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#i was just thinking about doctor who and looking at cookies
gallifreyanhotfive · 1 month
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Help I took too much ibuprofen, saw a picture of a Thin Mint cookie, and am now wondering if Gallifrey has an equivalent of Girl Scout where a bunch of Time Tots go around trying to sell cookies or whatever to grown up Time Lords who are equally excited for cookie season.
Just thinking about Borusa rolling up to Beta Shrigma and Costco's cookie stand and ordering 20 boxes of the Shortbread of Rassilon.
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Okay, so. I finally downloaded a VPN so I could watch Doctor Who on the BBC site, but even with my location set to London, it's still not working. I clicked on the little troubleshooting link (of course I'm in the UK BBC, don't you see my IP address?), and one of the suggestions was to turn off any VPNs. Is this just in case a British person forgot their IP address was set to somewhere else, and maybe the VPN I got isn't very good, or is it not possible to watch on the BBC site with a VPN at all? Is anybody out there having any luck with this, and if so, what VPN are you using? Or does anybody have any... other suggestions for somewhere else I could maybe watch Doctor Who online?
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think-im-kind-of-gay · 11 months
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I just...miss my job okay...
#do i think baking cookies would be fun? yes. but i just...don't care about it.#yes this is something i want to do because its fun#but i just dont think im ready to do anything until i can look at a comic book and not cry#like....it wasn't just a job to me#i cared so much. i may have lost the plot around the time my manager barked STAND UP at me.#but i cared everyday. i wanted to make people feel seen. i wanted to make the world better.#i miss working with canva everyday. that stupid fucking frienemy of a program. i miss creating. i miss learning. i miss restocks.#i miss previews. i miss the stupid fucking statues. i miss the stupid chat ding. i miss joe being joe. i miss mike. i miss jeff.#i miss jamie. i miss froggy. i miss tiny. i miss sarah. i miss Trevor. i miss seth. i miss josie.#it doesn't even matter if they didn't love me like i loved them. they were nice to me so i would go to war for them. i have a complex.#i miss them.#i miss the batgirls computer background.#i miss being excited about pride in December. i miss being excited about the doctor who mtg drop. i miss the paper stars.#i miss my staff picks sign. i miss when the shop was collectively ours. i miss the rainbow tape on the one ceiling tile.#i miss the comic of the week being ridiculous to get in and out of the slot. i miss the amount of product counts.#i miss learning about new rpgs and games and comics#i miss reading before we opened#i miss variant covers. i miss pre orders. i miss the sun blinding me mid day. i miss the ridiculous audacity of customers.#i miss “hey. im looking for a comic from this week if you have a sec?” i miss making displays. i miss paint restock.#i miss enthusing with customers over media and comics and books. i miss critical role. i miss dnd. i miss deck boxes. i miss card sleeves.#how dare you fire me and basically tell me i suck at my job. no. fuck you. i suck at YOUR JOB. i was damn good at the job i was hired for.#im so sorry i didnt want to stalk people and was busy finishing the pride display you effectively gave completely to the only gay.#and was finishing the restocks you gave me to finish#you dont get to take away all of my responsibilities and decide that i boil down to my weaknesses instead if playing to my strengths#you dont get to decide that i boil down to my WORST 3 weeks. when i would bleed for that job.#i was GOOD. AT MY JOB. I DID MY JOB.
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chrisevansonly · 2 months
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Some Extra Goodies
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charles leclerc x female reader
summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this time…someone is watching
warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles
a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas i’m gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!
Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.
Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.
Until today.
“Chérie, what kind of apples do you want this week?”
You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancé who narrowed his stare onto you.
“Oh um let’s just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last time”
Charles didn’t say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag you’d started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.
“Okay, we just need milk and then we are good to go”
Nodding you hooked your arm through Charles’s and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of banana’s that had just been laid down minutes earlier.
It wasn’t until after you’d gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.
“So are we forgetting anything?” he asked softly
“Nope, everything is checked off on the list!”
“Really?”
You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list
“Yeah, see I checked it all off…is there something we’re forgetting?”
“Well I just noticed something funny…”
Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles you’d slipped into the cart.
“It’s funny because I didn’t see these on the list…”
“What! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!”
Charles couldn’t hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how you’d get so animated and pretend as if you didn’t do something: you both knew you most definitely did.
“So I didn’t see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?”
“Charles! I think you’re seeing things, should we go see a doctor?”
Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.
“Alright…you caught me…i just wanted some sweets…”
“Well you didn’t have to sneak them mon amour..”
You shrugged
“It’s more fun that way! Plus you never notice!”
At the look on thé Monégasque’s face your mouth dropped open
“You’ve known?!”
“Every year since we started dating…”
Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time you’d thought he’d never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality he’d known everytime for the past 5 years.
“Let’s just say don’t become a spy…you’re not very good at hiding things”
“Hey!”
Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you weren’t a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, he’d never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.
Because half the time, he’d want the same sweets as you, he’d just never admit it….not now at least.
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imfinereallyy · 9 months
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Bedside Manner
for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"
"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"
Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."
Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "
Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."
Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."
Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"
"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.
"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"
"The infection has spread."
Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"
Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."
Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."
"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"
Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."
Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"
Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."
"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."
"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."
Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."
Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.
"Well, you both care about me deeply."
Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."
Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."
Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.
"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."
Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."
Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."
Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."
It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.
"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.
The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.
Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.
"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.
"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.
Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.
Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.
"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"
Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."
Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.
Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.
"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.
"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.
Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."
Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"
Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."
***
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badingsm · 8 months
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Warnings: really cliché, buncha fluffs, basically giving birth, cursing, and I don't know what else.
Hi bading! Some of you requested, so I delivered 🙌
Here's Mama DADDY Natasha welcoming her baby and her baby baby!
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"So, who's the father?" Yelena prodded for the nth time. Being your best friend, she stated that she should be the first to know whose baby it is that you're carrying.
It's been nine months filled with cravings, mood swings, and sleepless nights. Yesterday was supposedly your due date, but all you've got are the usual cramps and pains and still no baby.
As much as you love your soon-to-be child, you cannot wait for this whole pregnancy thingy to be over because of how much discomfort it causes you.
Especially to your back and limbs.
One time, you even cried when you couldn't reach to tie your shoe because of your developed bump, but good thing Natasha was there to help you solve your crisis, even though you snapped at her for seeing her face.
Simply her face.
The one that makes you frustrated when you see it but weirdly sad when you don't.
Yeah, you're really pregnant.
Going back to Yelena.
"No one. I made this myself, so stop being nosy." You scoffed at her, already imagining her face if you ever told her that her older sister—Natasha fucking Romanoff—was the one who got you pregnant in the first place.
"Oh, come on," She whined, flashing her famous frown in hopes that it could make you give in, but she's in no luck as you just raised your brows at her. "If I ever get someone pregnant, I swear, I won't tell you!"
"I'm pretty sure it'll be Bishop anyway." You shrugged nonchalantly, laughing at her gobsmacked expression. "What? Everyone sees it, Belova."
With a huff, she left you alone, probably to hide her blushing cheeks because it made her feel embarrassed.
-
You were currently in the kitchen with Wanda, watching her bake some cookies, when you felt another contraction coming your way. At the same time the pain arrived, you felt hot liquid gushing down your legs, causing you to look down to see the trickling wet patch in your jeans.
Panic settled in your chest. "Wands, Wands, Wands!"
"Yes, yes, yes?" She joked while mixing the batter in the bowl, still not realizing the state that you're in.
"I think.." You breathed deeply. "I think my water just broke!"
Just like the flash of light, Wanda looked up to see you sweating while you tried to regulate your breath. "Oh, god! Wait, wait, wait—I'll call Yelena!"
You nodded, not being able to form coherent words at that moment because you tried not to panic, but that didn't help because you just realized that Natasha was away on a mission and she probably wouldn't be back for another 3 days.
That thought alone made you whine with a frustrated, pained sigh.
That bastard.
-
You didn't know how it happened, but the next thing you noticed was that you were in the hospital bed with oxygen attached to your nose, and the doctors and nurses were assisting you.
"Oh.." You clenched your jaw, your face turning red due to the unstoppable force of pain flooding you, "Can you fucking get Romanoff here? If I have to suffer, so does she!"
"Why would you ask for my sister when you're-"
"Just call Natasha!" You yelled impatiently. "And fucking make it fast!"
Yelena was really confused and still hadn't processed everything since her mind was still in panic mode, but she did as she was told, dialing her sister and quickly instructing her to come to the hospital because you're oddly looking for her.
When Natasha heard the news that you were about to give birth, she didn't think twice about abandoning the mission and driving fast toward the hospital that Yelena had told her you were admitted to. Along the way, she had this smile on her face that she couldn't brush off, no matter how much she tried.
 "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!"
After what feels like years, Natasha finally entered the delivery room where you were lying down. She wore her scrubs, not minding the way her sister had looked at her with raised brows when she signaled her to come out. "Yel, wait outside. I'll handle it from here."
"Why would you want to-"
"For fuck's sake, just go!" You screamed madly, causing the blonde to narrow her eyes before leaving but not before muttering her line.
"сука!"™
You had been suffering for fourteen hours of labor, and the baby still didn't want to go out yet, so your patience was wearing thin. It turns out that the contractions that you were feeling are not the usual ones that you get. You were already laboring and dilating without being aware of it.
"You!" You pointed at Natasha. "Come here! Faster, goddamn it!"
"Okay, okay, chill." The redhead obliged without another thought, grabbing your hand for support, and she tried her best not to wince with how hard you squeezed it when you felt another wave of pain, but she couldn't, muttering a low curse, "Shit."
"Oh, you think that hurts?" You glared at her sarcastically. "This is your fault anyway, so don't-"
"Baby's crowning." Your doctor interrupted your seemingly endless banter cautiously, "Give me five hard pushes, okay?"
If you weren't in pain, you'd be touched knowing that your baby wouldn't go out of you without the presence of her Mama Nat, but no, you're in pain since you refused to take some epidurals. Nonetheless, you obliged.
You pushed, screamed, and teared up until you finally heard the wonderful sounds of cries from your newly born child.
"It's a healthy baby girl! Congratulations, Mrs. and Mrs. Romanoff!"
"Oh, we're not really-"
Natasha cuts off your exhausted rambling as she flashed a teary smile to the doctor who's holding your gays' baby.
"Thank you, Doctor Alison." She couldn't take her eyes off of the wailing child even if she tried, murmuring a small, "Beautiful."
You tugged at her hand, making her snap back into reality. "Congratulations, nemesis. Such a sharpshooter!"
She laughed lowly at the second one before smiling genuinely at you.
"Congratulations and thank you, Y/n," Natasha sincerely mumbled before she slowly leaned down to kiss your forehead. "I love you."
You were surprised with the sudden confession, but some part of you is already aware of those weird feelings that she gives you—love. Before, using the word love beside Natasha's name was like the most impossible thing that could've ever existed, but now, as you realize all those moments and bickerings that you grew fond of as time went by, it doesn't feel impossible anymore.
You love Natasha Romanoff.
In addition to that, it's a moment of vulnerability, and it was rare for Natasha to show that. It's her defense mechanism, so she always makes sure that she has these walls to protect her, but now you could see it in her eyes—feel it.
She trusts you with all her heart.
And since it's a serious moment for you both, it made you uneasy, not being used to the softness just yet. That's why you tried to make it more normal between you two.
You gave her a tired smirk and decided to tease her a bit. "I know you do, Romanoff. I know you do."
"Okay, don't Han Solo me now!" Natasha chuckled lowly. "I know you—you love me too. That's why we keep on beakering. It's like our love language."
Our love language.
"You're so full of yourself." You scoffed sarcastically, though you couldn't help but agree. Not that she needs to know that. "Maybe I'll love you if you promise to change Willow's diaper for the first six months."
"Willow?" Natasha questioned, rubbing the pad of her thumb with your still intertwined hands, ignoring your second remark, "Is that her name?"
"Mhm." You hummed lazily, your eyes now becoming heavier. "Natalia Willow Y/l/n-Romanoff."
-
You obviously woke up with a painful lower body; your throat felt dry as you tried to slowly get used to the blinding light.
You saw Natasha snoring adorably beside you, her head placed above your intertwined fingers. You giggled quietly at how clingy she's suddenly become after all those banters that you two have shared before. You gently woke her up, making her stir a few times before she finally opened her forest green eyes.
"Hi," Natasha mumbled with a soft smile. "How are you?"
"Thirsty," You muttered, your voice raspy, making her quickly get up to go over the table on the corner and fill the glass with water before giving it to you, guiding you as you finished it even though you insisted that you could drink on your own. "Hi."
"Hey, detka." She chuckled at your shy side. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah," You nodded honestly, "Where's the-"
"So where's my niece?"
"-baby?" You finished while eyeing Yelena, who had just barged in and was slightly restless but really excited.
Natasha mumbled, "They should be here-"
Knock knock!
"-now.." Natasha scoffed, "Yeah, we should really stop cutting ourselves off."
The nurse came in with the small crib, where a peacefully sleeping baby was placed. She was now wrapped in her pinkish blanket to keep her warm, and her tiny hands were hidden with her mittens.
"Oh, oh, oh!" Yelena clapped quietly, running towards the crib to catch a glimpse of her niece, but when she's already gazing at your child, her mouth falls open in shock. "Looks exactly like—what the fu-"
"Language." Captain America entered with a light knock; he was with the other Avengers behind him as they walked carefully inside the room.
"So, why does Y/n's baby have red hair?" Kate questioned, voicing one of the thoughts that was playing in Yelena's head. Thor then entered with a booming clap, having just arrived since he still fetched Jane along the way, causing your baby to be startled and open her eyes slightly, but enough to reveal the shade of her gems. "And green eyes?!"
"It's a fucking baby Romanoff, y'all!" Tony smirked to himself, "Knew you two were kinky shits!"
The others were still pretty stunned at the revelation. Some were staring deeply at the resemblance while either having their eyes wide or their mouth hanging open. Pretty much both. So, when they finally recovered-
"Natasha?!" All of them turned to the redhead who was drinking some water, nonchalantly, on the corner.
"Yeah, it's a long story, but let's just all welcome my daughter—Willow, yeah?"
