the singleminded focus that had come with trying to keep his car under his control with pain killers in his system and fire in his veins. How there had been an almost startling clarity to it.

“Could be your hero again,” he teases, even as a small part of him means it, misses Fernando’s praise even if it’s still something he gets freely.

Fernando scowls, “You still are.”

“I wasn’t looking when I hit him. I was looking at the stupid apex.”

“And? You are both okay, yes? So it is over.”

But it isn’t, because Lance has been here countless times before, keeps landing here. In Singapore when he’d split the car in two. In Jeddah when he’d clipped the wall then been asked to bring his lifeless car back to the pit. Narrowly avoided it all in Suzuka. Either the universe has it out for him or theres something wrong with him. Lance is beginning to lean toward the latter, beginning to believe some of the toxic shit he’s managed to catch glimpses of online before the functioning part of his brain has enough sense to close out of Twitter.

Fernando wipes away the fresh wave of tears, but it isn’t enough. Lance is hungry, desperate to rid himself of the ache in his gut and the pain in his chest and the hole in his heart that searches for that last bit of champagne in a bottle that’s run long dry. He’s tired too. Wants it all to end. Wants to sink into Fernando’s arms and be told that he’s doing a good job and for it to not be a lie.

Stupid fucking apex, stupid fucking breaks, stupid fucking safety car.

Fernando pulls him closer and Lance goes, lets himself be guided to the crook of Fernando’s neck and held there while he sobs. Both of them ending up curled up on the floor, Fernando’s fingers trailing a path up and down the notches of his spine.

Fernando twists enough to press a kiss to Lance’s temple and he sobs harder. The softness of it all, kindness from a man who owes him none, makes him sick all over again. He wants to be hit, but Fernando only holds him like he is worth holding and it’s cracking something inside Lance.

Something in him has maybe broken, more than his wrists.

“It will be okay.” Fernando keeps promising.

Lance wants so badly to believe him. He thinks Fernando would keep repeating it until he does. Both of them stubborn, both of them unyielding. Lance fears it will eventually land them both in the wall, fears he’ll be the one to send them there. He hates that he’s old enough to have fears now.

Everything is so much easier when you’re seventeen.

“What do I do?” He cries against Fernando’s neck, the warmth of him, the strong scent of him that Lance has smelled in sheets and pillows and the hoodies he sometimes stretches out to force his way into. Like a panther that’s confused itself with a kitten, or a pampered lapdog the size of a Great Dane. Fernando’s been buying larger sizes out of expectation that Lance will eventually ferret the clothing away from him.

“Right now you just breathe. We deal with the rest later.”

“Danny hasn’t texted me back,” he maybe won’t ever, floor damage and a dnf might have been the final thing to sever whatever feeble string kept them on speaking terms.

Fernando keeps trailing a hand up and down Lance’s back, pauses at the nape of his neck to soothe at the skin there, waits until Lance relaxes marginally before he resumes his slow track back down Lance’s spine. The pattern, repetitive in its nature, is helping.

“Just breathe, Lance. For now, this is all.”

He breathes, it hurts to do so, but he manages. He’s become good at that, managing. His expectations, his emotions, everything but his view of himself and the way that everything he manages comes crumbling down the second he messes up. So maybe he isn’t actually managing at all.

“Lance,” Fernando says, hard-edged when he hears Lance’s breathing stutter again.

“Sorry.”

“No more sorry. No more thinking, yes? Just you and me.”

Lance finds the fabric of Fernando’s undershirt, grabs fistfuls of it so the world can maybe become a little more real, his head a little less floaty. Fernando makes a pleased sound.

“I am here,” Fernando promises.

He feels just as real as Lance’s hands on the wheel had, just as solid as the barrier, as Daniel’s silent, steely, anger. Lance’s grip tightens, keeps tightening until Fernando becomes more real than anything else. Until he can feel the floor of the driver’s room pressing hard against his knees and has enough sense to complain about it.

Until he can breathe and Fernando’s hand at the nape of his neck becomes a grounding point.

Later, in the debrief, he wears Fernando’s hoodie. Aston Martin green and tight on his shoulders. He pulls at the hem of it, breathes in the scent of it, thinks about Miami. He’s told to stay off of socials. And his chest tightens, until Fernando’s hand finds his under the table. A thumb tracing the ridges of his knuckles.

“I’m not the TikTok guy anyway,” he jokes, tries to anyway.

Fernando smiles, “Too old for it?”

“Nah, not cool enough.”

And what he maybe means is never enough. Means that Fernando is good at pleasing a crowd, drawing an audience, doing all the things Lance just can’t seem to get right. But Fernando knows that, which is why he squeezes Lance’s hand tighter- why he doesn’t let go.

“I think you are.”

Lance supposes that’s enough.

#strollonso #strollonso fic #my fic #is this even anything? #idk I’m still just trying to get out my feelings #written in my notes app in like a 2 hour time span so ignore the typos

[babybatscreationsv2]

Off Camera

Marvel | Starker

Peter really wants Tony's attention while he's working. He does his best to ignore him, but Peter is just too tempting.

Rating: Explicit

For H<3

Warnings/tags below

Warnings/tags: daddy kink, semi-public sex, teasing, orgasm denial, cock warming, face fucking, rough sex

Tony ignored the sight of Peter's pouting face around the side of his monitor. The faces on his screen discussed their current project back and forth, updating him on the status, always asking for more time and more funding. Which Tony was happy enough to provide. Peter was happy about none of it. They'd slept in and there was no time for a morning quickie before Tony's meeting. Hence the pouting.

"Daddy..." he whined quietly. Tony flicked his eyes at him in a silent warning. Peter blew air from his pouting lips and flopped back in the chair.

Tony kept his eyes on the screen. It was all the usual stuff. His staff were skilled and well compensated and it was rare anything of concern came up in these meetings, but the shareholders liked it when he was hands-on.

"Ahh..." A little gasp came from across the desk. Tony looked at Peter to see his legs were spread over the arms of the chair. He'd rucked up his stolen t-shirt and tucked it under his arms so Tony had a clear view of his gorgeous body and the hand that was rubbing his cock through his underwear.

He ignored him still. Peter's frustrated glare almost made him laugh. He tried to focus on the meeting, but every now and then Peter made a soft sound that pulled him away. Tony muted his mic to be on the safe side. He wouldn't put it past the little brat to start moaning directly into the mic.

It was an impressive few minutes before Peter pulled his cock out and started stroking himself. He was louder now and Tony could tell by the sound which whining little moans were forced and which were very much real. His near exhibition was turning him on probably almost as much as being as absolute pain in the ass was.

He let him go, watching from the corner of his eye. Tony could feel his control slipping bit by bit. He just had to hold out until his meeting ended, let the boy think he was unaffected, and then he'd punish the brat like he deserved. But he sounded so sweet. And the way he spread his legs wide, showing off that pretty cock and that tight little hole. His eyes darted away from the screen to get a better look and finally he snapped.

Tony grabbed the webcam from above his monitor and yanked the cable out. It clattered against the floor or maybe the wall he didn't care to look. He moved around the desk so fast Peter hardly had time to react and when he reached him there was fear in his big doe eyes. One hand closed around his throat and the other grabbed his forearm, pulling his hand off of his cock.

"Who told you to touch yourself, huh? Because it sure as shit wasn't daddy." He didn't waste time waiting for an answer, but he enjoyed Peter's fearful little mewl of 'please daddy, I'm sorry' while he unhooked his belt with one hand and pulled out his cock. For a second, a pleased little smile crossed Peter's lips, but he wiped it away. Not fast enough to avoid daddy's wrath.

Tony dragged him out of the chair to sit down in his own and shoved him down to his knees. Peter's mouth opened without question as he pulled him in and stuffed his cock down his throat all at once. He slapped his cheek as he struggled to take it.

"There. Now shut up and let daddy work." He looked at Peter and his pleading eyes. His mouth looked so pretty stuffed full like that. He let him take a breath before he turned his attention back to his confused subordinates.

"Sorry about that. Something's wrong with my webcam," he said with a laugh.

"Should we take a break?" someone suggested.

"No, no. Who needs to see my handsome face anyway, right?" The group all laughed. "Please continue."

Tony muted his mic and stared down at Peter's wide wet eyes. "Does it hurt baby? Too big for your little throat?"

Peter nodded his head, cock stuffed back his mouth.

"Good. It's what you deserve you impatient fucking brat."

Peter whined and Tony let him up to catch his breath. "Yes, daddy," he gasped. "I'm sorry." He took Tony's cock back in his mouth without being told.

Tony pet his hair. "You can't help yourself can you? You're only a cock hole. Must be terrible for you to sit there all empty."

Peter whined in what Tony could only assume was agreement. He hadn't thought through exactly what he intended for the little slut, but his mouth suckling on his cock like that was driving him crazy. And well, the camera was already gone.

Tony pulled him up from the floor. He turned him and pushed him down over the desk. Peter spread his legs before he could even ask. He rubbed a fistful of lube along his cock while he checked in on the meeting. He wasn't needed at the moment, but he still had a job to do. Two jobs really. Keeping Peter satisfied was a career in its own right.

As he pushed inside him, Peter gripped the desk, moaning and pushing up on his toes. Tony sighed happily. "We should have just done this from the beginning. My meetings would be much more interesting."

He moved his hips as Peter tried to speak and grinned when he whined instead. "You got what you wanted, sweetheart. Now keep quiet." Tony pushed his head down onto the desk and covered his mouth with one hand so he could unmute his mic.

The meeting was just wrapping up and there were a few questions for him to go over, opinions to give, before he could call it done. It was no trouble at all to fuck the boy deep and slow while he talked. When a few lingered in the call for some post meeting pleasantries, he stayed and chatted with the group about plans for the afternoon. Peter made tiny noises under his hand, but he kept perfectly still.

The call ended and Tony turned his attention to the pleading face beneath him. "Getting uncomfortable, baby? Need some attention?"

"Please, daddy," Peter begged, fluttering innocent eyes.

"You were a very good boy being so quiet, but I want to hear you now." Tony grabbed the back of Peter's knee and lifted his leg up onto the deck. He fucked him like he meant it now, all teasing done. Peter panted beneath him, moaning and whining, little whimpers escaping when he went too deep. He looked up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, brain melted from being denied for too long.

It was impossible to last when he looked like that. All too quickly, he was cumming inside him.

Tony pulled Peter against him, keeping his cock inside his warm little hole as he sat back down. Peter twisted his head, searching for kisses that made him moan and his wet cock jump against his belly. A hand wrapped around it and Tony pulled it away.

"Daddy please! I need to cum," Peter said so innocently as if he didn't already know.

"What makes you think you get to cum after you acted like that?"

"Please daddy, please daddy-" Peter begged. His eyes squeezed shut in frustration.

"Shh," Tony trailed his fingers around Peter's open mouth. "You wanted to be played with so badly. I'll decide how I use you."

Peter whimpered.

"You just keep my cock warm until I'm ready for more. If you're quiet while I make some phone calls, I'll let you cum."

#marvel #starker #prompt fill

[kame-writes]

Concerning the media overlords au:

First of all: I love it! Thank you for sharing the idea with us <33

Second: Does Alastor live in the tower with the other Vees? And does Alastor still move into the hotel? If yes, on a scale of one to absolutely how sad/pissed/jealous is Vox after receiving this info?

3. I'd like to imagine Velvette's fingers are constantly itching to get ahold of that handsome deer man, who doesn't know how to dress himself properly or trendy, and give his wardrobe an upgrade. Could you imagine this happening? (Maybe with lots of alcohol involved. So that he would at least temporarily let her experiment with his clothes. Bonus points if she is able to take picture too. Vox would obviously make himself some copies for.. private reasons...) Do you see my vision?? Can you see it??

4. Can Vox convince Alastor to do more audio features within their network? Like podcasts or interviews and the like? Or are they just screams as well? (I recently discovered a podcast about cooking, where each week they talk about one ingredient and explain a recipe with it. I think this would fit Alastor's preferences very well.. tho the ingredients might not be as commonly used now that I think about it... anyhow... now I can't stop thinking about Hannibal and Alastor hosting a food podcast.. oops.. sorry, but not really)

5. You mentioned that Husk still works in his casino, if he isn't needed. Do you have any headcanons for Niffty's whereabouts?

Anyway that's all for now! Have a lovely day/night! <33

p.s. Sorry if this ask is intrusive. For some questions it's pretty clear that I've already imagined something for myself that may or may not fit with your vision of this au. If you feel like I overstepped, feel free to ignore this or send me an alastor_fuck_u. gif :D

Im am very happy to have questions asked! You have no idea how many ideas i have and dont know what to do with xD

I'd love to see other peoples headcanons and ideas for this universe, if anyone does anything for it then please tag me so i can see ^^

This is gonna get long so I've put it under a read more

2: No one is really sure if he lives there or just works there. He HAS his own suite in the tower, but he's not always there when they go look for him, and not being able to find him is very a common occurrence, made more frustrating because he refuses to carry or awnser the mobile phone they forced on him. He hangs around in the common areas like the kitchen and living room sometimes. And if they do manage to rope him into something like a movie night its a huge hassle, because he will insist on a black and white or silent film if he HAS to engage with the tv, and Vel and Val hate those.

The whole top of the Tower is dominated by his large Radio tower though, its slightly seperated from the rest of the building, suspended above it with a staircase/ladder to enter the hatch. Valentino is usually not brave enough to check there for Alastor.

Its the same with the hotel. He does move into his own room there, but goes back and forth a lot, and doesnt have a schedule. Vox tires to pretend hes fine with it at first but often ends up the hotel to be a pain in the ass to Charlie, and getting kicked out by the staff of Alastor. Hes convinced himself that Alastor will lose interest sooner rather than later, and the others just tune out his whining at this point. No one buys it when he claims he didnt even notice Alastor was gone as soon as the Radio Demon gets back to the tower.

3: I may be planning to draw this haha He does let her dress him up ocassionally, he has a few differant suits he's approved of and kept, but does wear his original the most the time. Velvette has a line of 'Vintage chic' clothing that partly started as a way to get Alastor to agree to changing his 'ratty ass old man style' by appealing to clothes that were updated takes on his era. He still very rarely leaves the tower in anything but his own usual attire.

He does on rare occasions allow photos to be taken of him by the vees (and once, later on by charlie, under strict instructions that she keeps it to herself) but no video. And none under any circumstances are allowed on social media. He has blown up a few phones that have attempted, both the Vees and employees.

4: Alastor has agreed to be on a podcast a few times, but its rare, and only if its somehting hes really interested in talking about. It's one of the few modern things he approves of since its just a version of a radio talk show. Same with interviews, he keeps them even more extremly rare, and the mystery of the radio Demon keeps sinners in fear more than him being in the public. Vox always wants him to do more since the ratings sky rocket when Alastor features.

When Alastor has done an interview it is with his back to the camera, and sitting in a large wingbacked stupidly over the top ornate chair, that hides him from being seen, except maybe the top tuffs of his ears and antlers. And he doesnt reveal much about himself when he does. The chair is partly to hide him, and partly to stop the equitment form glitching too much. He likes to pulls faces and makes gestures deliberatly made to make Vox falter and look stupid on camera, since hes the only one who can see him in that chair.

He has teased on his own radio show that one 'lucky' sinner may get the chance to be on both a guest star on his radio broadcast AND a livestream if the mood takes. Valentino had to inform him that what he's referring to is called a snuff film

5: Niffty gets moved to the hotel pretty much full time once Alastor gets involved, Husk is a part time employee, but ends up spending less time at his casino as time goes on.

Valentino is happy Niffty is gone because she creeps him out, she ocassionally hung around his studio during work hours, especially if theyre doing a scene with 'bad boys'. Vox isn't bothered. Velvette is not happy, especially that Niffty is reduced to a maid/janitor for the hotel, and makes that very known to Alastor. Velvette loves Niffty, they are chaos sisters and work on very sketchy sounding potions together, and gang up against the boys.

Niffty is also a great seamstress herself and brings her designs to Velvette like an excited child showing off their latest art project. Almost none of these get used, but Vel has fun forcing models to parade around the studio and work in something Nifftys made, they often include bugs and bodyparts, Velvette finds this halarious.

#asks #media overlords au #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel #hazbin valentino #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin niffty #headcanons #au headcanons #vox #velvette #valentino #Alastor #alastor radio demon #vees #the vs #the vees #v tower #radiosilence #radiostatic #qpr #queer platonic relationship #helluverse #hellaverse

[darkerthanblack-666]

Ok, so the summary of today's day (it's fun, you know I'm a writer, so I can make it fun):

Before the concert+the concert

I went out. It didn't rain. I got to the city centre and it was raining like hell, but of course I didn't have an umbrella... I had my leather jacket though. Leather jackets are useful, because you can take them off and cover your hair and they don't get wet. But when I got there, it stopped raining, yay! Lucky me 😆

I got there maybe an hour before the doors? I would get an usual spot at the barrier on the side, but a girl was keeping it for her friend, so I let them have it and went to the middle. It was scary at first, because I never know what my happen and it's hard for me to stand for too long (which everyone knows, because I talk about it here a lot), but as usual the BC fandom here is very chill and most people were super nice and friendly and polite to each other, it's one of the main reasons why I love their concerts so much 💖

Most of the time I didn't see much, but Joel and Joonas got many interactions, if I find videos of those, I'll let you know! I had Joel right in front of me almost all the time, I could see his red snoot and wet upper lip, and he hit his face with the chain all the damn time... this guy 😆. Honestly, I had more fun there, in the 3rd row, than at the barrier on the side. Maybe it's because I was close to Joel, dunno 🤣. But it was probably my best BC concert so far, because I finally managed to relax and my anxiety was on a very low level. It really makes a huge difference!