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abbysdruidess · 10 months
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you ever see those tiktoks of ppl making to-go meals for their wives working at hospitals? i wanna do that for abby so badly 🥺 (i've seen some hcs of her being an orthopaedic surgeon and I think thats real af)
thank you for this anon<3 I was kind of in a writers block so this helped s a lot-send me more asks about my babygirl, my delightful wife.
l̳u̳n̳c̳h̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳c̳h̳a̳m̳p̳i̳o̳n̳s̳ | modern au smut
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wc: 1.3k (my longest!!)
tags: fluff, smut, domesticity, reader gets head for cooking for her wife(not that she wasn't getting it anyway), Abby eats it the whole damn thing on the kitchen counter
a/n: this is in the form of headcanons with a smut drabble in the end-lmk what you guys think<33
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❦ I feel like in a modern au Abs would definitely choose a field that requires a lot of hard work(cause in the game also she overworked herself), so she's either a doctor or a construction worker(;)). I feel like she wouldn't want to choose to be a neurosurgeon like her father, bc as much as she admires his work, she doesn't want to be compared to him and she grew up with it, she wants something different. So her going into orthopaedics seems pretty reasonable.
❦ As for the lunch thing, I could totally see you making her lil lunches<3 She is careful about what she eats cause she wants maintain her muscled appearance, so she doesn't really go for the cafeteria food. Therefore, you make a habit of cooking food for the wife™️ every day. I imagine you getting one of these cute bento boxes and cook her some chicken, rice and salad the night before and set it up all cute<3
❦She'd always love it when you cook her food from your culture/country of origin also🥺because baby loved everything about you and wants to feel closer to you any chance she gets. In my country there's a lot of emphasis on fresh, unprocessed food so I imagine you growing a little garden outside your kitchen with fruits and vegetables, the works.
❦ Don't forget about dessert also-cooking a big tray of something like brownies or a batch of cookies on Sunday nights and put in on her lunch box with a note that goes like "finish your vegetables before you devour dessert!" or "eat lunch first, dear<3" . Bonus points if you kiss the note and get lipstick all over it.
❦ Maybe a coworker of hers notices one day(probably Manny cause he's the only one able to confront her about it) and goes up to her with a shit eating grin while she's eating it like "Damn doc, maybe that wife of yours can cook me up a lunch or too like yours sometime. She forgot to draw a heart on your brownies though." And normally if it was someone else she'd be pretty pissed off, because HOW DARE THEY mock the lunch her amazing, breathtaking wife worked so hard to make. But it's Manny so she knows he's just fucking around. SO Abby's like "Oh shut up Manny. You're just wish you had a girl who wants to make you lunch every day."
❦And truthfully she's extremely grateful for it, it's one of those things that reminds her why she married you, you care for her so much and cooking for her shows you look after her in one of the most vital, intimate ways possible. In the end of the week, once she comes home from work and sees you cleaning dishes in the sink, she walks up to you, leaving her little lunch box on the counter and wraps her big, beefy arms around you, while she whispers in your ear.
"I didn't thank you for lunch this week. I loved the cookies a lot.", and you can feel her breath slightly tickling your ear, the pads of her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.
"It's alright Abs, I like making you food. You need to stay fit, big girl.", you respond, while you turn around and run your hands down her biceps.
"Hmm, thank you so much for caring about my health babe, or maybe you just like that your wife is packing such heavy guns under her shirt, huh?" she teases. You can't deny though, you love her figure. You can feel her hands on your hips as she tenderly lifts you on the counter, and you sigh happily.
"Yes Abby" you roll your eyes. "I'm soo thankful I have such a strong wife. It is quite beneficial at times.". Your hands ride up her shirt, cupping her firm, silken breasts. She exhales all wobbly, you know how sensitive her breasts are. But you know your little game won't last long.
She doesn't respond, just leans her face into yours so your noses bump and smiles. She quickly makes light work of your shirt, tossing it on the floor and goes for the button in your jeans next, as you help her by raising your hips off the counter. In one flawless motion, she has removed both your jeans and underwear, tossing them off with your shirt. Once the bare skin of your ass makes contact with the marble of the counter you shiver, and Abby brings her girthy palms to rest under your buttocks, warming up the skin there and slightly groping it.
"Lemme thank you for lunch. You are always so good to me. My pretty, little wife". She raises one of her hands and gently runs her pointer finger where your folds part, making you gasp. Your hands reach to her behind and cup her firm ass. "Alright." you whisper into her ear, as your eyes roll in the back of your head.
She then kisses a line from your jaw to your belly button, leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses where the drool from her mouth remains visible on your skin. You could only wish it would imprint on it, immortalising Abby's passionate mouth loving on your body. You shudder as you feel her delicately kissing your pussy, rubbing her tongue on your feminine lips as if she was making out with them. Her tongue teases the sensitive flesh, as the nerves in the most sensitive part of your body are abused by this wonderful, wonderful woman. You let out small, staccato moans, and your hands reach the flesh of your breasts, cupping them and toying with them deliciously. Abby continues the barrage on your cunt, licking up your clit as the room is filled with the sloppy sounds of sopping flesh.
You sit there, helpless but to take it, as you feel the coil inside you tightening up from the lovely tongue of your wife. You suddenly feels as though a band has snapped, and you are overcome with heavenly, internal bliss as your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Abby guides you through it, leaving soft kissing on your cunt and whispering "That's it baby, come like a good girl". Once it stops, you can feel her rising up to kiss you, her tongue rubbing yours in small circles as she lets you taste your salty tang.
"Mmm" you let out a soft giggle. "I'm so grateful I have such a caring attentive wife.", and she makes you gasp as she her fingers come up to your sensitive folds, dipping her hands into your hole and spreading your juices all over your inner thighs. You let out soft moans at the overstimulation but allow her to continue the assault on your cunt nonetheless, as she thumbs you clit gently, watching it twitch in between your legs.
"Damn right you are, baby. Wanna take this to the bedroom?" She leans into you and leaves a kiss on your ear lobe. "I'm not through with you yet." you don't reply just yet, because you know she still wants to have a go at you, and she will no matter what. You grumble a small yes at her as she picks you up bridal style and moves you to the bedroom, kicking your discarded clothes out of her way.
What could she say? Abby lives to please you, and you live to please her. And both of you are thankful for having each other to help whenever, whether that is with lunch and everything the other person needs.
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whoaah, who wrote that🤔anyways, lmk what you guys think of it and ofc send me more asks abt Abby<33
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juicywritinghoard · 2 years
Text
prompts to shake things up
I didn't know you wore glasses and I'm thinking normal and platonic thoughts about you right now I swear
I'm going to take over the world and no one can stop me not even y- okay well if you ask nicely I guess
you say childish like it's a bad thing but I see you eyeing that life size Pokémon plush don't kid yourself 
be honest are you crying about the commercial with the kitten in it
this marriage was supposed to be a scam but, but listen,
soooo *twirling hair and fluttering eyelashes* why does everyone think you're a freak
I know I'm your doctor and the horns growing in overnight was kind of a surprise but why do you want them removed those are sick as hell
babe. my love. song in my heart. are you purring 
okay so if you want me to rescue you from up there you have to try to come with me--okay I guess I'm picking you up
I have never been this sick before I'm sorry did I, haha this is so weird, but did I confess my love for you? f- four times? yeah? haha oh
every time you taste my cooking you just say it's amazing does it need more salt or not I swan to John
oh it's nothing it's just. you sing when you're happy and the place has been so quiet for so long, and I heard you- nevermind,
you frost cookies like you're neither left or right handed but a third other hand that you don't actually possess and I can't stand it (affectionate)
I don't think you understand how much your good morning texts legitimately keep me from rotting in bed all day 
you must be pretty down if me juggling your oranges doesn't even get a laugh out of you :( should I light them on fire? 
no I see the super powers yeah I just, I'm not sure you got them from your medication, yeah, and would you say that's a negative side effect or
you bought me a SWORD? OH MAN IM GONNA BE SO DANGEROUS 
ooh what's this potion do? coffee? that's a funny name. what happens if I press this button? humans are so fascinating this is the best I hope I never go home
you've been blinking SOS in Morse code at me for ten minutes honey this award ceremony is supposed to be honoring you 
when we kiss I feel like I'm floating, like literally gravity stopped working on me please don't let go?? also another kiss wouldn't hurt just saying 
so it was YOU who took a full bite out of that stick of butter!! please. please. why??
let's go on vacation somewhere cheesy and act like we're a couple wouldn't that be sooooo funny haha
okay so sleeping it off didn't work. let me consult my list. hypnotism, no. meditation, certainly not. well something has to work because I simply cannot be in love with them
I'm a spy. i can do unspeakable crimes under the morally bankrupt cover of night but I'm not sure I can pretend to look at real estate as a couple with you 
my love is your arm stuck in the claw machine. you were going to steal that prize for me?? oh my gosh. let me rescue you and also show you how to actually do this
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boldlyvoid · 4 months
Text
Neighbourhood Beauty
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Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Summary: Penelope is hosting Christmas at her apartment this year, she invites everyone... Including her new neighbour, who is exactly Spencer's type.
Warnings: flirting, love at first sight, kissing, making out, teasing, drunk bau friends, food mentions, Baker!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
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She was sad the whole journey home from work knowing that Christmas was tomorrow and she was going to be alone. As she gets into her apartment complex, she runs into her neighbour at the mailbox. She’s got 3 packages in her hands while trying to figure out how to carry the last two, “do you want help?” 
“Oh, please?” She sounds so relieved. “What a blessing it is to see you today.” 
She smiles for the first time in a few hours, “Oh, anytime Penelope. Are these all gifts?” She asks as she takes the two packages in her hands. She’ll come down for her own mail later. Nothing interesting should be in there. 
Penelope nods, leading them towards the elevators. “I’m having a big holiday gathering tomorrow— wait, do you have plans, are you going home to see family?” 
“No,” she admits, sadly. “I couldn’t get a plane ticket, I tried but they’re so insanely expensive lately.” 
“Yeah, I know,” Penny sighs. “I haven’t gone out to see my brothers in years, they’re in California.” 
“It sucks… but you have lots of friends here, right? I’m sure they’re coming over tomorrow?” She asks, mostly so she can feel some sort of comfort if she isn’t doing anything tomorrow either. 
“I’m having Christmas here for the first time,” she shares. “Dinner starts at 6:30 but we’re having a little bit of everything for lunch around 2, if you want to stop by at any time?” 
“Oh no, I couldn’t—
“You can, and you will!” Penelope insists. “You don’t need to worry about gifts or bringing any food, just show up. I hate the thought of you being alone next door.” 
“Okay, I’ll come,” she gives in with a smile. “But I’m bringing a baked good… have you ever been to my bakery?” 
“You own the bakery?” She’s so flabbergasted. “I thought you just worked there?” 
She smiles, “I do… we do okay but I’m by no means rich enough to buy a plane ticket home.” 
“Well, maybe that’s a good thing cause now I can eat whatever you bring tomorrow!” 
She spends the whole night baking. She makes molasses cookies with powdered sugar on them in shakes of little Christmas trees and she makes chocolate croissants. One of which she brings to Penelope around 10 am so that she can have a nice breakfast before the party starts. 
She showers, picks a cute outfit and by 3pm she’s anxiously waiting by the door trying to hype herself up to go over. She only knows Penelope. They’ve lived beside each other for 3 years now. She’s seen her friends coming and going and heard them talking in the halls but she’s never talked to them. But if they like Penelope, they’ve gotta like her too. 
So she bucks up and heads over. 
She knocks and within seconds, a handsome man is throwing the door open. “You don’t have to— oh, hi?” 
“Hi… Penelope invited me? I’m her neighbour… Y/N,” she awkwardly introduces herself. 
He’s at a loss for words— and breath, for a moment and then shakes himself out of it. “Spencer… Reid. Doctor… Doctor Spencer Reid.” 
It makes her laugh, easing the anxiety out of her system. “Can I come in, Doctor Spencer Reid?” 
“Yeah, yes, come in,” he steps out of the way and extends his arm into the room for her to follow. He closes the door after she’s inside and smiles. “How do you know Penelope?” 
“I live next door.” 
“Really?” He can’t believe it. “How long?” 
“3 years now…” 
“And you’ve never come over?” He looks offended. 
She smiles, “Why, sad you haven’t known me longer?” She manages to tease him. She’s not always good at reading people but something about how he’s acting makes her think he likes her. 
He blushes but nods, “Well, welcome. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 
“You too,” she looks him up and down. He’s very handsome. And a doctor… “how do you know Penelope?” 
“We’ve worked together since I was 22…” 
“And you’re now…?”
“42,” he presses his lips together, awkwardly. “Old…” 
“No, no you’re not, I would’ve guessed 35 at the most,” she teases, stepping into his space, she places her hand on his arm. “You’re a very handsome 42.” 
“Are you doing anything for New Years?” He asks, removing all his fear and looking at her with hopeful eyes. 
She shakes her head, “no… I might be working but I can leave early, or you can come see me there?” 
“Where do you work?” 
“I own the bakery on 16th Avenue,” she smiles. “Penelope buys in donuts and things from me all the time, actually, I brought over baked goods this morning, they’re in the kitchen somewhere.” 
“Did you make those croissants?” He lights right up. 
She nods, “maybe I can teach you how to make some?” 
“I’d really like th—
“Y/N!” Penelope comes running from the kitchen and wraps her arms around her, “When did you get here?” 
“Just now,” she laughs. “Spencer’s been keeping me company.” 
“Ahh,” she pulls away with a smile. “Well, come eat, there’s lots of snacks in here.” 
She leads them into the kitchen where her other friends are around the table. “The ones with kids will be around later, they’re still putting batteries and things in their kid's gifts. But this is Rossi and Emily and Tara.” 
She reaches out to shake everyone's hand, realizing only now that she never shook Spencer's, but he doesn’t mind, he stays close to her. They sit side by side, he passes her things from the table that she wants to put on her plate and he gets up to get her a drink and everyone makes conversation while also watching him dote on her. It’s been 20 minutes but there’s something there… no man has shown her this level of interest or flattery before and not to quote Lana Del Rey but, when you know you know. 
They’re friendly as ever when there are people around them and they flirt like mad when they’re alone. She already has a date with him, but he’s just too cute and that shade of red he turns is starting to become her favourite colour. 
“You seriously used all the ice?” Penelope chastises Emily, who pretends she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Go get some more, we have guests coming who don’t drink alcohol they need ice for their sodas!” 
“I am far too drunk to walk down the street,” she counters and points to Dave. 
“Not me,” Dave touches his nose, he doesn’t volunteer to do anything and Tara does the same thing, she’s just as drunk as Emily. 