Oh, and of course I lost my hairband with a big red bow. All because of Ghostkid's vocalist! I was filming Dark Side and he got near the crowd, I had no idea he was going to jump into it, because I'm small, I barely can see what's going on with everyone around being so tall. So he knocked off my hairband and I managed to catch my classes on time 😭. But I did catch him somehow, I made sure he didn't fall. Also damn, this guy is so light! Even with my health issues I feel like I could carry him myself easily. Also I'm not super sad about the hairband, if someone found it they can keep it, it's just a funny story 😂. If I lost my glasses, THEN I'd be upset. Because glasses are expensive. Btw I literally have it on video, I have proof! It's the funniest part of it 🤣

We also got another "kurwa bob" moment and Niko got a flower crown in the colors of the Polish flag! I even managed to take a quick photo (as I said, my camera is shite):

(he took it off soon after, so I was lucky to catch this moment on my camera, also hi Joel you look awful here, but so do I in most of the photos and you're still my fave edgelord 💖)

Meeting the band after the concert

I wasn't sure if it was worth to wait for them. It was still a bit rainy and the last day bus was leaving in 30min (night buses arrive only every 30min, so it's a pain in the ass). Most people have left, there weren't many of us left, maybe ~20 people waited? But I thought I don't get to see them live that often, so what the hell, I'll wait.

There were staff members and guys from the supporting bands walking around freely (everyone is always polite and we let them work in peace, it's why I love the fans here, they don't chase anyone away 💖), even Olli just walked around unbothered (I think only I noticed him at that time tbh, but I ain't a snitch hehe).

Tommi and Aleksi just went to the bus and it's understandable. Tommi is just Tommi and Aleksi was sick. All of the other guys actually stayed with us to talk and I've never had such a long interaction with them before! I feel even luckier and I'm so happy that I stayed 😍

I think everyone knows Joel is sick, so we didn't want to bug him too much. He was nice enough to let us take some photos and let us give him hugs, and he was pretty much braindead 😂. But it's understandable, he's usually braindead and he's also sick, so it's worse. I'm happy I could give him a proper hug this time, because the first time I met him I was too scared for one. The 2nd time I asked for one and patted his shoulder nervously. But this time? I just hugged him with no fear! I'm making progress here 💖

Niko is always the most friendly one, so we had a chat with him and he asked what does kurwa mean (really dude? you have no google in your phone?) and I told him it's like vittu, other people added more information, and I said he should google it, he'll find funny things. Niko, please. Just google it, dude 😂.

I also hugged him and he has a really soft coat, which other girls pointed out and he joked he's wearing nothing underneath, because he's Finnish and isn't cold (a deja vu moment, because there was exactly the same situation in Poznań before: "Niko, aren't you cold?" "No, I'm Finnish"), so I also told him it used to be much colder here in general, because we did have very cold winters before. It's always fun talking to Niko 💖

The next one was Olli, but I'm leaving Olli for the last part of the story, because it's the best. Now, I did hug Joonas and got a photo with him, but my brain is totally blank if we actually did talk to him. I think not really? Uh, dunno 😂. But it was a positive interaction as well 💖

Now, Olli. Everyone knows I just couldn't like the guy because of his crazy stans, so I was "meh" about him, but actually meeting him properly just changed my mind. He's really easy to talk to! But I really didn't think I'd manage to come up with an interesting topic, I usually have nothing to say and I'm horrible at asking questions.

My brain decided to ask him about Silent Library. It basically went like:

Me: "So I watched this show, Silent Library Suomi, and you were getting all these red cards. Was it done like that on purpose, or was it just a coincidence?

Olli (grinning): "it's called back luck"

Now, if you watched their vlogs and he had those funny moments with puns everyone loved, IT WAS LIKE ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS. But I don't have it on the camera (which is ok, I did that just for myself).

He explained it really was accidental and no one was plotting against him (I did joke that Joel maybe did 😂). I think he enjoyed talking about it, because I doubt anyone would get an idea to ask him about this show (though I might be wrong).

So here you go, it's called bad luck. That's it. I got the info from the man himself 😂

But, there's more. The girl who was taking photos of us had a malfunctioning phone and accidentally took a photo of his feet and he was wearing flip flops (she did show it to him too lmao). I'll share it as soon as I get it. Also she came up with a joke that I already told her I'm going to steal:

OlliFans

(feet pic coming soon 👌)

We all laughed really loud at it (Olli wasn't there anymore, so we=us girls), so I'm releasing it into the world, because it can't be kept in containment 😂

That's it for now, more video content coming tomorrow (cause I'm tired)

#blind channel

[kpopficsssssss]

Something Different

Jaemin x Reader (ft. Jeno and Haechan)

Genre: angst, fluff - proofread ✅

Summary: A co-worker invites you go clubbing with some other co-workers and friends. Among those includes Jaemin, who you’ve been crushing on since you started working for SM Entertainment as a staff member. But eventually the night gets to you and you just want to go home - who comes to your rescue?

Word Count: 4k

Content Warnings: use of she/her pronouns, reader is y/n, alcohol use, being pretty intoxicated, being distrusting, anxiety bcuz clubs are overstimulating, finger nail picking, I can’t think of anything else

AN: this is sorta based off the premise that you moved to Korea for college and because of your skills (in whatever field) you applied and were hired by SM as staff. You’re usually assigned to work with NCT Dream.

Moving to South Korea, on my own, not too many people i want to keep contact with back home, I could that was getting a little lonely. Life before Korea was filled with pain and heartache. So when I had an opportunity for a fresh I took it eagerly. I very rarely have time to go out and interact with people besides those at work and college. Finals were finally over for this semester and to say my brain was overexhausted was an absolute understatement. The Saturday after finals week I got a text from a co-worker, Sujin, that I’m friendly with - one that I could see myself calling a good friend if only we had more time together - inviting me to come with her and some others to a club the next weekend. I am not a club person, the crowds and the darkness mixed with flashing lights made me light headed and worst of all - I’m a total light-weight. Regardless I accepted, hopefully this was my chance to actually make friends and have someone to talk to. Trust and relationships of any kind were extremely difficult for me due to past experiences, but I was trying to get out of my comfort zone so I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life alone.

I had a little money saved, not a lot, but enough to maybe buy a round or two of drinks for the table. After already accepting the invitation, I asked who all was coming.

Sujin: not 100% :/ I know Jia is going and I’m pretty sure some other staff member, Jaemin, Haechan, And Jeno are going and also bringing a friend

Well fuck. I had been into Jaemin since I started working at SM. He’s just so cute and so handsome at the same time and he’s always able to make me laugh no matter how I’m feeling. I could never tell him though, I’m positive he isn’t interested and I’m not about to embarrass myself with someone I have to interact with several times a week. There’s occasional flirting that makes my beat almost violently but he seems to be that way with everyone. I did my best not to let any of it get to me and keep my relationship and my stance towards him completely professional.

Y/N: oh okay sounds good😙 see you Monday<3

——————————————————————————

*time jump to the next weekend*

(AN: so I have this outfit pictured but, of course, you can do whatever you want :P)

I took a last (actually a few more) looks at my outfit and adding accessories. I was so nervous my hands had a slight shake to them but I persevered. I walked out of my room and into the front area were Sujin and the co-worker Sujin mentioned, Jia, were also making their finishing touches. We all agreed to meet up at my apartment to get ready together and pregame.

“Oh my god! I’m never seen you show so much skin, you look so pretty!” Sujin smiled, excitedly.

“You guys look gorgeous too. I’m so nervous, I feel like everyone is gonna see my whole ass at some point.” I chuckled, tugging the dress down my legs a bit more.

I sat on the couch next to Jia as Sujin sat on the rug underneath my coffee table, carefully gluing a few jewels to her face while staring into a table mirror.

“So how well does everyone know everyone that will be there?” I questioned as I folded my legs up next to me on the couch.

“A higher up staff member is coming, his name is Bumsoo - pretty sure he does something in production. I haven’t really talked to him a lot. Jeno’s friend… I think his name is Jiyun, Jihoon, or something. Haechan and his friend, don’t know his name. And Jaemin and a friend of his, Aera. So not a lot.” Jia stated whiled scrolling through her phone.

My heart sunk so far down I forgot how to breathe for a second. Aera? Is she his girlfriend? Someone he’s seeing? I’ve never heard talk about Jaemin dating or seeing anyone - and it’s kind of part of my job to know these things. Maybe it wasn’t important for me to know from higher-ups but still, there was no talk around the building for it either that I was aware of. Before I could think about what I was saying, I blurted out, sharply:

“Who’s Aera?”

The sound in my voice was very obviously on edge which signaled to Sujin, who was still somewhat paying attention, to pause her gluing. She glanced at me over the mirror with one eyebrow quirked. Before she could say anything Jia answered.

“A friend, I assume - maybe a little more than a friend, who knows. I haven’t heard anything about any of the three dating at the moment.”

Sujin squinted at me as my expression went from stressed to still stressed but slightly relieved. She definitely caught that but she kept it to herself thankfully. I was getting the impression that Jia has the beginning of being a huge gossip. Who knows who would get word of that information of my liking Jaemin. The higher-ups could assign me somewhere else if someone found out but then again maybe they don’t care. Either way, I relieved by her silence.