Spencer goes to get his coat with a sigh, “I’ve got it.” 
“I’ll come too,” she rushes to the door with him, putting on whatever coat fits her so that she can follow him down to the street for some extra alone time with him. 
She reaches for his hand on the street, “So, what’s it like at the FBI?” 
He holds her hand gladly, “it's… okay. I just teach now. Fieldwork put me in the hospital too many times and I like being alive.” 
“I’m glad you’re still here,” she bumps shoulders with him.
His smile is beautiful. “So, about that date?” 
“We could do anything you want,” she assures. “But my offer still stands.” 
“I think I’d like a baking lesson,” he nudges her back. “It's the one thing I’m not good at.” 
“So what are you good at?” 
“Rambling, falling over, getting shot,” he teases but she swats his arm, leaning into him with a laugh. “Okay, but seriously, I have a Ph.D. in Chemistry, Engineering and Math.” 
“Well luckily for you, baking is just science and a bit of math,” she teases. “You’ll catch on quickly, smarty pants.” 
He pulls her in, chest to chest, standing beside an empty store with all their lights off. He cups her face, “what’s sweeter? Your chocolate croissants or your kiss?” 
She can’t help but laugh, “you’ll have to tell me…” 
He pulls her in for a kiss and sparks fly behind her eyes. As if every atom in her being is on fire, she melts into him. Kissing him deeply, she holds his sides and the hand he has on her cheek goes into her hair as they begin to make out on the snow-covered street. 
She pulls back first, smiling softly, “so?” 
“You, it’s definitely you,” he teases. “But the croissants are a very close second.” 
She laughs, “Well, keep up the compliments and there will be lots more kisses and sweet treats coming your way.” 
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the neighbourhood,” he teases, leaning in for another kiss but she stops him. 
“Just the neighbourhood?” 
“The whole world,” he corrects, which is the right answer. She lets him lean in closer, stealing another kiss. 
She kisses him again and again, trying to pull back but he kisses her a third time, making her laugh. “We need to get that ice, we’re going to be late for dinner.” 
“do you want to hang out after dinner?” He asks, “I can walk you home?” 
“And stay for more kisses?” 
“Or croissants,” he shrugs. Happy with either. 
They’re pretty normal for the rest of the party, she meets the rest of his friends and all their kids. And they’re some cute kids. The youngest is his friend Matt's 2-year-old, she sits at the grown-up table with them and eats one of the chocolate croissants with the biggest smile on her face. Y/N can’t help but think about how much her own kids might like her baking one day… and Spencer sees the way she looks at the baby too. 
His friends are so lively, the the party goes on until well after midnight. The friends with kids head out early, Emily and Tara get a cab home, Dave is passed out on her couch and Spencer isn’t going to leave until she does. And she’s helping Penelope clean up. 
“You don’t have to stay,” Penelope assures her, drying off dishes while Spencer washes them. She’s been putting things in Tupperware containers and organizing the fridge. 
“I want to help, as a thank you,” she smiles at her. “This has been a lovely night.” 
“And not just because I introduced you to your new boyfriend?” She teases and Spencer drops a plate. 
She laughs, walking over to place her hand on Spencers arm, “I mean, meeting Spencer is the best present you could’ve given me.” 
Penelope swoons, “Okay that’s it, love birds. Get out of my kitchen, go home, go canoodle and get to know each other. I knew this was going to happen.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me in advance?” Spencer whines as he dries off his hands. “I would’ve worn something nicer?” 
“You look cute,” she teases. 
“See, that’s why,” Penelope points at her. “I knew she’d like you for you, she’s a baker and you love everything I buy from her bakery and she’s so kind and you need someone to love you the way I know you love people back. This is perfect.” 
She wraps her arm around his waist and leans into his space, “thank you penny, we’re going to go now.” 
“Thank you,” Spencer agrees, following her out of the kitchen and towards the door. 
Once they’re in the hallway, he asks, “Did you really mean that?” 
She nods, “of course?” 
He lunges for her, kissing her with her back pressed up against her apartment door. She reaches for the doorknob, twisting it open so that she can bring them inside and push him up against the closed door instead this time. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.
He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, and he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips. 
“Couch?” She pants against his lips, wanting to lay down with him. 
“Show me?” He agrees, following her into her apartment and to the living space. 
She pushes him down against the couch and climbs on top of him. He wraps his arms around her, cradling her body like she’s the most delicate thing in the world. He kisses her just as soft and she moves her kiss to his cheek and his jaw up towards his ear, “you’re so handsome,” she whispers. 
“Thank you,” he gasps. “You’re absolutely stunning, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” 
She smirks against him, kissing down his neck, “You deserve good things, Spence.” 
“You’re too good to me,” he teases, hand slipping down to her ass. “How far are we taking this?” 
She hums, “I’m good just talking and kissing all night?” 
“All night?” 
She nods as she pulls back to look at him. “I kinda don’t want to let you go. I’m afraid you’re too good to be real.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures. “I’m yours as long as you want me.” 
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General Taglist 
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22
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wannaeatramyeon · 4 months
Text
Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse
G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 1 | Part 2
The customers can usually be separated into 3 categories.
Drunks, students, and weirdos.
Unfortunately for you, lately the weirdos have turned into regulars. But fortunately the weirdos aren't so weird.
The one that made it a habit to check in on you, with the scars and the cheesy wink wasn't so bad. Jack, was it? You can't remember and it's been too long for you to ask. You awkwardly address him as 'you' and avoid any situation where you need to use his name.
He likes to ask how you are, tell a few jokes. Spirit undeterred even when you look at him with a blank face because bless his soul, he's not funny at all but at least he tries and he's a lot less weird than first impression.
He hangs around at odd times, then again you do only work at odd times. Telling you stories about this and that. Something about Big Deal, something about a guy called Sinu and something about another guy called Samuel.
It's difficult to keep track. It's like he wants to talk but he's cryptic and god, it's 4am who can blame you if your eyes are glazing over.
John, or is it Jerry, is waffling again. He seems to always be talking about Samuel. Who he apparently misses and wonders where it's gone wrong and hang on, he's never been explicit but you just had to know.
When he takes a breath to munch on a cookie, you ask, "Hold on, is Samuel your ex?"
Wait no his name is Jason, definitely Jason- freezes mid-chew, "Why would you say that? He's my friend!"
Joshua sprays crumbs all over you but you note how he doesn't say no.
(You think you see this Samuel one early morning. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him before and man, he really looks like shit.
Looks like the breakup is getting to him too.
Poor Samuel and Poor Jim.)
.
.
But sometimes weirdos are just weirdos. 
It's ok. It comes with the territory so long as they're not in the habit of hurling abuse or whatever, you can deal with it.
In recent memory, there's only been two people that you have had to almost chase out with a broomstick.
You should have known they would be weirdos when one of them walks in in surprisingly teeny tiny purple camo shorts. Not that you're a pearl clutcher, but you're worried that one wrong move and he could be dangling out.
Besides. Purple. Camo. Shorts. Those words should never follow one after the other, and you repress a shudder at this guy's hideous dress sense when he comes up to you.
You thought the other one was alright, at least there's no hideous purple camo shorts in sight and his hair is nice (huh, this style must be popular, you’ve seen a lot of guys with this hair)-
But then he opens his mouth and asks for snakes and you think it's karma for judging camo-guy for his appearance when his friend is equally odd.
"We usually keep the snakes next to the ramen," you deadpan and the two men actually go to seek out the supposed snake (meat or pet purposes?) only to return moments later, empty-handed and looking confused.
"I think the snake is all sold out," Non-camo guy says as camo-guy glances around as if you might have hidden your snake stock elsewhere.
They must have thought you were stupid as you stood there opening and closing your mouth like a fish (or maybe a snake, do snake do these things), because come on, how are you even supposed to formulate a response to that?
Then you look at their eyes and also notice them looking snakey and surmise it must be some weird fetish thing. Pretending to be snakes and eating snakes and having pet snakes.
You want no part of this and tell them to get out.
.
.
"I'm Baek Hangyeol," a new face says, pointing to his ID badge pinned to the white coat. 
"Doctor Baek Hangyeol." He stresses Doctor and Hangyeol and you wonder if he is waiting for a round of applause.
You don't say anything but you do notice he looks like a teenager and what idiot would let a teenager operate on them. (Drunk, student, weirdo. He could be all three.) Doctor Baek Hangyeol must be bluffing.
You decide not to call him on his bullshit. 
"Cool," is all you respond with because you don't want another complaint for being too mouthy. You are half tempted to tell him you're not a doctor, that you just work here but that seemed kinda redundant so you keep your mouth shut.
"Do you believe in true beauty?" he asks when you finish bagging up his goods (a plain water with added minerals, a bottle of multivitamins and a protein shake) and you think what sort of question is that.
You give a halfhearted shrug and say "Sure" and he hands his business card over.
"If you're ever considering it," he tells you with a wild smile. After he has left you look down at the lettering, eyes zeroing in on ‘Plastic Surgery’.
Excuse me?! What is he trying to say?
You thought he was a weirdo but now he has firmly shifted over to asshole. You regret not telling him to go fuck himself while you had the chance. The complaint would 100% be worth it. Zero regrets.
On your break, you burn the card and feel a small sense of satisfaction.
.
.
A tall blonde guy with a creepy vibe (hold on, have you seen him before, he seems familiar. Then again, creepy blonde guys seem to be quite common around here-) walks in with the most billowing coat you have ever seen.
The entrance is kinda cool but the actual coat is kinda tragic with the cheesy red lettering and you wonder if you can pull it off any better than him.
You're still wondering about his coat when he's paying you, and hang on you have definitely seen him before because he says arigatou and hands over yen and you tell him no. Won only.
The idea of the coat, which has evolved into you fantasising about having a full blown cape, quickly loses its charm however, when the blonde gets caught in the automatic doors and you have to wrestle them open to free him.
Afterwards, you ask if he's ok, if he is harmed and can’t resist asking if the coat is ok too. You really don't want a lawsuit on your watch especially when the malfunctioning doors are not your fault.
Your kindness is repaid by him telling you he's not interested (what the fuck) and that his heart will not stray (again, what the fuck).
.
.
You accidentally eavesdrop on a couple of students lamenting about missing out on school work. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop ok, the aisles are tight and cramped, it’s a small space. 
You peek over, and the one with big ears (seriously, they are huge) is telling the one with his back to you (goodness, his back is huge too) that school is important and he’s got notes the other one can use. 
It’s sweet, you think. School is important and it’s good they recognise that. Nice of them to help each other out too.
When they both come to pay (holy shit, that’s a fuckton of chocolate milk), you’re surprised to find Big Ear’s friend, Big Back, looks anywhere between late 20s and early 40s but it’s never too late to catch up on education, you suppose.
You spend the rest of your shift feeling motivated.
.
.
“Going camping?” you ask the guy with the sandy blonde hair, chuckling nervously and ringing his items through. 
Either he’s going camping or he’s gonna kill and hide a dead body in the forest.
He’s pretty stoic, only giving you a curt nod. You can’t help but probe him a bit more. You’ve got a feeling that if or when the dead body turns up, you want to at least clear your conscience that you’ve tried your best so you make some more idle small talk.
You mention how you haven’t been camping for ages, not since you nearly burned your tent down and singed your hair after you tried to cook some marshmallows over a fire that turned out to be more of a raging bonfire (and might have awoken your pyromaniac streak, but you keep that to yourself).
The blonde guy actually pipes up and says “Master Taesoo would never do that.” 
You almost apologise out of principle due to how earnest he sounds, then he mentions something about how good this Master Taesoo is at catching and cooking snake and you wonder what the fuck is up with people and the snake obsession.
Either way, it doesn’t sound like someone is getting murdered. Only a snake (poor snake) so at least you can sleep easy later that day.
.
.
“Oh hi DG,” you say, “Sorry about your cryptocurrency falling through. Diegocoin was it?”
He blinks at you a few times in surprise and heavens above. What’s that saying, fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on you? This guy has fooled you exactly no times with his shitty disguises and his effort has substantially dwindled too. 
He has only put his hood up and you did think you might get mugged at one point-
It’s an empty store, for crying out loud. Who comes into an empty store in the asscrack of night with their hood up, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
Then you notice the pink hair and shifty glance and duh.
“Is it the-?” he asks, putting his hood down and signalling to his hair.
“Yeah, it’s the-” you signal to your own head of hair. “Dude you really need to dye it if you’re going for subtle.” You pause, consider something, “Hold on.”
You walk over to the beauty aisle and grab the black hair dye.
“On the house,” you tell DG because this guy really has no self awareness.
.
.
“What do you mean no?”
“No." Your boyfriend peers down at you, arms crossed and at the end of his patience with you.
You open your mouth to argue- 
“No. You know nothing about Taekwondo. How can you work here?”
You look around helplessly at the studio. He’s not exactly wrong but you’re sick of dealing with the weirdos and the snakes and the creepy blondes. “But your dad-”
“I don’t care what that stupid old man says,”
“Taehoon!” Hansu scolds from the other side of the room, and Hansu's class of toddlers all whirl their head around to stare.
“I can learn?” you offer and Taehoon raises one skeptical brow.
“So you’re going to be a student?” You nod enthusiastically, “And we’re going to pay you for that?”
Oh. Damn. 
He’s got you there.
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herozdiary · 28 days
Text
Tired
Francis X reader
This diary entry contains…Established relationship|you know the drill…Baker X Milkman|Francis has sleeping problems|Reader comforts him|Mwah Mwah I love this man|I think warm milk makes you poo i dont know|
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The sound of crickets filled the bedroom as you cuddled in deeper into the fluffy duvet you owned. it was a long week with multiple doppelgängers trying to get it.
Most people started to install special needed security just incase the person they shared an apartment with wasn’t really who they were. of course you saw that was silly and wasn’t needed and you knew if Francis wasn’t the real one, You could just smack him with a metal bowl.
But something you began to pick up on was Francis’s lack of sleep. His eye bags were deeper and he would have to get picked up early because he kept falling asleep on the job.
His boss gave him the rest of the week off to just rest and you agreed to that. You made him take naps wherever like the couch or even on the floor if that was where he wanted to lay. you always vacuumed that area and set down pillows and sheets for him to lay on.
But tonight was no different. you thought about making him melatonin cookies but didn’t wanna risk it. So you just told him to take one and he agreed. Not much was done by the time both of you went to bed.
Besides Francis laying awake to you. He was knocked out the second he hit the pillow so what caused him to wake up in the middle of the night?