We chatted a bit more before Sujin politely interrupted and asked about pregaming.

“Oh yeah, almost forgot. I brought a couple different things.” Jia said as she got up and began walking over to her bags.

She brought the plastic bag to the coffee table pulled out two bottles of soju - green grape and apple flavored. I didn’t have the appropriate cups for soju so we all just grabbed regular glass cups and poured however much we saw fit. Once we finished and Sujin was done with her makeup, we called an Uber and left for the club.

——————————————————————————

Immediately stepping into the club, I was overwhelmed. It was a very nice club, very high class it seemed. I had only been to clubs back home and they were far from “nice.” The whole building had a blue tint to it with strobe lights illuminating the dance area. I grabbed onto Sujin’s arm as to not get lost in the crowd. She turned to look at me and giggled - I’m sure my facial expression had a hint of being horrified to it. We eventually made it to the tables on the opposite side of the club from the entrance and looked for our party. It took a minute trying to see through all the people and the loud music distracting almost every sense. Eventually I felt Sujin’s body jerk from side to side, I quickly checked to see what was happening and saw her waving her arm side to side. I guess she found our table. My stomach lit up with what felt like millions of butterflies fluttering around. I was nervous but also extremely excited. Jaemin had never seen me dressed up before, no one had. I felt confident enough to were the nervousness I felt before died down and was replaced with anticipation.

We all greeted each other before we all settled into the seating. Our arrival seemed to trigger a round of shots being brought out to our table, but we then found out that Jeno’s friend had already ordered a round of shots before we had arrived.

Jaemin looked so heavenly and unbelievably sexy. He had a white top and a dark wash jean jacket and black pants from what I could see. His smile so gorgeous and cute that I lost my train of thought for a few seconds. Next to him was Aera, who was not at all what I was picturing. She was a very handsome woman, with a short wolf cut, white button up, blue jeans, and had her keys on a carabiner that was hooked to her belt loop. She was extremely attractive, if I wasn’t so severely down bad for Jaemin I would’ve tried my best to chat her up. We all chatted for a bit, general conversation and ice breakers. I took note that Aera mentioned her partner a couple times, they sound like a very cute couple.

We had pregamed before leaving, nothing crazy, just enough to get a start on a buzz. However, I was so nervous the entire day that I had failed to eat anything in the last several hours. Having now only realized, I panicked a little. ‘I’ll just pace myself until food is ordered’ I thought. I silently prayed to whatever god or gods that the frequency of hard liquor being ordered would be minimal but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

After a couple hours, I was definitely drunk, and it was very obvious. Even in this state I was self aware enough to be embarrassed and tried as hard as I could to act more sober. I tried to avoid talking to Jaemin or even having him see me at all. At some point, I was drunk to enough to go dance with Sujin and Aera. Basically just dirty dancing and grinding with each other, I was having a blast. Eventually going back to the table for more drinks and then back to dancing. At that point, any gracefulness I had in my body was nowhere to be seen. I was stumbling and almost knocked to the ground by the bodies around me. I began to panic a bit and tried to escape the crowd, desperately searching for an exit.

I stumbled out into what looked like an alley, the street lights illuminated the area enough to see almost everything clearly. Both ends were closed off by a gate and completely empty. Was it smart to be in a dark alley alone and drink? Probably not, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to catch my breath. I slumped against the wall and closed me eyes, listening to the faint noises of the city’s night life. Suddenly, I heard a click and the music from inside the club become louder for a few seconds. I turned to attention towards the door and immediately recognized Jaemin’s figure. He made his way towards me as the door slammed shut. I froze and the butterflies came back with a wave of embarrassment. I really didn’t want him to see me so drunk. I straightened up and tried to readjust my clothes without him noticing.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked once he got to a reasonable distance for conversation.

“Oh yeah, I’m good. It’s just really loud in there” I smiled, being diligent with how my words came out.

Jaemin looked around and noticed what I had noticed earlier.

“It’s a little scary out here,” he chuckled, “I’ve wondered what it looked like back here.”

I giggled, definitely too much for what was said, as I stared down at my feet, lightly kicking a rock around, and sighed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, taking a step closer. “You seemed really stressed when you ran out here.”

The butterflies excitement in my stomach intensified. Was he watching me? Had he been watching me all night? I wanted so badly to kiss him and tell him everything I thought about him and how I wanted him to be mine. But I bit my tongue as hard as I could (figuratively) in order to keep cool.

“Um… I guess I’m kinda partied out…” I spoke quietly. I couldn’t help but feel ashamed, like I was ruining the night for others. Sujin, Jia, and I had planned on ubering back together and spending the night at a hotel room. I didn’t want to cancel the plans and have them have to pay for what I was supposed to for my part. My plan was just to wait until they were ready to leave.

“Yeah, me too. I was about to head out. You should too, get some rest, drink some water.”

“I mean.. I would… but I can’t. I don’t really have the money for an Uber after tonight, we were gonna spilt the bill…” Even though I had barely said anything to Jaemin, I felt as though I was going to collapse from lightheadedness and the blood drain from my face.

“I’ll drive you - if that’s okay with you.” The beginning of the sentence was very matter-of-fact. I questioningly looked up at him.

“Aren’t you drunk?”

“No,” he laughed, “it’s been a couple hours since I drank anything.”

“Mmm… I don’t think.. I mean like - I feel bad about you doing that for me.” I stuttered.

“Please, let me take you home. We can talk about how you feel about this later., but for now we need to get you to bed.” Jaemin smiled. It was so beautiful I had to look away to make sure I wouldn’t stare up stare at his lips.

I simply nodded and then I felt Jaemin’s hand on the small of my back to guide me towards the door.

——————————————————————————

Jaemin POV

Usually, going out to a place like this meant looking for someone so we could entertain each other for the night. I would be drinking and dancing and girls would just come up to me and that was that. I always had fun, but not tonight. Tonight, she came, and she looked more than beautiful - there are no words to describe how she looked. I had never seen her dressed this way, her silhouette was so sexy. It took me aback but I quickly regained myself. She greeted me and her smile made me feel as though rays of sunshine ran through my veins. She was so warm and bright, you couldn’t help but love her.

Then, after the first and second round of shots, she got up to dance. And I remembered that everyone else could see her this way too. She wasn’t mine, we barely talked, but I couldn’t help but feel angry at everyone who looked at her. But then again how could I blame them? Right then I decided I needed watch her, make sure her night goes well. It was almost an instinct, she was just so gentle and shy at times. People could take advantage of that.

I watched her dance, smiling and moving her hips and body in a way that suddenly made my pants extremely uncomfortable. ‘She barely talks to me, you’re not even friends, this isn’t your place’ I convinced myself as to not grab her and hide her away. A sudden jab in my arm broke my concentration.

“Did you hear anything I said?” Jeno spat. I jerked my head to face the rest of the people present at the table. Everyone smiling and giggling.

“He was not even on this plane, he was staring at his girl.” Haechan chuckled.

“She’s not my girl.” I mumbled.

“But she could be if you grew a pair.”

I sat back in the seat and thought about that. I had been flirting with her since she starting working at SM but she always shut me down. There’s no way she feels like same… regardless, I continued to look after her.

After coming back to the table for more drinks, y/n and the other girls went back to dancing. I couldn’t help but notice how unstable she seemed. I lost her in the crowd for a minute or two. Just as I stood to look around better, I caught a glimpse of her running to the back exit.

Quickly I started for the door and shouted something along the lines of “I’ll be back” to my friends.

Finally pushing past the last grouping of people I opened the door and stepped outside. I saw her before she saw me, her eyes closed and her skin shimmering from the sweat that had accumulated from dancing, no doubt. The street lights gave her a soft glow. As if her sunshine aura was spilling out into some tangible.

She head turned to me as she opened her eyes and a smile quickly took a hold of her lips. She slowly twirled to face me, her head not leaving the concrete wall behind it. Her cheeks were flushed, she looked so cute I just wanted to squeeze her as hard as I could and kiss all over her sweet face. I could barely focus on the conversation with how mesmerizing she looked right now. I know she was definitely drunk and that it was probably time to go home.

“I mean.. I would… but I can’t. I don’t really have the money for an Uber after tonight, we were gonna spilt the bill…” she pouted, lower lip slightly sticking out. Her state had been declining slowly through the conversation, she looked so tired.

“I’ll drive you,” spilled out of my mouth before I could think, “…if that’s okay with you.” After some convincing, I managed to get her to let me take her home.

——————————————————————————

Y/N POV

Jaemin led me to the table, Sujin and Aera had returned and Sujin immediately started scolding me.

“Where were you? I couldn’t find you anywhere and I called and - you just can’t do that!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear it …” I looked down and began picking at my fingernails. I felt so bad for going home so early.

“I’m going to take y/n home, I’ll check with you guys later. Let me know when everyone’s home.” Jaemin said as he gathered his things and mine. Jeno and Haechan seemed upset but with a glint of mischievousness at the same time. Maybe it was my current state playing tricks on me. Sujin and Jia asked me if I was okay and I assured them I was and apologized for leaving. Once Jaemin had gathered everything and paid his part of the tab, he stood and waited for me to finish.