He didn’t know himself. He was worried it was gonna affect you as you cared about him so much. He didn’t wanna get up so he thought about different things. counting sheep was something he tried and it did work once but he would steal end up waking up and repeating the cycle.
You stirred around before turning over. "Can't sleep?"You ask. Francis nods before letting out a groan. "It's like torture. i dont know what it is but i need it to go away before i lose my mind."He said as he looked at you.
"Maybe you should make yourself warm milk "You said as you sat up. Francis looked at you before shaking his head. "That would make me shit a lot " Francis said as he sat up and yawned while stretching.
" How about we make a visit to the doctor tomorrow, See what they can do about it or what they think would be best for you " You suggested as you gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. Francis nodded as he plopped back down.
" That would be nice. I should have done that a while ago " He said as he laid his head on your chest. Your hand instantly began to play in his hair as you let out a small hum. "I'll call in the morning. Try to get some sleep dear" you said as you pulled the covers over Francis and you before kissing the top of his head.
Francis was lucky to have you by his side, always taking care of him and looking out for him. He would be lost without you.
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ficsilike-reblogged · 8 months
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Invisible Smoke - Four
Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he doesn’t run.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N)
Word Count: 10.9k
ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED
A/N: I do not keep a tag list!! Life is still weird but thank you all for sticking with this little story of mine. I really appreciate all the kind words you sent on the last chapter. Only one more chapter to go!
Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Also, Jake is a (stubborn) simp.
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Someone had slashed your tires.
Well, you shouldn’t say someone. You knew who had done it. It didn’t exactly take a doctorate to read the context clues—but you were pretty sure your insurance would drop you if you put in another claim, so you begrudgingly prepared to pay the hefty towing fee to the nearest tire shop and fork over even more cash for four new tires. This was one of the few times you wished your little bungalow actually had a garage. And god, you were so tired of this. So tired of the mind games he thought he was playing with you. He thought he was clever. But it was all just so repetitive. You had half a mind to just wait, out in the open, to let him do what he wanted just so it would be over.
It had only been two days since the dog fight football game and the following get together at the Hard Deck. Two days since you caught Jake’s eye at the water’s edge and felt your entire chest twist. He knew now. He knew what you were hiding.
You hadn’t been able to read the look in his eyes but Bradley had taken you aside before you slipped away for the night and basically told you that Jake, for better or for worse, was wanting and willing to help. “Give him a chance, Punch. Don’t you think he deserves that, at least? And you deserve to be happy.”
“When did you become a fortune cookie, Bradley?”
But you wanted to believe him. You did.
But Luke had made you glaringly aware that you weren’t really capable of having a relationship aside from a handful of hours with someone who’d forget your name by morning. You had expected to feel some sort of relief in knowing that Jake hadn’t wanted to wash his hands of you after learning about Luke, but all it did was make you feel like you were painting an even larger target on Jake’s back. He really did want to play hero, didn’t he?
You pushed the thought away as you texted Natasha, telling her you’d be late for brunch and she was quick to tell you not to worry about the tow, she’d send one of the boys to get you to the tire shop. You were expecting Bob and his reliable GMC; he’d been invited to brunch as well anyway.
But a familiar Ford F-250 pulled up instead and Jake stepped out of the cab, looking like a GQ model in a tight Henley and jeans that hugged his thighs a little too well to be fair. He looked at your car and your destroyed tires for just a moment before turning his gaze to you. Your heart gave an answering leap but you tried to not let it show and rolled your shoulders back as he took wide strides toward you.
“Did he do anything else? Did you check your windows-”
“You shouldn’t be here.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even pretend to think of a more polite greeting.
Jake arched an eyebrow before setting his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s just too damn bad, Punch. I am here and I’m not leaving until you tell me what's going on. Now, did anything else happen?”
You wanted to send him away. Wanted to keep him safe. But he was here. He was here and looking at you with those stupidly beautiful green eyes. “It’s just the tires,” you muttered, giving in. At least in this regard. You could handle everything else later.
Jake’s mouth set in a thin line before he moved to look at your tires again. He dug at one of the tears, the edge of his finger easily passing through the ruined rubber. “Jesus.”
Perhaps you should have been surprised when he turned back to the bed of his truck and pulled out a tire and then another and another until four new tires were stacked neatly beside your car. But you had a feeling Jake would always be three steps ahead of you. Infuriating.
“Please tell me you didn’t buy me new tires.”
“All right. I won’t tell you that.”
“Seresin, you can’t be serious. Tell me how much I owe you.”
Jake leaned forward just enough to steal the keys from your hands and popped open your trunk before handing them back. “I don’t want your money.”
“Well, that’s too fucking bad,” you retorted as you followed him to the back of your car. “Tires are expensive! I can afford it. Just let me pay you! You’re already saving me money by not making me take a tow truck. And I might actually make it to brunch on time because of you, too. If you don’t give me an amount, I’ll have to guess.”
Jake moved the mat in your trunk and found your jack and tire iron and then gently grasped your hand that you’d set on the lip of your trunk and moved it before closing it. He then tugged you closer with that damn dimpled smirk and stared down at you with his stupid green eyes. “I’m not taking your money.”
“I will shove money into your pockets at the most inopportune moments and ruin every conquest you set your eyes on.”
But the threat fell flat as Jake’s smirk widened. “So, you’re planning on sticking your hands down my pants…repeatedly?”
Heat washed over you in an angry wave and you pulled your hands out from under his with a grimace instead of a snarl. “Only you would say something like that.”
His smirk continued as he stepped back and set the jack beneath your car and started to twist. “I’m not taking your money.”
“I’m paying for your drinks at the Hard Deck forever.”
“No.”
As he twisted the jack, your eyes were drawn (inevitably) to how his sleeves strained with his moving muscles. That shirt was fighting for its life and you were ogling him like a piece of meat (again). This whole situation was ridiculous! The man who’d tried to kill you twice had slashed your tires and you were flirting (possibly, maybe) with Jake like you didn’t have a care in the world. All of this was wrong. And incredibly stupid.
“Whatever. I’ll do what I want,” you lamely replied, hoping it sounded stronger than it felt.
“I’m sure you will, Punch.” Each word was dripping with something you couldn’t and wouldn’t name and you hated that Jake was able to easily have you smiling when he was there to fix a problem you created.
The tires were changed out within an hour and you invited Jake inside for a glass of water and asked if he wanted to tag along to brunch, it was the last you could do, right?
“I wouldn’t want to intrude-”
“You’re not intruding. Bob’ll be there, too.” The brunch had been an impromptu plan anyway, cobbled together while you’d worked on Natasha and Bob’s jet and listened to Maverick and Cyclone berate the Top Gun students who had started another fight on the tarmac (apparently having learned nothing from the dog fight football games). You’d just been happy your pilots hadn’t been caught in the crossfire this time.
Jake looked at you over his half-finished glass of water and you had to keep yourself from shrinking away from his gaze. His glass clinked against the linoleum as he finished and you tried not to notice how he licked his lips free of the last few droplets of water. “So?” You pushed out, trying to keep your voice level. “Wanna come along?”
Jake’s silence turned at something in your stomach and Bradley’s not-at-all true observation was echoing at the back of your mind before Jake’s smirk returned. “You’re going to try to pay for brunch, aren’t you?”
You hadn’t even thought about it but… “Well, I invited you, so-”
“No.”
You groaned, snatching the glass from him and setting it in your dishwasher as Jake chuckled behind you. “You’re being a child.”
Jake rounded the corner, pushing further into the kitchen behind you, and crossed his arms over his chest (and no you weren’t looking at his arms again). “Why won’t you let me do anything nice for you?”
You frowned and matched his stance and crossed your arms, too. “I let you do nice things. You came with me to Junior’s party with me.”
“After you drove me there and tried to have me take credit for your gift and you introduced me to that group of brass to help me with my career.”
“That was a coincidence.”
“But you still did it.” He stepped closer and you hated that it was instinctual to take a step back, too. “Want to tell me why everything I do for you has to be reciprocal?”
That wasn’t the question you were expecting and your fingernails dug into the meat of your arm as you tried to keep your face neutral. “There’s give and take to everything. And I… You should just let me pay you.”
“I’m not gonna let you pay me, Punch. And you’re going to learn that not everything is a give and take. Who taught you that, anyway?”
God. You hated this. You hated these questions and the soft look in his eyes. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters,” Jake scoffed.
“Why?”
You could see Jake’s jaw clench, tendons working and tightening. But as quickly as it started, it stopped. He just shook his head and the tense silence in the kitchen continued to stretch until it was finally broken by Jake’s next question. “Are we ever going to talk about it?”
And you knew what he was asking. And you wanted to hate that he was connecting dots that you had tried to erase. “What is there to say? You know everything now.”
“I heard it from Rooster, not you. It is your story, Punch.”
“Rooster knows it just as well as I do, I think,” you muttered with a shrug, trying not to shrink away from him. “What else is there for you to know?”
Jake stepped forward, enveloping you in the scent of his expensive cologne and tinge of jet fuel that seemed to cling to him as he closed the distance to stand at your side and brush his arm against yours. “I want to know everything. Haven’t I told you that?”
You gnawed at your lip for a moment before stepping away from the counter. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Luke was an asshole then and he’s an asshole now. I should’ve seen the signs, I get that. I do. But he was so good when he wanted to be. And after being an afterthought for most of my life, it was nice to pretend that someone was choosing me.” This was just pathetic. Stop talking. Stop talking. If he hadn’t thought of washing his hands of you before, he was surely doing it now.
“What do you mean you were an afterthought?”
You rolled your shoulders and turned just enough to look at him before glancing at the little clock above your oven. “Doesn’t matter now. But, if we leave in the next five minutes, we’ll probably beat Natasha and Bob to brunch. So, are you coming?”
**
The ride was mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant Phoenix had picked overlooking the water. But Jake knew you were thinking about telling him something else as you sat in his passenger seat, watching the road pass your window. So, he just told himself to be patient. Again. It was a bright spot to finally know what you looked like in his truck. God knows he’s imagined it more than he’d like to admit, like some lovesick teenager.
You were picking at your cuticles without taking your eyes off the passing scenery. Jake had never seen you nervous, not like this. Even when the Daggers had to ship out for a short deployment and you had to watch them all take off from the carrier, you didn’t act like this. He watched you lean forward just a bit and your eyes narrowed and then it clicked. You weren’t watching the world go by—you were keeping an eye on the cars following the truck in the side view mirror. You were making sure Luke wouldn’t try to run you off the road again.
Jake looked in the rear view mirror and saw sedans, coupes, and a handful of SUVs, and a smaller number of trucks. But not a single black charger. It was clear for now. But you still picked at your cuticles and didn’t peel your eyes from the window.
Jake reached out and set a hand over yours, stilling your picking. You jumped under the touch and Jake curled his fingers over yours a little tighter, trying to anchor you to something else a little less destructive. “We’re okay, Punch, all right?”
You looked at him and Jake hated that he had to look at the road for safety purposes when you searched his face for something. “For now,” you said in return, once again turning to look out at the cars.
Jake squeezed your hand again and didn’t let go even as you muttered the next handful of directions to the restaurant. He awkwardly shifted into park and took the keys out of the ignition after finding a spot in the steadily filling lot. Your shoulders were slumped as you turned back to him, face unreadable except for the pinch between your brows that he wanted to smooth with a brush of his thumb.
(Maybe one day.)
“All right. We’re gonna go in there, eat our weight in overpriced waffles and then I’m going to take you home and double check your windows and locks. Okay?”
Your eyes swept up to look up at him and Jake felt that familiar warmth starting to unfurl in his chest. Your thumb swept over his knuckles but he wasn’t sure if you were aware you were even doing it. “I can’t afford to buy you your weight in waffles.”
Jake barked out a laugh and shook his head. “You’re not going to buy me brunch. Stop trying.” He had to bite back the pleased smile he felt growing when he heard your gasp after he raised your joined hands and pressed a kiss to your fingers.
“You are ridiculous.” Your voice was tight as it wheedled out from between your lips before you (slowly) pulled your hand from his and reached for the door handle. “C’mon. We need to get on the list.”
The air was tinged with the scent of sea salt and syrup as he followed you into the glass and metal building, already teeming with people. You were quick to give your name and group size to the hostess who said it would probably be a fifteen minute wait. Just as you turned to grab one of the oddly shaped bar stools near the door to it for your name to be called, Phoenix was striding in, too. She pushed her sunglasses up her hair before sweeping you into a hug with a loud kiss to your cheek. “I knew you’d beat me here.” Then her dark eyes dragged to Jake as he stood behind you. “Hangman. What’re you doing here?”
“He drove me,” you said. “I figured it would be fine.”
“Of course it is,” Phoenix said, waving it away but Jake knew the gleam in her eyes. She wasn’t quite finished. “You two arrived together?” She asked, eyes bouncing between you and Jake.
“Ken fixed my tires. Figured I could treat him to brunch as a thank you.”
Jake had to groan at that, knocking his hand into your hip and earring a halfhearted swat at his arm in retaliation. “I told you, you’re not paying for me.”
Phoenix hummed and anchored her gaze on Jake and he fought the urge to stand a little straighter. “Yeah. That was awful nice of him. When you told me that the neighbor kid slashed your tires, I thought Hangman would be a gentleman and drive you to the tire shop. Not fix them himself.”
Neighbor kid. You had lied to Phoenix? Granted, her text had just said that your tires had been slashed and that you’d needed help—it wasn’t exactly filled with details. Jake had assumed that she had known. But that didn’t matter now and he plastered his well-used smirk on his face. “Well, I’m a-”
“Don’t stroke your own ego, Bagman.” She then glanced at something over his shoulder and smiled. “Bob just got here. Bob!” She threw up a hand to grab the WSO’s attention and he jogged toward the group when he spotted her. He nearly collided with a waitress and they both apologized—profusely—before going their separate ways. By the time Bob reached their little group, his face was a vibrant and familiar shade of red.
“Nearly swept that pretty girl off her feet, Baby on Board.” Jake braced for the hit he knew was coming and winced when Phoenix’s fist collided with his arm.
The group was seated soon after and Jake had to bite back a grumble when Bob was the one to pull out your chair for you when you reached the table. When Jake went to do the same to Phoenix, she hit him again.
Bob was nearly the shade of a strawberry when he realized the woman he’d nearly bowled over would be your waitress and nearly dropped his silverware roll when he noticed her striding over to the table. Food was ordered—both you and Jake ordered waffles while Phoenix wanted to try the brioche French toast and Bob wanted eggs Benedict with steak—and mimosas (and pineapple juice for Bob) were poured as Phoenix regaled the table with her run-in with a guy at the gym on base. The Ensign hadn’t realized Phoenix a) outranked him and b) wasn’t interested in bulging muscles and whatever the younger man could(n’t) provide. The interaction ended when Phoenix “politely” challenged him to a friendly competition to see who could handle more weight while doing hip thrusters. Phoenix started out with thirty pounds more than him and he called her a dyke so she had him barred from the gym and probably had a meeting with his commanding officers on Monday, too.
You giggled and tipped your mimosa flute into Phoenix’s before you both took a sip. It was good to see you smile like that.
The waitress came by a few minutes later with the food and she was quick to divvy up the plates but Jake watched her make sure Bob’s was the last plate and she stood at his side and carefully set it down, making sure to bend down just enough to brush against his arm. “Careful, the plate is hot,” she practically purred.
(Phoenix quickly had Jake’s laugh turning into a poorly disguised cough when she sent him a look across the table.)
“I’ll be careful. I can handle it.”
Then the waitress actually giggled and stood straight, setting her hand on Bob’s shoulder for just a moment. “I’m sure you can. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” She then turned and walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips which Bob completely missed because he was busy unrolling his silverware.
The group watched him as he carefully cut into his meal and shoved a bite between his lips. He went to take another when he noticed the stares. “What?”
“Robert,” you started, voice strained to avoid a giggle. “She was flirting with you.”
His fork froze before it reached his mouth.”No, she wasn’t. She told me the plate was hot.”
Phoenix reached over and patted her back seater’s shoulder. “Oh, Bob.”
The other man’s blush returned and he shoved the bite between his lips. “How is telling me that the plate is hot flirting?”
Jake shook his head and fought a smile of his own. “Listen, do you like her?”
Bob chanced a glance at the waitress at the hostess booth and immediately ducked his head when she caught him and wagged her fingers at him with a wink. “She’s beautiful.”
“But?” Jake prodded, hearing a slight hesitation. He had always been good at reading people (you were an exception), and Jake had played therapist to a handful of the Daggers since he proved he could be someone other than Hangman. He wanted Bob to be happy.
“But I don’t know. She looks like she’d eat me alive.” He fiddled with his fork. “Can we talk about something else?”
Jake was the one who shifted the conversation to the insufferable group of Top Gun pilots that would thankfully be leaving soon enough. A friendly bet was placed on who everyone thought would actually get the trophy and Jake tried not to smile too much when Bob knocked his foot into his as a quiet thank you and you, seemingly unaware of Bob’s quiet gratitude, set your hand over Jake’s arm for a moment in your own show of appreciation. As soon as it happened, it was gone again.
That was okay. Jake was determined to have it happen again.
Brunch continued on and finished after another round of drinks and splitting a funnel cake that the waitress insisted they try. Jake was sure the woman pouted after not receiving Bob’s phone number when he signed his check but he wouldn’t mention it. Jake liked this strange bit of normalcy. With you. He even if both Bob and Phoenix made vague threats against his life if he hurt you. Jake was determined to have more of these moments with you. Even if you grumbled about Jake hustling to get to the truck before you so he could open your door.
The tension in the cab on the way to brunch was absent now and Jake didn’t even care when you teased him about his choice in radio stations—calling him a cliche for listening to early Tim McGraw. But you said it with a laugh and Jake had to laugh, too. He liked that it was you who brought up Bob and his interactions with the waitress.
“I want Bob to be happy. And he’s mentioned once or twice that he’d like to have a family.”
Jake thought for a moment before the perfect person popped into his thoughts. “I know a girl.”
“No, you don’t. I don’t trust your taste in women.”
And Jake had to laugh at that. Had to. You were his taste in women. But the person he had in mind for Bob would be perfect. “She’s a CPA. Wears glasses. And she only drinks ginger ale despite helping Penny with the Hard Deck’s taxes. And she’s the only person outside of Texas that I trust with my tax return.”
Your face scrunched and Jake knew you were thinking it over. “Just because they both wear glasses and have an affinity for Seagram’s doesn’t mean they’d be a good match.”
“Just trust me. It might take a minute to get her to look him in the eye-”
“She’s shy?”
“So shy. It’s adorable. And just what Baby on Board needs.”
You scowled at him but he knew you didn’t really mean it when you knocked your shoulder into his over the center console a moment later. He eventually pulled into your driveway and threw the truck into park before turning to you but you were scrambling out of your seat and up to your front door before he could even get a word in edgewise.
Oh.
Jake wasn’t sure if he’d ever been rejected as soundly as that before. But then he saw you waving him forward from your front stoop and Jake nearly clocked himself in the face with the seatbelt buckle as he hurried to follow you inside. He shut your door behind him, engaging just two out of the five locks as you hurried toward something just down the hall.
“Punch?”
“Just a moment!” You yelled in return.
Jake resisted the urge to settle on the couch again, like he’d done weeks ago. Everything seemed different now. You weren’t trying to push him away and he could hear you shuffling something in the other room and he was suddenly struck with a daydream of coming home to you, waiting for you to notice his presence and smiling when you saw him. “You’re home!” As soon as the vision came, it was gone, and Jake shook himself a little as if that would help him forget what he’d conjured up. What he’d wanted since the moment you first called him Ken, even if he never admitted it out loud.
You walked back into the living room and slapped something down onto the small table you had lining the back of your couch.
“Whatcha got there, Punch?”
Your answering smile was all teeth, like a cat who got the cream and Jake saw that it was a fifty dollar bill as it peeked from between your fingers. “Well, I added up how many miles it is from base, to my house, to the restaurant, then back to my house and then guessed on how many miles you get per gallon. And, you use premium gas, right? Either way, this should be enough for gas, but if you use diesel, this should cover it.” You slapped another fifty atop the first after pulling it from your back pocket.
Jake looked at the stack of cash and then back at you before he sighed, a long put-upon sigh that he knew was obnoxious but it was worth it when he heard you try to stifle a laugh. God. You were relentless.
“First, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you’re awful at math. Like, so bad.”
“Hey!”
“And second, I’m still not taking your money.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“I’m being a friend, Punch. Friends drive each other around and help them when they need it. And I’m willing to bet-“
“I’ll take that bet.”
Jake continued on, ignoring you, “-that you wouldn’t expect to be paid back if our places were switched.”
You pulled your lips into your mouth for a moment and drummed your fingers against the money. “I lost that bet. Guess you’ll have to take the money.”
Jake groaned but he could feel a laugh starting to bubble in his chest. “You’re impossible.”
**
It was too soon to call this a victory, but you were sure you were closing in on one. He would take the money and then you could pretend to feel fine about everything he’d done for you. Sure.
“Actually, I have something you could do if you’re so hellbent on paying me back.” Before you could ask what he meant, he was unlocking your door and jogging out to his truck and pulling something out, tucking it behind his back as he returned. “Can you sign this for me?”
Then he dropped a purple book in your hand and your stomach dropped to your feet as you looked at the gold lettering across the cover. “You snooped!” You said, too embarrassed to be angry. You held the book up to your chest as if that would guard you from his knowing look or the embarrassment starting to churn your stomach.
“You knew I would! Why’re you surprised?” His smile was back and he took a step toward you. You took a responding step back until he was crowding you against your bookshelf, hands landing on the shelves on either side of your shoulders. And it could have been a threatening stance, an unnerving cage, but all you felt was safe. Safe as he blotted out the rest of the world and it was just you and him and your books in the quiet of your home.
You should not feel like this, you knew that. It was stupid and dangerous and you couldn’t stop it. What had happened to your resolve that you had just yesterday for keeping him at arm's length?
Your fingers drummed against the paperback and you hurriedly flipped it open when your eyes tracked down to his mouth. Oh. “Should I sign it ‘To Ken?’ Or-”
“Could you actually sign it for my sister Mia? She reads your books in her book club.”
“Oh.” Was all you could say. That was…that was actually really nice to know. You knew people read your books; Danny had framed a newspaper clipping showing your second book reaching a top ten spot one of the Best Sellers lists and had gifted it to you for your last birthday. They were mildly popular, you knew that. But to actually be confronted with the fact that someone you vaguely knew was reading your books was something else. You reached back and grabbed one of the pens you kept in a cup on the shelf. “Mia? She’s your oldest sister, right?” A quick glance up at Jake had your heart twisting. His look was too soft. Too happy.
“Yeah, Punch. That’s her.”
You took the time to write your pseudonym with extra flair and then added a heart next to Mia’s name, too. “Is this for her birthday or anything?”
“She’s…” Jake paused for a moment. “She’s just going through a rough patch right now. Your books make her smile.”
The pen stalled on the page for just a moment before you shoved at his chest to get him to back up just enough to grab at your ARC for your newest book and quickly scrawled, Wishing you expensive champagne and good memories! Happy reading! You then signed your name again and added a half dozen hearts next to Mia’s name at the top of the page. You slapped both books against Jake’s chest with a frown. “That book hasn’t been released yet, so I may get in a bit of trouble with my publisher if she tells anyone.”
Jake’s hands covered yours on the books and the toe of his shoe knocked into your socked feet as he moved closer, dragging your attention back to his stupidly handsome face again. “She won’t tell anyone but I know I’ll probably get an earful about how I got them.” His thumbs brushed against your knuckles and you would swear that you could feel it behind your ribs. “Where’d you get that name anyway?”
You almost snorted at the way he phrased that question, like you found it on the side of a cereal box. “My parents were obsessed with Stephen King—they actually met at a book club specifically for King’s books. My sister, Georgie, was named after the kid who got their arm ripped off at the beginning of It. And my brother, Danny, is named after the kid in The Shining, Danny Torrance.”
“And you? I don’t think I’ve read your name in his books.”
It was a fair enough question. King had dozens of books and Jake didn’t seem like the type to clamor for the newest release. “I was named by my grandparents after they discovered the reasoning behind my sister’s name. If my parents wanted to stay in the will, I had to have a name they picked. Of course, when my brother was born, my parents picked something a little more innocuous so they wouldn’t rock the boat again. But, anyway, to actually answer your question; I took my siblings’ names as a sort of thank you to them. Georgie became Georgia and I took Danny’s literary counterpart’s last name. And Georgia Torrance was born. I wrote most of my books when I had downtime on deployments. I took a chance and sent it off to an agent and I got a nice contract with a moderately respectable publishing house. It isn’t Stephen King money by any means, but I can upgrade my plane ticket to Business Class if I wanted to once or twice a year.”
“Your parents must’ve gotten a kick out of that.”
You tried to fight the sigh you felt growing in your throat but lost. You also lost the wherewithal to keep a single secret from him. “I don’t know. I don’t really talk to them.”
“What?”
“After Danny got sick, all of their attention was on him, which I understand. I do. But I was still just a kid who needed her parents every once in a while. But it was like I ceased to exist to them until they remembered I could help with the hospital bills. Georgie was already out of the house and getting her degree and would call but it wasn’t the same. I kinda gave up on having a relationship with my parents after they forgot about my rowing meet and I waited to be picked up for three hours before eventually just walking home.”
“Punch-”
And once you started, you couldn’t stop, like a can of pop shaken and bursting. “Danny was hooked up to like six different machines and was high off his ass and he apologized for all the…all the bullshit. I told him it was unnecessary. He was sick. I’m just happy he’s healthy again.”
God. You really knew how to ruin every moment, didn’t you?
Jake set the books on the shelf just beside your shoulder but was quick to lean over you again and you hated how Jake really was a certifiable blueprint for a romantic literary hero. You could write a single description of him in your next book and you’d know it would skyrocket to the top of the Best Sellers lists but you had been actively avoiding trying to piece together a story from your life. And, as if he knew you were debating something, the bastard actually propped his other arm up on the bookcase and leaned over you. Oh god. He was doing the lean and was going to ask you something about your fucked up childhood.
Shit.
Alarm bells were ringing in your head, letting you know that this moment could be disastrous. So, you decided to not let it go on any longer. “Jesus. Sorry. I really know how to kill a good time, huh? I think I’ve taken up quite enough of your time for the day. Let me know what Mia thinks of the books, okay?”
You ducked beneath his arm, intent on leading him to the door, but Jake grasped your hand and pulled you to a stop. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that again. Don’t shut me out. I’m happy you feel like you can tell me stuff like that, that you’re comfortable enough to trust me with that. Don’t pull away again. Not from me.”
You knew that if you looked at him right now, his green eyes would be wide and pleading. So, you just didn’t look. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now. I don’t know why you’re doing this, Jake.”
“Doing what?” He asked softly, as softly as his hand on yours.
“Buying me tires? Driving me around? Being…being this fucking nice to me all the time when I’ve only been a dick to you?” You asked as you felt your chin wobble. “Why?”
Jake was quiet for a moment. Just a moment. “You know why.”
“No! No, I don’t because…” You couldn’t finish the sentence because then it was real, it would be real and you didn’t know how to deal with that again. You looked up at him and tried to remember what you were protecting him from. Pulling your hand out of his, you set your hands on your hips. “Because you can’t.”
Jake’s shoulders rolled before his lips set in a thin line. “I do. And I know you feel the same.”
You scoffed and tried to ignore the warmth in your chest that he was right. He felt the same. Wouldn’t that just be the worst? “You really think that highly of yourself? You’re so sure that I-”
Jake leaned closer and the rest of your argument stalled. You could smell the mint on his breath from the stupid toothpick he was chewing on in the truck just beneath the warmth of his cologne. God. He was intoxicating. You almost hated him for a moment because every ounce of fight you had drained out of you. “Ken.”
“Tell me to stop and I will.” He moved closer. Closer. Closer.
His warm hand skirted up your arm until it settled against the gentle arc of muscle between your neck and shoulder and the other settled on your hip. You could feel each of his fingers pressing into your skin like a brand. Every breath he took brushed against your mouth and you licked your lips without a thought as he leaned even closer.
“Last chance.” You could feel his smile against your mouth, growing with each syllable.
And you had to smile. Had to because he was your Ken and this felt inevitable. Jake was inevitable. “Do your worst.”
He kissed you and it was instantly all consuming. Surely, he could feel your smile, too. You actually laughed against his mouth as your hands pressed against his chest. Jake pulled back just enough for you to see his smile before he kissed you again, catching your bottom lip between his and tugging to have you gasping. His stupid, perfect teeth nipped at the skin and he was quick to soothe the sting with a flick of his tongue.