“I’ll send you guys some money for my share, I’m sorry.” I yelled to them as I started to fast walk to Jaemin, I didn’t catch their reply.

Once we reached Jaemin’s car, he opened my door and held out his hand for me to grab as I threw myself into the passenger seat. As he closed to door, rested my head on the head rest and sighed deeply. It was so quiet in here, so still. It was really refreshing. Like I could think again - the alcohol was slowly wearing off but I was still fairly drunk. Jaemin got in the car as I was taking my heels off and neatly sat them together on the floor as to not dirty the floor too much.

Once he had my address typed into the GPS, there was no talking. I didn’t mind though. I was thankful that I could just relax.

After awhile, I words began spilling out of my mouth without much thought as to what I was saying to him.

“You know, what I did wasn’t the smartest idea.” I smiled to myself, my attention on the buildings and trees quickly passing outside the passenger window.

“What did you do?” He questioned - eyes glued to the road.

“I’m letting a strange man drive me to my home. Not only did I get in his car, I gave him my address.”

“I’m not a strange man! You know me, we work together - plus everyone saw you leave with me. The suspect pool would be cut really short.”

I laughed lightly, still smiling. I rolled my head to look at him. His eyes focused, the cuffs of his jacket rolled up to his fore arm, hands on the wheel. My mind was quickly consumed by the need to take one and trace the lines on his palm, maybe leave a few kisses. I managed to redirected my attention back the conversation after a minute or two of imagining holding his hands… and having his hands on me, my body.

“But I don’t know you, do I? You don’t know me either. Maybe I’m dangerous.” I said, still admiring him.

“Well, judging by the way I basically had to carry you to the car and buckle you up, I’d say my chances of successfully defending myself are pretty good.” He snickered.

It was silent again for a couple minutes before he spoke again.

“Do you not feel comfortable around me? Like you don’t trust me?” His tone was cautious, the volume was slightly above audible.

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with you, I’m very comfortable with you. And that scares me.” I sighed, my attention back to my fingernails.

“I think you’re a good person, you’re nice and you’re always making me laugh, I like you.” I paused for a second thinking of how to word myself. I was starting to sober up some more now.

“But in truth, I don’t know you. You could secretly be a bad person, how would I know? Bad people always disguise themselves that way, they can get to more people and deal more damage that way. You can’t really trust anyone.”

Memories of home, where i came from, started flooding back to me. I began spiraling a bit before Jaemin said:

“I’m sorry that you have to go through life on edge like that. But sometimes you have to open up a bit to see how many good people there are.”

The rest of the way to my apartment was done in silence.

Jaemin parked out front of the building and scanned the area with a frown.

“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really feel comfortable with you finding your way alone at this time of night.”

I’ll admit, the apartment building wasn’t the best or safest one out there. And it definitely looked like it at night.

“Can I walk you to your apartment?”

After a moment of contemplating I accepted and gave him directions to the parking garage. The trek to my apartment was filled with small talk and light-hearted laughter. A drastic change from the major downer bomb I dropped in the car. At this point I wasn’t really drunk anymore, just tired. So the conversations were much more coherent.

When we reached my door, we stood in front of each other awkwardly.

“Thank you… for driving me home… and walking me to my apartment… and everything else.” The last part came out as a laugh. We both giggled together for a second after assuring me it was his pleasure.

My phone dinged, probably some social app, but by instinct I went to check it and noticed the time.

“Oh my god it’s so late.”

“Yeah… I should probably get going then.” He brought one of his hand to back of his head as he threaded his fingers in his hair.

“You could stay the night if you want… I’d feel bad you driving more so late.” I shocked myself with my boldness. No hesitation, I’m giving him a chance. Jaemin grinned and stuttered for a second or two.

“Uh yeah I guess.. I guess I could do that, probably for the best.”

I offered him to take the bed since the couch is pretty small but he refused. I kept getting distracted as I was getting ready for sleep making sure Jaemin was comfortable. Which, in turn, stressed him out and kept saying he’s fine and he’ll manage. After giving him blankets and some of my oversized clothes to change into, we laughed and talked a little more until I was satisfied with his comfortableness.

Jaemin explained the importance of hydrating yourself before going to bed and insisted on standing in the kitchen to watch me drink at least two glasses of water. It was really hard not to choke while laughing at the ridiculousness of it. It felt as if we had been friends for a while, it was so easy to feel safe with him. I managed to down the last gulp, with a few droplets escaping onto my chin. Jaemin chuckled as he pushed himself off the counter he was leaning on. Suddenly he was right in front of me, inches away from my face. My mind went blank as his hand made its way to my face. He gently held my chin between thumb and pointer finger and swiped the droplets from my chin and lower lip.

“I wanted to say this earlier but didn’t have the confidence to,” he spoke so softly and gentle, almost whispering, “I like you too … and I would love more than anything to show you that I’m worthy of your trust.”

AN: thank u for reading, this is my first time writing like this. _(:3 」∠)_

#nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fanfic #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #jaemin #jaemin fanfic #jaemin scenarios #jaemin scenario #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #jaemin nct dream #nana nct

[lordarsonizzzzt]

Ask and you shall receive. Glass, Kondraki, Clef, Bright and Iceberg with an S/O who loves to cook and bake lots of stuff cuz that's their love language and they also like to pamper the doctors a lot

thank u very much

SCP STAFF WITH AN S/O THAT LOVES BAKING AND COOKING

CHARACTERS: SIMON GLASS, KONDRAKI, ALTO CLEF, JACK BRIGHT, JULIAN ICEBERG.

DR GLASS

✴︎ Simon comes tired from work a lot, his patients are all lost cases, Clef almost shot him 'by accident' and Bright bite him.

✴︎ Imagine how he feels when he comes home and sees you with an apron and the smell of a home-cooked meal hits him in the face.

✴︎ He will shower you in praises, hugs and kisses.

✴︎ I think his love language is physical affection and words of affirmation.

✴︎ You usually cook him his breakfast, he usually has lunch at work but sometimes you even pack him some food, then he comes back home and dinner is served!

✴︎ On weekends you bake him cakes, cupcakes or anything that is sweet, Glass has a huge sweeth tooth and you have to keep him from trying to eat the mix or frosting.

✴︎ He is really thankful by all you do for him and will take you on well planned dates or have day that are all about you.

✴︎ After all, you are his world.

DR KONDRAKI

✶ Man loves you so so much, like I always say, he needs that domesticity in his life.

✶ He would text you something like 'work s stressing me out today, are you free to talk a bit?'

✶ And you will be cooking him some goodies while you both are speaking thru the phone.

✶ When he comes back home and sees you cooked for him he is going to cry, will hug you and kiss all your face and lips and god I want a boyfriend.

✶ Really grateful, feels like he owns you.

✶ If you work at the foundation you will bring him lunch and you both will eat in his office, he won't stop complenting your cooking.

✶ You are the only reason he has a stable eating time, if you didn't cook for him he would live on take out and alcohol.

✶ His love language is acts of service and words of affirmation.

DR ALTO CLEF

✉︎ Do not cook when this man is around, he is going to mess with it, eat the mix, or eat the butter.

✉︎ Loves it when you bake, will buy all the things you need to make a cheescake and will look at you with puppy eyes.

✉︎ Make him lunch to take to work please he can't stand the fucking shit they sell over there it's the same food every day.

✉︎ He will always come home like 'WE ARE A PLACE THAT IS MORE POWERFUL THAN THE GOVERMENT, WE HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO MAKE ALL THIS FUCKING WEIRD ASS CELLS BUT THEY CAN'T AFFOARD SOMETHING THAT ISN'T SALAD OR SOUP? IM NOT ASKING FOR A BOUFFET JUST ADD SOME NOODLES IN THERE IDK"

✉︎ So yeah just so he shuts up make him something.

✉︎ WILL BRAG in work about his s/o that, and i quote, "HAS SOME BUDTASTES AND UNDERSTANDS MY PAIN BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK 05 COUNCIL SOUP IS THE BEST YOU CAN DO???"

✉︎ He is so mad about soup.

✉︎ Please please please teach him to bake (he just wants to spend time with you, will actually not learn anything and is going to mess everything up)

✉︎ His love language is gifts, he will bring you about anything that makes him think about you.

✉︎ "I found this weirdass chef plushie and I said 'my sweet crab babe is a chef to!' so i bought it."

✉︎ He calls you the weirdest nicknames known to man.

✉︎ I love writting about Clef I can make it so angsty or so fluffy.

DR BRIGHT

⚠︎ This man. He's tired, he is depressed, so when he comes home and finds out you made food for him? He just breaks, everytime.

⚠︎ He will be eating and out of nowhere will look at you, smile and start crying.

⚠︎ Has a sweet tooth too, if you bake him cupcakes he is going to melt on the spot.

⚠︎ Your food makes him feels good, like a wave of happiness just washed over him.

⚠︎ He once was looking something in his backpack and found you left him a box with a lot of cookies and he had to fight the tears.