Then you were moving backward, guided by his gentle movements, until your spine went flat against the wall beside your bookshelves. The kiss was all smiling lips and searching tongues as Jake held you tight. Everything was warm and tinged with the mint on his tongue and Jake Jake Jake.
His thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw and he sighed against your panting mouth. “So fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and you could feel it curling in your stomach.
But your entire body seized when you felt his hand move to wrap around your throat as his mouth continued to work against yours. You couldn’t help it; you flinched. The kiss ended abruptly as you pulled back despite you not wanting it to end. But it couldn’t be helped. Not yet. You watched an array of emotions flash across Jake’s face before it settled on despair.
“Fuck.” The single syllable was wrenched from his throat as he took a step back and his hands fell back to his sides and left you cold. “Fuck, Punch, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I-”
“W-wait…I just…” How could you even phrase this without sounding unhinged? “I just need a moment.” Your next breath rattled in your lungs but you still reached for his hand and raised it again, moving it just enough for his fingers to encircle your throat once more. The roughened planes and angles of his hand had you shivering but you managed to drag your eyes up to his and tried to not show how nervous you actually felt. “It… you can, if you want. I’d actually prefer to have some good memories of something like this instead of-”
The rest of your rambling was cut off as his lips pressed against yours. The grip on your throat grew a little more insistent, a little heavier, but nothing stronger than just a simple weight, an anchor at your pulse. His other hand smoothed up your arm to curl over your cheek just as he pried your lips apart, delving into your mouth to steal the building whine from your throat.
Your heart hammered behind your ribs as you felt the warmth of Jake’s hand bleed through your shirt as his palm brushed the side of your chest. He moved forward and your legs instinctively parted to accommodate the thigh he was shoving between yours and your next breath caught in your throat when the denim brushed against the crux of your thighs.
“Fuck,” you hissed when Jake’s lips seared a path across your cheek and down your throat to bite at your thrumming pulse. You hadn’t even remembered when your hands had dropped to wrinkle his shirt again but you still pulled him closer as every nerve ending sparked. And then-
“Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!”
Immediately, you pulled away from Jake with a grimace as ABBA’s song continued to fill the air. “Oh Jesus, that’s Natasha’s ringtone. She never calls.” You ducked beneath his arm for the second time tonight and pulled your phone off its perch on the kitchen counter and answered it as you heard Jake sigh. Turning to look at him, you saw his head drop to his chest for a moment before standing straight again and following in your footsteps toward the kitchen.
“I asked Rooster out and I think he thinks it is just as a friends thing and I want to bash my head against the wall.” Tasha screeched, words running together in a rush. She continued on, explaining that somehow she and Bradley had been roped into helping Penny restock the Hard Deck before opening today and Natasha had (finally) acted on her (reciprocated) feelings after Rooster had been his usually flirty self the entire time and then dragged Natasha to the piano and made her sing along to Elton John’s Your Song. Jesus.
You looked over at Jake to see him looking at you with another soft look on his face and a bit of pink in his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him.
He waved it away before stealing a quick kiss, too, that had your heart rate picking up again.
“Punch? You there?”
You pushed out a breath and shook your head as you pressed a hand to Jake’s chin, keeping him from doing it again. You could feel his self satisfied smirk against your fingers. “Yeah. I’m here. And, um, I don’t know. I think you’d be surprised with Bradley. He’s probably picking out his nicest Hawaiian shirt in preparation.”
Tasha groaned but you had to smile because Jake nipped at your fingers. “You think?”
“I do. It is gonna be great. I know it.”
She sighed, crackling the line, but eventually agreed. “He can’t be that oblivious right?” She asked, making you both laugh. “Also, don’t think I’m forgetting about you and Hangman coming to brunch together. We’re gonna talk on Monday.”
“You don’t forget anything, Tasha. I’m well aware.”
You eventually said your goodbyes after promising her you would talk to her on Monday and then dropped your phone on the counter again and your hand from Jake’s mouth.
“I never thought you’d be a tease.” His tone let you know he was joking but you also could have guessed with the smirk pushing at his mouth, too.
Your jaw dropped for a moment before an embarrassed giggle rippled out of you. “I said I was sorry! I was worried!” Biting your lip as you looked at him, you shook your head. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
“It was quite the moment, huh?” His smirk had fallen to a soft smile despite his self assured words.
“Yeah, it was.” You didn’t even want to tease him now but then a small voice whispered at the back of your mind that it wasn’t a moment to him. After all, who would want-
“Steak or seafood?” He asked, knocking the rest of your thoughts right out of your head.
“What?”
“I have a list of restaurants that I want to take you to, if you’re willing to let me pay and bring you flowers.” The usual bravado that bled through all of his words wavered now. Was he nervous?
“Sounds like you’re asking me out on a date, Ken.”
“I’m trying here, Punch. So? Steak or seafood.”
Hope and happiness were blooming and twisting and growing within the confines of your ribs now. He wanted to take you out on a date. “I’m allergic to shellfish,” was all you could say through your smile.
“Steak it is. I’ll update my list when I get home.” He reached out and swept his thumb across the slope of your cheek and you found yourself leaning into the touch a little more. Jake seemed content to just hold your face in his hand for a moment before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I should go. I want to do this right with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to wine and dine you, darlin’. Want to earn those lips of yours again,” he said as his thumb moved to press at the heated skin of your bottom lip. “You deserve it. And I want to be the one to give it to you.”
For just a moment, you worried that Jake would hear how hard your heart was beating. No one had ever said anything like that to you before. “Oh.”
This was different. Jake was different. You just had to give him permission to show you.
“I’d like that.”
He smiled and stepped back, hand dropping back to his side. “You’re a good friend to Phoenix, by the way. Bradshaw, too.”
You smiled again. “They’re good to me. All of you have been.” Slowly, you herded him toward the door, knowing he had a plan.
He stopped at the door, just after you undid the locks. “Does Phoenix know?”
You shook your head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “It’s hard enough to be taken seriously in the Navy as a woman. She had her own battles, Luke was mine. I always thought she was so strong and, for a while, I thought she’d just see me as weak if she knew what I’d put up with. But I know now that is an unfair thought. Tasha is and always has been one of my best friends and staunchest supporters. I should tell her, right? And maybe I will, after all of this is over. I don’t…I don’t want anyone else I care about to be wrapped up in this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” And you tried to ignore the sinking feeling that you had once again put Jake in Luke’s crosshairs.
But this time had to be different. It had to be.
Jake shook his head and cupped his hands at the back of your head before touching his forehead to yours. “We’re going to finish this, okay? We will.”
You nodded and smiled despite it all when he pressed another quick kiss to your forehead—it was like he couldn’t stop kissing you. And you weren’t about to complain. “Get home safe, Ken.”
You watched him get into his truck and waved as he pulled out and you knew he was telling you to lock your doors through the windshield. Your phone rang again just as he disappeared down the road and you knew by the way Jerry Lewis blared that it was now Bradley calling.
**
It had only been two days since Jake kissed you and had promised you a date. Two days and it was like the entirety of Top Gun was trying to keep you apart. You barely saw each other after he got roped into helping Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson into looking over the files of the next hopeful batch of aviators who could be called to San Diego. But it was fine. Sure. It wasn’t as if you could walk in holding his hand; you were still in the Navy and there were still protocols and rules you needed to follow. You had a feeling you and Jake would be breaking a lot of them.
You were kept busy with repairing Harvard’s jet after he managed to land safely after a bird strike. Your lunch breaks and evenings were spent talking to either Natasha or Bradley about their upcoming date-not-date while not revealing that you knew what the other was thinking. You did, however, mention to Bradley that Rueben and Mickey had started a betting pool about how long it would take Bradley to admit who he was in love with after Mickey spotted him with a pad of paper during lunch which was apparently filled with a speech about loving someone for years. You then spent the next hour workshopping the speech he was going to say to Natasha. It was beautiful and heartfelt and filled with analogies you tried to trim down (gently). He was still, annoyingly, assuming that their dinner on Wednesday was not a date in Natasha’s eyes but he was still going to try to confess his feelings and hope for the best.
You knew he’d be over the moon with how Natasha would react.
As Wednesday bled into Thursday, you were nearly dead on your feet but you’d been watching Natasha and Bradley all day, trying to decipher how their date had gone by their body language. You drove home that night without many answers but your phone rang just before you pulled down your street and quickly answered when Natsha’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hello?”
“He said he’s in love with me!”
“Hello, Tasha. How are you? I’ve had a great day. How was yours?”
“Oh, shut up!” She laughed. “I’m freaking out! He said he was in love with me—has been for years, apparently—and all I did was kiss him afterward. That’s not fair, right? I also need to have a speech. I can’t let him win this. I want to do a PowerPoint.” You had to mute your phone at that so she wouldn’t hear you snort. Everything was a competition. “Do you have that picture of me and him from Mav’s birthday last year?”
“I do,” you said, knowing exactly which one she was referencing. It was of Bradley and Natasha at the piano. Bradley had just led everyone through a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for Mav and there was still a flush on his cheeks. Natasha was right next to him in a stunning blue dress and smiling at him. It was the picture you promised to yourself that you would show at their wedding. You rushed inside, pinning the phone between your ear and shoulder and hurriedly shut the door behind you before darting toward your bedroom without bothering to turn on any of the lights—you said you’d drop it off at her apartment as soon as you’d found it. You were going to be in and out. You flopped onto your stomach, overturning the small mountain of pillows you had at the headboard, before grabbing at the storage container beneath the bed frame. You hauled it up and onto the bed and flipped the lid. To your chagrin, your “filing” system was essentially nonexistent when it came to photos and you started to sift through them as Natasha continued to talk, telling you about the date she’d planned and laughing about how much Bradley had stumbled over his speech.
God, it was so nice just to hear her laugh. They were going to be happy together. You knew it.
A door opened and closed slowly in the distance—your neighbor must’ve finally sprayed his door with WD-40 because it didn’t creak. Good. It only took him three years. But your heart nearly stopped when you heard your neighbor’s door open a few seconds later and its distinctive creak filled the night air. Something thumped down the hall and your spine went rigidly straight, still holding the phone to your ear as blood roared in your ears. You hadn’t locked the door. You had been inside for less than five minutes and you hadn’t thought it was necessary–you would have been leaving again soon anyway.
But you should have taken the time. A careless, stupid mistake.
The noise came again and sat up on bed, spilling the pictures in your hold onto your blankets. “Punch?” Natasha asked, pulling your focus. “You still there?”
“I…I think there’s someone in my house,” you whispered. Every part of your body was telling you to run. Right now. But where could you? Your house had one door and the person was in your living room.
Natasha was quiet for just a moment before whispering, “I’m gonna call the cops, okay? You hide.”
“N-no,” you hissed. “Don’t hang up. Stay with me.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll stay on the line with you, but-”
The line went dead with three terrible beeps and you wrenched the phone away from your ear to see ‘Call Lost - Try Again?’ written across the screen. No matter how many times you tried to call or text, nothing went through. The little icon at the top where you usually saw the lines denoting your network was now just a terrible X. The network was either down or whoever had come into your house had turned on a jammer. And you knew which was more plausible—but god, you had never wished for a network outage more.
Slowly, you slid off the bed and into the hall just as you heard the distinctive sound of a boot hitting the corner of your coffee table. Someone was in your house.
**
Mia had loved the books. Apparently her book club had ooh’d and ahh’d over the signed book but she had, as Jake knew she would, kept the copy of your newest book a secret but had rattled off her opinions to Jake. “And I can’t believe you know her!” She squawked on the other end of the line. It had been so good to hear the smile in his sister’s voice again. It was priceless. Jake had also evaded any questions as to who you were–it wasn’t his secret to tell–but he hoped that you’d be the one to tell Mia sooner rather than later.
It had been a good day. For the most part, anyway. He would have preferred to have had more than just a small smile and wave from you for the last few days, but he could be patient.
When Jake’s phone chirped with a new message, he’d expected something from Javy, keeping him up to date about the conversation he was hoping to have with his girlfriend’s father. The ring Jake had helped Javy pick out was burning a hole in his pocket and Jake hoped that his best friend would be able to plan a cool as fuck bachelor party and then make sure the whole wedding goes smoothly.
And maybe he could ask you to be his date. He could dance with you and make you smile and-
Any happy thought he had evaporated when he looked at his phone.
Someone broke into Punch’s house! I’m calling the cops!
Jake was in his truck before he could even think to type out a response and sped toward your house as the group chat started to explode with a barrage of texts he didn’t read. He knew who had broken in. There was only one possible answer.
Jake just hoped he’d get there in time.
**
You needed to get out of the house…or at least get to something you could use as a weapon. The baseball bat you kept near the bookshelves could work, right? Slipping further down the hall, you tried to tell yourself that you could get out of this.
Creak.
You clapped a hand over your mouth as you pressed your spine to the wall, trying to quiet your breathing.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He was in your kitchen. You knew the sound of hard soled shoes on the uneven tiles. Could you make a run for it? Could you trap him in the laundry room? That had to be your only option. You turned the corner into your living room and your stomach fell to your feet.
Luke was standing in your kitchen. Knife in hand. Waiting for you. He looked almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. His brown hair was still cropped short. His brown eyes were still narrowed and cold. His clothes were rumpled designer brands. He hadn’t changed. And that was terrifying.
You dove for the baseball bat, curling your hands around it before you turned and swung blindly. The bat cracked against his arm and Luke yelled, low and guttural as he staggered backward for a moment. But then he was lunging forward and grasping at the bat to wrench it out of your hands. He threw it across the living room and it smacked against the wall, shattering the glass in two frames before knocking them to the floor with a terrible crack. You couldn’t go for it again. There was no way past him now.
You should have aimed for his head.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”
You cringed at the nickname but didn’t take your eyes off the knife in his hand.
Luke didn’t wait for an answer to his question before barreling on. “And look what you’ve done. Got all those nice pins on your shirt, moving up in the ranks, and…” he paused as a smirk slithered across this mouth, “you got my dad’s money. A nice little nest egg.You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you? And you didn’t have to work for any of it.”
He took a step forward and you took one back, ankle colliding with your coffee table.
“And what about me? I’m so glad you asked!” He snarled. “I’ve been dishonorably discharged. And you want to know why?”