⚠︎ Really, this guy does a lot and barely gets any recognition, his parents are shitty, his brothers are all trash expect TJ, who he wants to take out of this filthy place, so you coming in and just caring for him is so,,, so weird and makes him sad, because when you are gone, who will be there for him?

⚠︎ He'll have days when he doesn't want to see you, will lock himself in the bathroom and cry for hours. He wants you to hate him, to never want to see him again and just stop caring for him. (im not reflecting no)

⚠︎ Other days he'll just be so clingy, he's glad you are by his side and are willing to help him with his shitty life.

⚠︎ He will sneak you in the foundation so you can meet TJ, he's going to watch you two interact and will have a small smile in his face.

⚠︎ His love language is acts of service and physical affection.

⚠︎ He will do anything you need. Want him to go do grocery shopping? Done, want him to fix something that broke in the house? Done, want him to just carry you around because you are royalty? DONE.

⚠︎ Please be pacient with him, he fears death more than anything but not upon him, but upon his loved ones.

DR ICEBERG

❆ You were a one night stand at first, he still worked at the military when you two got together.

❆ He woke up and didn't find you next to him so he just assumed you went home, then the smell of bacon and coffee hit his nose and he found you there, in the kitchen making breakfast for both of you.

❆ Even before he started working at the foundation he was a little bit of an asshole, but never to you, he was warm with you.

❆ You would be making dinner and he would come up from behind and hug you, you would be too surprised because he was gone for months on some mission.

❆ Now he was cold, but never to you. He may not be too physical now but he still smiles and jokes, he has a really crude sense of humor now and he always looked ready to snap. But to you? he was still Julian, the guy that always wore combat boots even on summer.

❆ You will always bake him cookies, croissant, even a whole ass cake for him to take to work. 'You better share' you will say, he would remember that a little too late.

❆ His love language is physical affection, gifts and acts of service.

❆ Loves telling you everything that goes on on the foundation (the things he founds funny at least)

❆ You know that some guy got blown away because he threw a molotov at them and he survived, this other guy with the weird amullet got shot several times because he stole the cinnammon rolls from the 3 eyed blondie, you honestly think he does drugs sometimes.

#scp x reader #scp dr clef #scp dr clef x reader #dr clef x reader #scp dr bright #scp dr bright x reader #dr bright x reader #dr kondraki x reader #scp dr kondraki #scp dr kondraki x reader #scp dr glass #dr glass x reader #scp dr iceberg #dr iceberg x reader

[crescent-lockhart97]

Random First Class Trio + Zack Headcanons #3: Crack Version

Angeal:

His favorite workout song is "YMCA" by Village People.

He's definitely knocked out Wutai soldiers like this:

Somebody once mistook him as Zack's father due to similarities in their features. He didn't even try to correct them.

His sneeze is louder than the Krakatoa explosion.

Rickrolled everyone by singing "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley at a company gala while he was drunk. (Sephiroth and Genesis didn't speak to him for a month. 💀💀)

Makes terrible dad jokes that even Zack cannot stomach. (He's definitely done that "Hi, hungry! I'm dad!" shit with Zack. 😂😂)

Genesis:

He is a big Fergie fan and knows her songs by heart. He can also rap that part in "Fergalicious."

He did an iconic dance number to "Umbrella" with Andrea Rhodea at the Honeybee Inn like this:

He also likes Lady Gaga and blasts "Bad Romance" every time he and Sephiroth spar with each other.

He hates horror movies. He's the loudest out of the trio when watching them (he's either screaming at the characters or at the monsters/ghosts).

Aside from LOVELESS, he also quotes "Mean Girls" on the regular. (Guess who he quotes the most... 😉😉)

Totally has a blog for Shinra blinds just because (basically who's dating or fucking who, juicy stuff on important Shinra officials and staff, etc.). He once published a blind on Rufus defacing one of President Shinra's statues with a drawing of a dick. No matter how many times Shinra has gotten it shut down, Genesis somehow manages to keep on reviving it. Recently, Kunsel and some members of Red Leather have joined his team.

Sephiroth:

Can't stand spicy food. He avoids it as much as he can. Eating spicy foods will cause his eyes to water and his nose to redden like this:

(Genesis managed to snap an unfortunate photo of him dying from the spiciness of the curry and sent it to the Silver Elite fanclub with the caption, "IS THIS YOUR KING???" 🤭🤭)

Somehow, he has the most wins in UNO and Monopoly.

Catwoman is his favorite DC character; Black Cat is his favorite Marvel character. (Gee, I wonder why... 🤔🤔)

Whenever he goes outside, a horde of cats just mysteriously flock to him. Genesis and Angeal find it both amusing and creepy. (My aunt is actually like this. Wherever she goes, cats mysteriously gather around her, it's so freaky! 😭😭😭)

He can actually do the lazy eye trick, and loves to freak Genesis out with it.

He once dressed as Sadako/Samara Morgan from "The Ring" for the Halloween costume contest... and WON.

Zack:

Has sung "Jenny" by The Click Five using a shortened version of Genesis's name to annoy him. ("I'm standing still, Genny!" "Be quiet, you overgrown mutt!" "You got me on my knees, Genny!")

(This ends up with Genesis summoning Ifrit on Zack's ass 😂😂)

He and Kunsel quote Vines all the time, usually around any of the First Class Trio or Lazard just so they could revel in their confused faces.

Zack and Kunsel: *to Angeal* You are my daaaaad! You're my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!!!

Angeal:

Once, after getting drunk during the SOLDIER game night, he and the lower-class SOLDIERs thought it was a good idea to go sledding down the building stairs, so they brought mattresses from their dorms to use as makeshift sleds. Needless to say, the infirmary reached full capacity that night.

On April Fools' Day, he somehow managed to hijack Shinra's PA system and started playing "Careless Whisper" on full blast.

He's a massive Pokémon fanboy and knows the Pokémon Theme Song by heart. In fact, he has his contacts named after Pokémon: Angeal is Machamp, Sephiroth is Mewtwo, Genesis is Charizard, Tseng is Umbreon, Aerith is Jigglypuff, Cloud is Pikachu, etc.

Threw an apple at Hojo and left a shitload of Legos all over his lab for subjecting Sephiroth to a particularly painful physical test.

#angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #sephiroth crescent #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii remake #ff7 remake #ffvii remake #ffviir #ff7r #crisis core #crisis core reunion #shitposting #final fantasy shitposting #final fantasy #headcanons #ff7 headcanons #ffvii headcanons #final fantasy headcanons #zack fair #kunsel #lazard deusericus #aerith gainsborough #cloud strife #tseng

[unhonestlymirror]

Okay, so,

Kenjaku said that the way to capture Gojo Satoru was to make him stand in one place for 10 seconds. How was it possible to do for the strongest sorcerer? If you can't find a gap in his body, find a gap in his mental state. Kenjaku knew he had to make Gojo Satoru shocked enough, and most importantly, he knew HOW to do it.

This leads to a question: For how long had Kenjaku been thinking about capturing the body of Geto Suguru? When did this idea appear? Fandom likes to joke about Kenjaku just randomly finding his body on the streets - just to copy with the fact that it's almost impossible for Kenjaku NOT to watch Geto and Gojo after Toji incident. Or even earlier.

Most likely, Kenjaku paid Toji through the third parties to kill Star Plasma Vessel. Kenjaku either knew that Gojo&Geto would be her bodyguards or even appointed Gojo&Geto as bodyguards himself, again, through the third parties (higher-ups).

The main Toji's mission wasn't to kill Riko Amanai. His main mission was to kill Gojo Satoru, and he didn't even guess about it. A truly wonderful political scheme from Kenjaku, who himself mentioned it was always a pain in the ass to deal with Six Eyes Gojo.

But! Something didn't go according to plan. Everything really went wrong - but not because Riko Amanai died, unfortunately, her fate was already established, and it never was a big deal for Tengen to lose a Star Plasma Vessel. Everything went wrong because Gojo Satoru refused to die.

The personality of Toji Fushiguro himself played an important role in this. This is what Kenjaku could not foresee. Toji was a hitman who did his job so well that people probably said he was a maniac. What's funny is that Kenjaku fell for the rumours. If you shift your focus from how traumatic the Toji incident was for Gojo&Geto, you can see that Toji usually kills his victims quickly, painlessly, with a minimum of destruction, without humiliation and tortures, he doesn’t kill those who weren't in the list.

For Gojo, he made an exception because Gojo was the strongest from the very beginning, and he required a separate tool. Even with it, Toji didn't snap Gojo in a half, he didn't decapitate Gojo, although he MUST have heard the legends about Six Eyes possibilities, as a former Zenin. Nevertheless, all Toji did was stabbing Gojo Satoru into the skull from ossis parietalis and a throat??? Not from the back of ossis occipitalis where the most important parts of the brain are located, without which NO ONE can live??? There were real-life people who survived after being shot in the head from ossis parietalis. Toji MUST HAVE KNOWN anatomy, MUST HAVE KNOWN about Six Eyes possibilities, and he still chose to kill Gojo Satoru in such a lame way.

What's interesting is that Riko Amanai was shot in the same exact ossis parietalis. Riko Amanai, however, was an average girl, not Six Eyes sorcerer. You can say that Toji Fushiguro suddenly forgot everything he knew about the Gojo clan, suddenly forgot anatomy, or just always liked killing people in their parietal bone - but I think it's much simpler. No matter how much Toji gaslighted himself, he still took pity on Gojo Satoru. There was literally no need to talk about the Spear of Heaven, and only now I realised what it reminded me of. It reminded me of how doctors say, "A mosquito will bite you" to children from whom they take a blood sample. That was a very professional and very perverted way to say, "I'm sorry for what I have to do to you." Toji just couldn't have decapitated a teenager. And from that moment on, Toji doomed himself to death. The fact that readers perceive Toji as a maniac who loves to humiliate people (bro, he doesn't even humiliate service staff, or non-sorcerers, or women, like Naoya does) indicates that Gege is a genius.

The cold-blooded politician Kenjaku, who never gave warm emotions to anyone, couldn't have foreseen that. Kenjaku had to urgently change plans, and the most unpleasant thing was that he had to move the deadline to get rid of Six Eyes.

[A very interesting moment to me was when Toji kicked unconscious Geto in the face and told him to thank his parents. Geto fans perceive it as humiliation because that's how it looks from aside - but they forget that the *humiliation* requires either its victim to stay conscious, or someone else watching the victim being humiliated. There was no one. If Toji really wanted to humiliate Geto, he would have woke Geto up and then kicked him in the kidneys or genitals. I think what happened is somehow connected to the fact that Geto looks strikingly similar to Noritoshi Kamo (teen) and that Kamo and Zenin clans are connected. But it's just a theory. I think there is a very interesting hidden story.]

Kenjaku had to change his plans, and that's how the Geto-Kenjaku idea was born. Contacting Kenjaku or not, it is likely that Yuki Tsukumo participated in this conspiracy because it was beneficial to her. Most likely, she knew that Noritoshi Kamo could use techniques of its previous user's body - and she believed "the devil that you know is better than the devil that you don't" (c). Yuki Tsukumo, however, didn't know what Kenjaku wanted exactly Geto's body for - otherwise, that dialogue between her and Suguru Geto would have NEVER happened. Yuki Tsukumo wasn't dumb, and she cared about her country, and she would have never left Japan without its strongest sorcerer.

It's sad that Yuki Tsukumo is being perceived either in chosoyuki context or as just a sorcerer with cool techniques. Because Yuki Tsukumo was not less a cold-blooded politician than Kenjaku, except that she cared about Japan and her close people, nevertheless, she perceived Geto as a chess piece in a bigger game. She had Kenjaku's mind and, most importantly, she understood people's hearts way better than him, it's just that she didn't have hundreds of years of experience. Kenjaku was quite rightly afraid of her.

I suspect she was originally meant to be a traitor. However, since Gege noticed that people love her, he just let her die with honour and remain an underrated hero in people's minds.

In conclusion, Gege is a genius.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #kenjaku #yuki tsukumo #jjk thoughts

[kidney9-9]

Not Today Mister - Chapter 5

hope you enjoy thank you for reading! Masterlist

-

Aizawa was exhausted. His class had been acting up lately due to them moving into dorms and things were still being sorted out with him moving into the dorms too. His floor had a few other staff members, and thankfully the dorm was more of like an apartment.

He kept his apartment outside of UA too, knowing he’d need it to crash in case he needed to and was outside of school grounds.

There was one other new problem he had to take care of too.

And that was you – the cute school janitor. He only saw you a few times during the past week but each time, you freaked out, shouting “Excuse me!” to him. There wasn’t anything wrong with that of course, but it was kind of bugging him to know that the school janitor didn’t like being near him.

He had watched silently in the shadows of you interacting with other people at the school too. He wanted to make sure that you were just doing this to him and not to other people. And he was right about it, that you only acted that way around him. He thought in the past about anything he might have done wrong around you and the other janitorial staff that used to work here.

He could only think that you didn’t like him because of the mess that Class 1-A leaves behind in each room. He grit his teeth together, thinking about them. They were a pain in the ass, but he loved those kids. They would be great heroes if he trained them to be.

He knew he had to work on Class 1-A for you to stop acting that way around him. Therefore, his plans for the day involved something more intense than usual. He hated that he felt inadequate as a teacher because someone is disappointed with his kids. He had to do better.

-

Your day was going great! No Aizawa, no problem. You snickered to yourself, knowing his schedule was the best possible move you did in this game. Aya was a great help even if she didn’t know why you asked for the advice in the first place.

You considered reaching out to Nezu to hire some more day janitors to help you accomplish your goal, but then thought back against it, wondering if he’d decrease your pay considering you are being paid at least seven times the amount you used to be paid…

Yes, Nezu was a great boss.

Now however, you had to deal with other staff and students being around you since your usual schedule was screwed.

“Miss! Miss!” A student came up to you, running in the middle of the hallway. It was class time, so it was unusual.

You glanced over at her, nodding, “Yeah, what’s up?” Your casual tone made her sigh in relief slightly.

“Well… we were messing around in English class with our teacher. He didn’t notice it at first, but then he turned around…and now half the class is stuck in the air and the other is tangled in my friend’s ears.” The girl, Mina Ashido explained.

“Ears?” You clued out, eyebrows rising up to the ceiling.

“Ears.” She confirmed.

When you walked into the classroom, it was an incredible mess of noise full of screaming and laughter and groaning of pain.

“Uh, hello?” You mumbled to yourself mostly, wondering if you were just hallucinating if this was happening.

“Guys, I got someone!” Mina shouted over all the noise and instantly the class quieted down.

There, the mess was insane.

Present Mic, also known as Hizashi Yamada, was wrapped in some sort of… ears. As you narrowed your eyes at the mess, it was the student Kyoka Jiro, hero name, Earphone Jack, who was the source of the ears. Her earlobes or the earphones attached had grown to an admirable length and wrapped around Present Mic’s entire body, then around a few other classmates.

The rest of the classmates were floating in the air, all the way up into a corner, screaming for dear help.

“This is…crazy.” You said to Mina, who stared at the mess with a huff of laughter.

“I’m glad I found you and not Mr. Aizawa. He would have killed us in training.” She groaned, grinning at you.

“So, how are you going to fix this?” She asked, making you sputter out a few random words of nonsense.

“Fix? This? This is fixable?” You coughed, shaking your head.

“I clean things, I don’t fix things.” You continued but you shook your head, “But I can try.” You needed to try before they brought Aizawa along. You didn’t want to sit here looking like an idiot who didn’t know what to do.

Present Mic had been staring at you, pleadingly, unable to use his voice since the earphones wrapped around his mouth and throat tightly. The speakers connected to him were broken entirely, and twitches of electricity spouted from them.

“Ok, let’s get this class to the ground, who’s responsible for that?” You asked, raising your voice slightly.

A young girl raised her hand fearfully, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make them all go up, but that’s the only thing I could do to help since we’d be attached to the ears if we didn’t do this.” Ochaco Uraraka spoke up.

You grinned at her, trying to ease her fear. “It’s alright. I get it. But we should let everyone down now and we’ll lead them out of the class, so Earphone Jack won’t get them. Also, why is Earphone Jack doing this?” Your questions led you to face her, who had been hiding underneath her desk.

She glimpsed at you with slight annoyance.

“I got angry.” She explained briefly. You nodded, realizing that was all you were going to get out of her.

“Have you guys tried untangling it?” Before you finished your question, a bunch of shouts came, “YES”, “OBVIOUSLY”, “YEAH”.

“…How?” You ask, sheepishly. You placed your cart on the floor, the one filled with supplies for cleaning.

A few different replies came but the one that caught you by surprise the most was from Shoto Todoroki, who explained, “We tried attacking a few different ways. I tried to use my ice and heat to get her to retread but she won’t. We’ve tried a lot.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at them, a feeling of shock and anger flashing through you, “Guys!” You shouted.

You never thought they’d attack each other, but apparently, they would. “You are not allowed to attack other students like that. I thought the hero students would know that especially! How would you like it if all your classmates attacked you for some reason? I’m sorry Earphone Jack.” You apologize deeply to her, which you received a sigh from.

“Now, let’s try a kinder and gentler response. You guys are supposed to be heroes soon. What’s another way heroes can help save the day? By rescue, right? But how do you do that to people that are freaked out?” You try your best to explain, and everyone collectively stares at each other and then back to you with a small, “Ohhh…”

“Are you also a hero?” One timid voice pops up, you recognize it as Tsuyu Asui, when you shake your head, “No.” A few people grumble, “But you act like one.”

Slowly but surely, the gravity girl got the people that were floating out of the room. A few of them were shouting, especially that one kid that you ran into before. You were sure you heard an explosion from outside, but you ignored it for now.

“Earphone Jack… or Jiro if I may.” You spoke up, kneeling down by her.

“How can I help you?” You asked, glancing at her as she covered her ears as if she were in pain.