“I had nothing to do with that, Luke. W-we had an agreement, remember? I keep my mouth shut and you…you were supposed to stay away from me.”
Luke’s tongue clicked against his teeth before he waved the knife. “You had everything to do with it. That LoA in my file was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I could’ve been given another chance if you had just kept your mouth shut when I told you to back in the-“
“I didn’t say anything. You were going to get Bradley killed!” The words bubbled out of you before you could think of the repercussions.
Luke was on you in a flash. The tip of the knife pressed over your sternum and you could feel it with each labored breath you sucked in between clenched teeth.
“He would’ve been fine! I know how to do my job! You ruined everything and then took my dad's money!” The knife pressed closer closer closer. It started to tear through the thin material of your shirt and shallowly cut your skin. The whimper you felt blooming in your throat died when you saw the gleam in Luke’s eyes.
Before you could even stop to think of an alternative, you threw your hands up and caught the knife. The edge sank through the delicate skin between your fingers and into your palm but you didn’t recoil. Couldn’t. You were only able to drag the knife down, the tip cutting against the skin just above your stomach.
Fresh pain bloomed across your face and it took you a moment to realize that Luke had slapped you. And then he did it again, making sure to send your head flying backward to slam into the wall hard enough and have stars dancing in front of your eyes. Your grip almost fell, loosening a fraction, and just for a moment everything was silent.
Just a moment.
You’d never be able to describe the pain that bloomed as Luke moved and drove the knife in, slotting it between your ribs and twisting with a vicious flick of his wrist. Your next breath stalled just behind your tongue as every nerve ending exploded with heat and teeth and a terrible popping sensation bubbled beneath your skin. “L-Luke…”
He pushed the knife deeper as he pressed his cheek to yours in an echo of the hugs he used to give you. “I used to miss you, you know. Did you miss me? I treated you so well. I was good to you. So good. I gave you everything.” The knife rocked back and forth and you felt the ridge of it with each movement. You felt all of it. Your grip faltered against the knife gain but you knew you couldn’t drop your hold.
He would kill you.
“And you had to ruin it. You ruined my life.”
“L-Luke…”
“I need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me you know what you did. You had this coming. All of it.”
“I didn’t,” you wheezed. Your chest was collapsing in on itself like you had a boar sitting on your sternum.
“Say it! You don’t get to play victim this time. You were the one who ruined my life.”
“You were a d-drunk! I did all that work for you until you told me you’d kill me if I made you l-look bad again!” Each word was a crack against your ribs, sharp and biting, but you couldn’t stop. This would be your only chance to say this, you knew it. If you were going to die tonight, you were going to let him know what you really thought of him. “You…” You sucked in a breath that only served to make you ache. “You only got through basic because your daddy bribed someone. You only got into the Navy at all because he made a phone call to someone after you failed the ASVAB. You…you fail at everything you do. You were a shitty AD. And you couldn’t kill me.” Blood dribbled out of your mouth and you felt it slid down your chin. “Twice. So you better make this count.”
Luke’s teeth glinted in the low light and he ripped the knife out only to plunge it back in. You felt the blade scrape against the edge of your hip as you let out a scream that fizzled out to a gurgle as more blood filled your mouth.
“I’ll make it count!” Luke seethed as he drove the knife deeper and pushed you into the wall.
Everything burned. Everything ached. And all you could do was scream as your knees knocked together, strength dribbling out of you with each frantic pulse of your heart.
Luke leaned forward to press his forehead against yours and the knife twisted. “Do you feel it, baby? Do you feel me inside you?” His breath smelled of the expensive cognac you knew he liked to guzzle and rolled your stomach.
“Luke.” You didn’t want to die looking into his eyes. You didn’t want to die at all, but you weren’t going to have your last earthly memory be of Luke and his cold eyes, so you shut your eyes as the tips of your fingers started to tingle.
The screech of a siren broke through the haze of your mind. You had to laugh but that, too, was cut short when Luke pulled the knife out and rushed toward the window to see the night sky filled with red and blue lights. You crumpled. Your hands slapped against the floor for just a moment before you slumped in a heap against the carpet as your arms gave out.
You vaguely heard your front door slam against the wall and knock another picture from its perch. There was an answering sound of glass shattering before warm, rough hands gently grasped at your shoulders. You struggled for just a moment when your scrambled brain thought Luke had come back to make sure you were dead. Unfocused eyes barely registered Jake kneeling above you.
“Punch? Punch, c’mon darlin’. There you are.” His voice was muffled but you felt yourself smiling anyway as everything started to prickle like you’d pinned your limbs beneath your weight for too long. The smile quickly died when Jake’s hands clamped down over your wounds and a surprised yelp punched out from between your teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I gotta stop the bleeding.”
“I-it hurts.”
“I know. I know it does. But it’ll only hurt a little longer, all right? You gotta stay awake for me. The cops are almost here.” His grip tightened. “We’ll get you fixed up and-”
“Where’s…Luke?” Was he still in your house? Would he hurt Jake?
“I don’t know, darlin’. He’s gone. We’ll find him, okay? We’ll find him and he’ll never do this to you again. But I need you to stay awake.”
Black dots were pushing their way into your line of sight, blotting out Jake’s worried face. “Ken…Jake…I wanted to get steak with you.”
Jake pressed harder and you could only whimper. “We will go get that steak. It’ll be the best date.” His voice was muffled, like you had shoved your head under water. And you struggled to hear him at all.
“Promise?” You asked, blood on your teeth.
“I promise.”
You smiled, despite it all. And then you were gone.
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Called to Duty 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You’re tired. You’re always tired these days, but you gotta do what you gotta do. That’s going to be your life from now on. Not what you want, but what you need.  
You wait in line at the grocery store. Their in-store sourdough isn’t as good as the bakery but you can’t spare the extra dollars. You have your essentials; chicken, rice, some broth for those days when you can’t quite keep solid food down. Some fruits too for the mornings, and a sneaky pack of cookies. 
The woman behind the counter packs up here bag. She rubs her hip as you swipe your card, as if she can feel your pain. You suppose she has few aches and pains from years of standing behind that till. She hands you your receipt and asks if you need help. It’s two bags, nothing too heavy. You slide them into the rolling bag you dragged down with you and head out. 
You’re almost breathless as you get through the front doors. You get dizzy spells but the doctor says it’s just a dip in your blood pressure. You sit on a bench outside the grocery store and rub your stomach as you wait for it to pass. 
As you close your eyes against the springtime sunlight, a familiar tone nestles behind your ear. The timbre sends a shiver up your spine and your hug your middle out of instinct. You don’t look over as Thor’s rolling baritone wafts through the air. 
You stand and pull your bag in the other direction, as fast as you can. The wheels hit a line in the pavement and twists, the handle falling from your hand. It clatters to the ground and you hurried scramble to pick it back up as an apple rolls close to the top. You squat halfway and lift the handle, glancing over as silence pervades. 
Your eyes meet his and you cringe. You quickly turn away as he pulls the phone away from his ear and tilts his head. You touch your stomach again. Did he notice? Did he care? He hadn’t before. 
“Eh, been a while, kitten,” he purrs after you as his footfalls quickly descend, “where are you off to?” 
You ignore him, turning towards the curb as you look up and down the street. You need to get out of here. He stands beside you and you flinch as he puts his hand on your lower back. 
“Why’re you running away?” He says. 
You scoff, “don’t tell me I’m the one running away.” 
You drop your arm and drag the bag off the curb and across the street, as quickly as you can move yourself. You know he’s following. You know him better than he thinks you do. You turn down towards the pharmacy. 
“You look good. Healthy,” he remarks, “you’ve... filled out.” 
“Get away from me,” you hiss. 
“Don’t be rude. I’m just checking in on you, as any good person should.” 
You stop short and face him defiantly. His cheek dimples and reflects a memory back at you. The day you told him. The day he asked who you thought the father was. The day he shrugged off his responsibility on the back of rumours. 
‘Couldn’t possibly be mine. How could you know for sure? How could anyone?’ 
That grin. That taunting grin. 
“You shouldn’t be worried about being a good person, you should be a good father,” you sneer, a crack in your voice. “And you are neither.” 
He laughs, “you always were dramatic, kitten, but the way you meow for me... I hear the hormones make you wild--” 
He reaches to touch your cheek and you swat him away, “don’t.” 
“One last time, for old time’s sake,” he coaxes. 
“You are so gross,” you snip. 
“You can’t be mad at me because you opened your legs--” 
You push him. Stupidly. You shove him in the stomach with one hand. He barely reacts as you turn and stomp away with your groceries rolling at your heels. 
Your eyes sear hotly as you swallow back the protest. It was only him. There was no other possibility. No one believes. Who knows who she slept with? She was always down at the bar, wasn’t she? 
“I miss those claws, kitten,” he calls after you. 
You grit your teeth and storm towards the brick facade of the pharmacy. You shake as you try to fish out your keys. You let go of the rolling bag in frustrating as you dig down in your purse. The cart falls over again and your keyring jangles out onto the pavement with it. 
You let out a grunt and stand, staring at the catastrophe as the apple rolls out of the bag. You lower your head and steel yourself for the reach. Even at four months, with just a bit of belly, everything is so uncomfortable. 
A thick hand scoops up the keys then the apple. Sy hooks two fingers around the handle of the bag and stands. You look at him, lip quivering, and quickly bat away your tears. You dab your eyes with your knuckles. 
“Here,” he stands the bag up and drop the apple inside, then holds out your keys. 
You sigh, “you.” 
He frowns as you take the keyring, “me? I was only helping--” 
“Yeah, because you feel bad for me. Please,” you shove your keys in the door, “don’t.” 
“Feel bad? No. That’s not why... I... people should help each other. Especially those in need.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I need to close my legs. I need to figure it out,” you huff and pull the bag through the door and shove it through, “thanks. I’m good.” You take a step inside and stop, angling back to him, “you forgot your stuff at the pharmacy. They’re holding it at customer service--” 
“It’s yours--” 
“Stop,” you put a hand up, “okay? Just stop. You can go get your money back then.” 
His thick brows draw together and he grazes his hand over his buzzed hair, “I saw you talking to Thor.” 
You snort, “yeah, I ran into your buddy. So what?” 
He crosses his arms and shifts his stance, his works boots dragging loudly, “you’re mad at him.” 
You close your eyes and suck in a breath, “I don’t want to talk about this, especially with you. Fine, go back to him, tell him how pathetic I am--” 
“Why would I do that?” He sounds genuinely confused. 
“I’m not stupid. You were always down at The Horn together. Whatever this is, I’m not falling for it.” 
He squints then looks past you. Your turn and inch the door towards the frame. He steps forward and slaps a hand against the other side, holding it open. 
“He is not a man or a friend if he’s done this to you,” he says. You arch a brow as his blue eyes meet yours, “you deserve better.” 
He eases the tension in his arm as you lean on the door. He lets it snap shut and you wince at the click. You grasp the latch but don’t turn it as you listen through the wood. The friction of his hand drags down the wood. 
“I will give you better,” you barely make out his mutters as the tread of his boot scrapes on the pavement. You twist the lock and fall back against the wall. What is he doing? It has to be a trick. It has to.
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backwzzds · 10 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ princess & the frog, trafalgar law
law would do anything to make his little princess happy
thinking about baby daddy!law who’s spending the day at home with his precious girl while you went out with your girls for the night. law constantly worked as a medical student while you stayed home with baby lea, but this time you convinced him to take the day off so you can finally go out.
the hot summer july sun practically shoved its heat inside the house as the AC did nearly nothing to keep the atmosphere chilled. law remained shirtless for the morning as baby lea only sat in a cute shirt, diaper freshly changed.
the little girl rested her head of unruly curls on her father’s tatted chest as she sucked on her sippy cup full of porridge (you were caribbean, there was no way your baby wasn’t gonna grow up eating porridge for breakfast) and watching her favorite movie, the princess and the frog. occasionally, she’d used her small tiny finger to trace over the dark skin of law’s ink.
even he sat with his eyes fully invested in the disney movie, and he couldn’t help but think about you and him as parallels to the beautiful story. it was interesting the way your lives played out. you two’ve known each other since teenagers, been through undergrad together and now here you were, engaged and the mother of his child.
it’s a bit…uncanny to say that lea was completely planned—far from it—but you both where only 20 and 22 when she was born, so it was safe to say that she practically lived through college with you both and your group of friends you were proud to call family.
lea sat babbling strings of incoherent phrases, the only words being audible was dada and daddy as she watched her favorite movie. it wasn’t until she caught law’s attention by calling out for him louder with a smile on her face as she turned to look up at him.
“daddy!,” law looked down at her with a small grin as he let out a hum, a sign she learned to understand that he was all hers. “cookie,” lea gave a near toothless grin as she shoved her cookie into her father’s mouth. what law didn’t realize was that the cookie was damn near soft from being soaked in her drool for a few minutes.
usually, if it were anyone else, law would have spit the cookie out and been furious that he just ate a drool filled snack from a sticky fingered kid. but his baby girl was so cute, he had no choice but to eat the cookie whole, and with the biggest grin on his face. lea giggled at his expression before exclaiming, “cookie!”
law looks over at the mini packet of sweets that he mindlessly allowed his princess to devour, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of all the crumbs the bed was littered in. lea crawled up to his face and placed a wet kiss on his lips before shoving another soggy cookie in his mouth. “cookie!”
it was ironic, really. you were more of the softer one when it came to letting your baby girl eat up sugary things with moderation, and law being the doctor always advised against you spoiling her sweet tooth (the one she actually inherited from him but fails to admit it). but he figured that he loved seeing baby lea happy, and if that meant feeding into her sugar crash that was bound to happen later on, he was gonna do it.
with a smug grin, he placed a kiss on lea’s light brown skin and hugged her small body tight to his own. “yeah, mommy’s gonna kill me when she finds out just how much sugar i let you eat today.”
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melissa-kenobi · 4 months
Text
Still Yours
[PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader]
A/N: hola, yes I am writing for Harry :) I love him too he's so adorable. :3 & yes there shall be a pt 2 for my Peter fic :D
Summary: Harry comes back.
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***
"Just got a tip." MJ says as she checks her phone. "Raft's moving a couple of inmates to Ravenscroft tomorrow for evaluation."
"Did they say who?" Peter asks MJ as she walks to the door, grabbing her keys on the way.
"Nope! But I'm gonna find out." MJ smirks, a cheeky grin on her lips.