“I just need help detangling it, please don’t let them attack me again, my ears did that because they attacked.” She explained, huffing out a sigh of relief, that someone was finally helping her. You nodded back to her in understanding and went to start detangling. It felt weird to detangle these ears? Earphones? You weren’t sure what to call them, but you did it as fast and efficiently as you could.

By the time you got to Hizashi, he was sweating like crazy. Finally, you unwrapped it around his neck and his mouth, and he took a deep breath in through his mouth, then coughed to the side of you.

“Oh – thank – you – so very much.” He coughed out, voice flat and whispery, you could hear the pain in it.

“No problem.” You mumbled back, frowning as he clutched his throat.

“Never speaking Spanish to her again!” He muttered harshly, and it was so unexpected that you laughed loudly, bending down to your knees.

“Spanish? This is why this happened?” You got out through your laughter as he stared down at you with a kind smile on his lips.

“Yeah, and they were playing a prank on me apparently, so it all just went bad.” As if that explained everything. You just laughed again and stood up, shaking your head.

“Got it.” You respond.

“Now is someone going to tell me what’s going on in here? Why are you so loud that it woke me up?” Aizawa’s voice rang out in the air, and you tensed up.

Oh no.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa shota x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #thank you for reading!

[moodymelanist]

Compliments to the Chef

Happy Day 2 of @nessianweek! I hope you all enjoy this little meet cute I whipped up for our favorites hehe.

Read on AO3 here!

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Summary: Cassian is head chef and keeps sending free food to the woman who comes in after work, just to brighten her day a little.

Word Count: 1605

Warnings: None

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Cassian

Cassian could barely contain his grin when Mor walked into the kitchen and announced, “She’s back!” 

Cassian whipped his head up from the chopping board he’d been using to dice onions. “Really?”

“Would I lie to you, Cass?” Mor shot back with an unimpressed look on her face. “Look at the bar and see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Cassian did just that once he was done with his prep work, quickly washing his hands before moving to the kitchen window. Just as Mor had promised, there she was – the woman that Cassian had been sending free appetizers and desserts for her to try going on weeks now. He could recognize the golden-brown hue of her hair even from far away.

“What’s on the menu for today, Chef?” Azriel asked from behind him, a teasing lilt to his voice. The three of them had started together at The Sidra, an upscale restaurant in the nicer part of Velaris, and had quickly risen through the ranks to dominate their own little areas of the restaurant. Mor served as head bartender, Azriel was their sous chef, and Cassian was the head chef. They all worked under Helion, their mysterious executive chef who came and went as he pleased, but everyone on staff enjoyed Helion’s rather lax leadership style.

Because Cassian was so high up in the kitchen hierarchy, he had authority to send all kinds of free dishes to guests to keep them happy. He’d taken advantage of that perk liberally ever since this woman had started frequenting their restaurant; he knew nothing about her other than how beautiful she was and how frazzled she looked coming in for a drink and a small bite to eat after work. She usually had on some kind of fancy looking suit, so he’d pegged her for the white-collar type – maybe a company executive, a lawyer, something like that. 

He wasn’t deluding herself into thinking she wanted anything to do with him. He just sent her a plate of something nice, compliments of the chef, when he could tell she needed the extra boost. She seemed to respond better to desserts than anything, so he’d bribed his dessert team with all kinds of little favors to have them whip up special things that weren’t on the menu for her. 

Tonight, he’d sent over one of his favorite desserts, a tiny brownie sundae that came inside a chocolate ball. He could only hope she’d been just as fascinated by it as he’d been the first time he’d tried it, especially when the server poured hot chocolate over the chocolate ball to reveal even more dessert inside.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Cassian fretted as one of their servers whisked the dessert away to deliver to the woman.

“She better, considering how much of a pain in the ass they are to plate,” Azriel muttered from next to him. At Cassian’s scowl, he added, “Yes, Chef. She’ll love it, Chef.”

“Stop it,” Cassian told him with a roll of his eyes. Azriel was technically underneath him in the kitchen hierarchy, but they’d known each other far too long to ever really subscribe to that sort of thing. “You know I hate a yes man.”

“Whatever you say, Chef,” Azriel replied. He chuckled at the scowl on Cassian’s face. “Relax, Cass. Who doesn’t love free desserts?”

The hustle and bustle of the kitchen swept them up before they could continue their conversation, but as staff came in and out of the swinging doors, it wasn’t long before someone brought it up again.

“I think you should go talk to her,” Lucien, one of their best servers, commented as he entered the kitchen to pick up several plated entrees. “She’s not as scary as she looks, I promise.”

“Who said anything about me being scared?” Cassian fired back with a roll of his eyes.

“Nobody, but it’s been weeks of this and you still haven’t shown your face, so…” Lucien trailed off and gave Cassian a knowing smirk. “I’m just saying.”

“I’m sure that has nothing to do with the bet we have going,” Azriel muttered under his breath.

Lucien just smiled innocently before loading up his arms with plates. “Of course not, Velasquez. I would never attempt to mess with the betting pool for my own financial gain.”

“Get the hell out of my kitchen, Vanserra,” Cassian grumbled, taking a break from slicing carrots to making a shooing motion at the redhead. Lucien just laughed on his way out.

“I mean, he does have a point,” Cresseida, his rather excellent junior chef, commented blithely from  next to him. “Respectfully, Chef, if you don’t do something about her, I will.”

Cassian pondered Cresseida’s words and decided to get over himself just so he could prove his kitchen staff wrong. It had absolutely nothing to do with his sudden fear that if he waited too long, someone would snatch up this gorgeous woman – assuming she hadn’t already been snatched up.

Cassian wiped his hands on the nearest clean dish towel before he took off his chef’s hat and entered the dining area. He resolutely ignored the wolf whistles and cheers of his staff as he walked through the swinging doors, focused instead on his destination. He made small talk with various patrons on his way over so he could at least look busy; the restaurant was decently full with the after-work dinner crowd, but he was single-minded on his goal.

He spotted her right away as he approached the bar, Mor giving him an encouraging smile as he did. The woman was dressed in a navy suit today, her hair pulled into her typical braided coronet, and Cassian hoped he wasn’t about to make a big mistake.

“Hi,” he said quietly, slipping into the empty bar stool next to her. The woman turned to look at him, surprise written all over those pretty gray-blue eyes, and he knew right then and there he was completely fucked – more than he already was, anyway. “How’s the food?”

“Delicious as always,” she responded once she’d finished chewing. She tilted her head to study him for a few moments before recognition sparked in her gaze. “Have you been the one sending me all this free food?”

“Um…” Cassian trailed off. He hadn’t expected her to be so direct about it, but he’d roll with it if it meant continuing their conversation. “Yeah, I have. I’m the head chef, and you always seemed a little down whenever you came in here, so I thought you could use the pick me up.”

Cassian quickly replayed the last part of his sentence and rushed to add, “Not that I think that’s a bad thing or anything. Or that you needed it or you looked sad or whatever. I just… wanted to brighten your day when – if – I could. I can definitely stop if you don’t like it, I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything. I just… wanted to make you smile.”

The woman didn’t say anything as she watched him stumble through an increasingly awkward explanation, but once he was finished, a tiny smile quirked the edges of her lips upward. “That’s really kind of you…?”

“Cassian,” he introduced himself once he realized she was waiting for him to give her his name. 

“Cassian,” she repeated to herself. “That’s very kind of you, Cassian. And rather perceptive of you, too.”

“I’ll definitely take that over it being creepy or weird,” he joked, immensely satisfied when he earned a huff of a laugh from her. “Assuming that you don’t think those things, anyway.”

“I don’t,” she reassured him. Gods help him, but he wanted to bask in this feeling forever. “It’s been nice, feeling like someone cared enough to try and brighten my day. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome…?” he trailed off, hoping she’d give him her name.

“Nesta.” Nesta gave him a slightly bigger smile and Cassian had to fight the urge to melt into his stool. “I’m surprised you didn’t check the name on my receipts.”

“Then I’d really be a creep,” Cassian said, earning another huff of a laugh. He looked over his shoulder to check whether his staff needed him back and noticed Azriel waving wildly for his attention in the kitchen window. “I hate to run out on you, but it looks like I have to get back to work.”

“I’ve taken up enough of your time, really,” she said back with a wry tilt to her mouth. “Thank you again for all the delicious food, Cassian. It really meant – means – a lot.”

“Anytime, Nesta,” he told her sincerely. He slid off the bar stool as gracefully as he could manage with his bulk, deciding against putting his hand on her arm considering he was still on the clock. “I’ll see you around, I hope?”

“You will,” she replied with a little smile. “Oh, and Cassian?”

Cassian had taken a few steps away from the bar, but he turned back around with a little smile of his own. “Yeah?”

“I’m very partial to chocolate cake, if you have any,” she told him. “Do with that what you will.”

Cassian made sure to send her the biggest slice of chocolate cake he could get away with before she left, and was rewarded with Nesta leaving her number for him on the back of her receipt.

I’d like to personally deliver my compliments to the chef, she’d written in neat handwriting. Maybe over dinner sometime?

Cassian didn’t even let Azriel winning the kitchen’s bet stop him from smiling the rest of their shift.

———

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