"Be careful MJ." You call out from the kitchen as she gives you a salute and walks out the door. Peter laughs as he walks up to you and gives you a hip bump, reaching for the jar.
"Hey! Not my cookies!" You say, ready to throw soapy water at him, but not before you hear MJ let out a shriek.
"MJ!" Both you and Peter call as you run out in a frightful shock after her only to see someone you never thought you'd see again.
Harry Osborn.
MJ runs up to him and gives him a big hug, squeezing the life out of him, a huge grin etched on her face. Peter follows after her, watching his best friend with a gentle smile.
"Woah!" Harry laughs, holding himself up with the help of a cane. "Doctor's haven't cleared me for MJ hugs yet!"
"Sorry..." MJ apologises sheepishly as she pulls back.
You watch from the steps as Peter hugs his best friend, taking comfort in the fact that he was here, telling him how much you had all missed him. Harry glances up from Peter's hug to see you standing by the steps, hands and arms still covered in bubbly soap, curly hair tied up, a few strands framing your features and a look of longing etched onto your face.
"Y/N..." Harry faintly whispers your name ever so sweetly as he looks at you. You watch his eyes soften as he pulled away from Peter and took a wobbly step towards you, almost falling, but Peter catches him, helping Harry stand up right. You hold in your tears as you rush back indoors, slamming the door and falling to the floor.
It had been two years. Two excruciatingly long fucking years since he went to Europe without mentioning a single word to you. No calls, no texts, nothing.
You had to find out from MJ, someone you'd barely spoken to in high school had told you. Mary fucking Jane had to tell you that your so-called boyfriend had gone to Europe and that no-one knew when he'd would be back or how to contact him.
You called him every single day, leaving voicemail after voicemail until his phone told you that his messages were full and that you couldn't leave anymore. You called Peter, each week asking if he had heard anything from Harry, but alas nothing. You had cried every night, praying, wishing that he would contact you somehow. That he hadn't just upped and left without good reason.
But no. Nothing.
So you got on with your life.
Got a job as kindergarten teacher, helped Peter with his Spider-Man stuff, became really good friends with MJ and moved on. Because if Harry had moved on, then so could you.
But now he was here. He was outside the door and you didn't know what to do.
***
Moments later Peter ran indoors calling your name, Harry following behind cautiously as he took in the appearance of the house.
"Y/N?? You still here?" Peter calls but can't seem to find you anywhere in the house. "I don't think she's h-
"Pete..." Harry sighs as he finds a handwritten note on the table. He still recognises your handwriting, a hand tracing over the note softly as he reads it. "She's gone."
"What do you mean she's gone?" Peter scoffs as he reads the note you wrote.
Hey Pete and MJ,
I'm sorry, seeing Harry again brought up some things. I need to clear my mind before anything. If you see him, tell him I did miss him and I do want to talk, soon.
Make sure he doesn't come after me, please Pete? And make sure you don't eat my cookies ... I'm talking about you Ms Watson... :)
Love you guys,
Cookie xx
Harry hears the sound of an engine being turned on and rushes to the door to try and catch you before you leave. He calls your name but it falls on empty ears as he watches you ride away on a black motorbike, curly hair blowing in the wind.
"She rides motorbikes now?" Harry says, eyes filled with adoration, but heart heavy with how much he had missed with you.
"Yeah...but she still doesn't let anyone touch it." Pete smiles, reading the bit about making sure MJ doesn't eat your cookies. However it soon turns into a frown as he looks at Harry. "She's changed alot since you left Harry."
"I know Pete. I know." Harry sits down, sighing deeply. "How do I fix this Pete?"
Peter exhales heavily. "I don't know."
***
It was coming up to 2 weeks since you had run from Harry. From everything.
You don't know why you did.
Maybe you were scared. Scared he didn't need you anymore. Maybe he didn't love you anymore.
MJ had messaged you a million times, making sure you were okay, even sending you pictures of her and Peter with your cookie jar, making sure you'd seen she hadn't eaten any of them. Peter, on the other hand, thought he was subtle. He had swung around where you were staying, keeping an eye on you making sure you weren't falling back into old habits.
Cookie 🍪: pete, you know I can see you?
Pete 🕷: whaaaat? im with mj at home
Cookie 🍪: *sends picture attachment*
Pete 🕷: :O
Pete 🕷: sorry cookie, just wanted to make sure you were safe :(
Cookie 🍪: im okay petey :)
Pete 🕷: i know. harry says hi. he misses you. we miss you
Cookie 🍪: I'll be home soon, promise, love you guys x
Pete 🕷: love you too cookie x
You decided to go home after Peter's text.
***
Seconds after pushing the keys in the door, you were tackled in a massive hug from MJ, who squeezed the living hell out of you and would not let go. You'd barely gotten your helmet off before it dropped to the floor.
"MJ! I'm fine, you can let go now!" You mumble against her hair. "Please, my bones are gonna crack and you don't even have super strength..."
"Don't ever do that again. Please?" MJ says as she pulls away holding your face.
"Sorry red, I promise I won't." You say squeezing her hands gently, making her pull a face at your nickname for her. Peter smiles as he sees you, pulling you into a albeit gentler hug.
"You good?" Peter asks as you nod in response, wallking backwards towards the staircase.
"I'm gonna put my stuff away and I'll-
"Hi..." Harry breathes out, walking down the stairs, coming face to face with you. His red hair, a slight mess on his head, a smile askew on his rosy lips while he observed every inch of your face as if you'd disappear again if he said something wrong. You could sense those feelings you'd buried deep for him wanting to resurface. No, needing to resurface. A red curl had fallen onto his forehead and you instantly to brush it away.
You weren't ready, but it was now or never.
"Hi." You mumble back, suddenly shy as you avoided looking at him. Because if you did, you were sure it was going to break your heart again.
"We'll leave you two to talk..." Peter says, squeezing your hand in comfort, before heading upstairs with MJ. "Hear him out, Cookie..."
You nod back at Pete and MJ, giving them a smile.
"Hi...I er- sorry I already said that..." Harry says shy, stuttering over his words making you let out a small laugh.
He hadn't changed.
His head lifts up, eager to hear your sweet laughter again, "So you and Pete?" Harry says as he smiles softly at you.
"What? No! No way- he's with MJ!" Your eyes go wide before realising he was teasing you. "You're teasing me..."
He hold his hand up in surrender as a soft smile appears on his lips, as he tilts his head, eyes filled with a gentle longing. You couldn't help but notice how much it suited him, how much he had matured. He was still the same Harry you knew, but his features had grown. He no longer had that beanie he always wore, his eyes were brighter than before, filled with hope.
Harry seemed to notice the look on your face and sighed, "I'm sorry, I am so sorry- about everything. Can- can I explain?"
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Let's sit down."
You walk over to the couch and take a seat, Harry following suit, sitting closer than you expected.
"Sorry.." He instantly apologised, shuffling back. You don't know what made you put your hand on his leg, making him freeze as he instinctively went to hold your hand.
"I didn't- sorry..." You mutter, looking down, feeling like a shy teen all over again.
Harry lets out a small laugh, squeezing your hand and rubbing the top of it with his thumb. "Reminds me of our 3rd date at Coney-
"When the stupid candy guy pushed me into you and-
"I caught you, but your face was a red as a tomato, and you wouldn't look at me for the rest of our date till I-
"Till you kissed me..." You finish off blushing as you looked up at Harry. Gosh, you really did miss him. "What happened Harry?"
His lips turn into a grimace, eyes still on you. "Europe was a lie. I was in the city in isolation undergoing treatment. I didn't want you guys to worry. I didn't want you to worry..."
"Harry..." You mutter softly, gently playing with his fingers. "I wish you would have told me, so you wouldn't have had to go through it alone."
"No. It was my choice and I had to live with that. I couldn't put you through that pain." Harry sighs, looking at your entwined fingers, his heart aching. "I saw what my father went through when my mom passed, and I- I didn't want the same to happen to you."
"Is it the same thing your mom had?" You asked, looking at him, tears in your eyes.
"It was..." He smiles as you glance up at him. "We think it's in remission."
You gasp in joy and pull him into a hug. "Really? That's wonderful news!"
Harry feels his heart pound as you hug him- he's missed this. "I- I missed you, more than anything. I'm so sorry for the way I left things, for what I put you through, even though I was trying to protect you. I hurt you even more. I listened to all your voicemails every single one, and then one day they just stopped. I thought-"
Pulling back slightly from him you stare at him. "You thought what? That I'd moved on?"
He nods.
"Harry... how could I? You are the love of my life, I never stopped loving you, even when I was so frustrated and angry with you." You admit, because you truly never stopped loving him. "But I understand, I understand you trying to protect us. To protect me."
"I- thank you." Harry sighs in relief, he hated having this feeling of you being angry and disappointed hanging over him. "I- you still love me?"
You bite your lip and look down, feeling shy all of a sudden, Harry puts a finger on your chin and tilts your head up. "I still love you too. I never stopped, all I could think about was you."
"Harry..." Tears slowly fill the corners of your eyes before you wipe them away.
"Can we start over?" Harry asks sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me? Coney Island?"
You smirk at him, "Are you going to try and kiss me again?"
"Are you going to turn red again?" Harry teases back.
"I did not! It was cold!" You lightly shove him, but he catches your arms and pulls you into him. Harry places a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he holds you in his arms snugly.
"Is that a yes Cookie?" Harry softly asks, absentmindedly rubbing your hip.
*thump* *thump* *thump*
The two of you jump up only to see MJ and Peter roll down the stairs, Peter trying to help MJ but ending up on the floor, MJ on top of him as she looks up at you with a huge grin on her face.
"Say yes, you doofus!" MJ laughs, and Peter is nodding enthusiastically like a golden retriever.
You throw a pillow in their direction before rolling your eyes at their antics. You can't stop the smile on your face as you pull Harry into a kiss and whisper yes.
***
"Hey, how comes you never let me on your bike? And you never let me eat your cookies!" Peter asks with a fake sad face as he reaches to touch it. But before he can, you lightly slap his hand away.
"You're Spider-Man. You don't need a bike." You deadpan.
"Besides, Harry's my fiance now. So what's mine is his." You smirk as you settle onto your bike, Harry slipping on behind as he wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a kiss on your cheek. "Including my cookies."
"See ya Pete!" Harry childishly sticks his tongue out at Peter as you ride away laughing.
"MJ, you gotta learn how to ride a bike..." Peter mumbles to himself.
***
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f10werfae · 2 years
Text
How Much Is Too Much?
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Pairing:Husband!Henry Cavill x Doctor!Reader
Summary: Fans retell the best parts of the relationship
Warnings: none
- Requests are open!
Likes, Comments And Re-Blogs are appreciated
masterlist✨
Henry Cavill Masterlist 💫
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
@/loverbunny: Does anyone remember that one Henry Cavill interview where he just kept bringing up Y/n? It’s so cute how his eye twinkles whenever her name’s mentioned and he’s also so proud of her and her career. Saying quote on quote, “i’m proud to be her man”
@/jessicashaw: I had to take my little sister to an appointment to the local hospital and she was literally treated by Dr. Y/n L/n, apparently she was there to cover a random shift? Idk but she was so nice and helpful😭 After the check up she gave my sister SUPERMAN STICKERS?!
@/Ghostedfortoast: I was at the background shoot for one of Henry Cavill's movies and I heard him talking about how his wife was opening a free walk in clinic for the homeless, and I swear I saw that man's heart get a boner
@/thereallife: I saw Cavill at an award show, and I kid you not mid award show, he saw his wife was arriving outside the venue. This man walked back outside and accompanied her in through the red carpet, and since all the photographers had left. HE WAS KNEELING JUST TO GET HER ANGLES RIGHT WHEN TAKING HER PICS
@/beesnothoney: Nah because in Henry's new interview, actually lemme just quote this man, “My wife is so amazing, she was actually my medic on set, so I was around her all the time. It was brilliant, I loved it” AND THEN HIS CO STAR WAS COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW MUCH NOISE WOULD BE COMING FROM HENRY'S TRAILER KILLS ME.
@/leavemealone: I work in Pull&Bear and I saw Henry and Y/n walk in at around 7pm i’m guessing after her work because she was in scrubs. I think she was trying to buy the new winter jacket we had but the poor girl looked exhausted. Henry had to put it on her and zipped it all the way so it covered her head, AND HE UNZIPPED IT JUST ENOUGH TO KISS HER THEN THEY FOUGHT OVER WHO WOULD PAY UNTIL HE SNEAKILY PASSED ME HIS CARD
@/1990firefly: Henry Cavill came into the build a bear I work and got a dog stuffy and dressed it like a doctor. But here’s the best part. IN AN INTERVIEW Y/N REVEALED HE CALLS HER 'PUP' 😭😭. ➥@/pandalove: I HEARD HE CARRIES THAT BEAR WHEN HE TRAVELS ABROAD WITHOUT HERR🥹
@/jumpinglacks: My mum once worked a shift with Y/n L/n, and said her husband (Hen obvs) came during their break to bring her out for lunch. I hate being single.
@/tiredturtleegg: I saw the Cavill couple out in town yesterday, kid you not he was feeding her the spaghetti and anytime she’d reach for her fork he’d slap it away 🥲
@/denisethemenace: Anyone remember when Y/n L/n first revealed she was pregnant, and the reason she found out was because Cavill realised her tits had grown bigger. This man never fails to surprise me ➥ @/livingfreedead: DONT FORGET HE SAID HE WAS JUST DOING HIS REGULAR TOUCH UP OMG😭‼️
@/greekathenanice: Y/n just said in her 73 questions video that whenever their son can’t sleep, he reads her anatomy books and tries to teach Henry things about the body. This kid is like 4. How.
@/floralflower: Whenever you think about settling for less. Remember that when Y/n was pregnant Henry literally sewed her scrubs that would fit her then drove her to and from work☝️
@/letmeliveplease: Henry Cavill gushing over his wife’s maternity photos during a Buzzfeed interview, is everything. That man started tearing up because he loves her so much, NO MAN COULD EVER COMPARE
@/treatsweet: Henry revealing that Y/n only likes to bathe with him now is so cute, apparently it’s because that’s the only time the baby decides to kick and be active
@/HenryCavill: Y/n refuses to talk to me because I forgot to buy her cookie dough ice cream on the way home. This is my public apology. I’m sorry pup, please let me back into the bedroom, I want a hug. ➥@/DrY/nL/N-Cavill: Yeah okay. Your son (and I) Misses you. Love you♥️
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