#if one more person talks to me about a task that needs to get done I’m going to smash all the gifts under the tree for fucks sake

[main-character-moment]

My mam said we have to clean the house today (told us yesterday) and that we would start at 12. She immediately proceeded to go out at 12 and said we’d clean the moment we got back. She gets back and now there’s lunch to be made. By the time we get started we’re nearly 2 hours late and the energy and allocated time I had for all my tasks is gone. I will get none of the art I need to get done done today.

#I wanna smash my head into a wall #if one more person talks to me about a task that needs to get done I’m going to smash all the gifts under the tree for fucks sake #I’ve needed to get this art done for weeks (Christmas presents plus relevant for my portfolio) and every weekend when I’m supposed to have #time someone comes up to me saying ‘hey I need you to do this. now.’ and throw a fit when I say I’m busy. #this also ties into the fact that I’m in full time education but everyone was pushing me to do art as a career (I don’t want to but I can #still take it up as a side thing which is what I’m trying to do) and then everyone gets upset at me when I prioritise art for my spare time. #there are 4 people living in this house. 2 I’m full time education (1 with exams and the other (me) preparing for college and a future) #1 is our parent who is working and looking after us to the best of her ability #and the other is my lazy ass brother who works maybe once a week if we’re lucky and refuses to keep a job. he just sits in his room playing #on his computer all fucking day. he’s filling out papers for the dole right now because he needs money and refuses to work

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

#actually autistic #autistic #long post #autism

[capricores]

if you have strong mutable (gemini, sagittarius, pisces, virgo) placements then you NEED to write things down if you don't already. all those thoughts that constantly swirl in your head: the frequent tasks, goals, feelings, aspirations, opinions, etc - WRITE THEM DOWN. this is not only therapeutic & stress-relieving for you but almost necessary, or you're going to burn out and overload your own mind constantly.

when you bottle, or when you let plans, goals, dreams, to-do lists, projects, etc live solely in your head - you'll notice you can't sleep as well, it's harder to rest, your memory gets more foggy than usual, you feel burnt out and unable to connect, etc. specifically:

write down your feelings. this will be your ultimate (free) therapy. start to journal, write a diary. make a private twitter/tumblr where you spill your feelings, frustrations, thoughts. you will feel an immense sense of relief by writing or typing your feelings out - even if no one is reading it but you. mutable moons especially. our feelings tend to change rapidly, but it doesn't make them less valid. don't bottle out of the fear your feelings will change/you'll just "get over it"!! write it down and let it out!!

write! to-do! lists!!!!! these don't have to be for important things. you want to learn digital art? you want to study coding? you want to learn french? you want to re-decorate? you probably have a billion things you want to do, and then you get overwhelmed by the options, and do nothing. write down all the things you want to do. make a to-do list for these things. get them out of your head and somewhere permanent/physical. looking at the options in front of you will feel much easier.

make excel project trackers (you can even make these for to-do list items/goals/etc)! mutable placements have a tendency to start a lot of projects or tasks, and never finish any of them. make a simple tracker for all the projects you start. you won't forget what you're working on, and you'll be less overwhelmed trying to remember what you have going on (example of the one i always use pictured below)

talking out your thoughts and feelings is also very cathartic. make fake (or real, i support u!) youtube vlogs where you spill your feelings and talk about your plans, your day, what you have to do, etc. talk to someone you love and trust, vent to them about how things are; or about what you're getting up to. i find writing has an edge, because you can go back to it for reference (mutables tend to forget things easily) - but as long as you're getting the swirl of your mind somewhere outside of your head, you'll feel so, so much less stressed.

mutable dominants tend to constantly live in go-mode, we're restless and always doing something. we feel uncomfortable and sometimes guilty about staying still. our minds don't ever shut off. it's very important for mutable placements to learn how to rest, be present in the moment, and learn grounding. this can be done in many ways, but i've found personally that writing works best for me. other helpful practices can be: talk therapy, acceptance theory, yoga, meditation, hiking, camping, etc.

i also want to remind mutable signs: we change a lot. we have a lot of ideas. there's so much we want to do. we often feel like we have no path, no big goal; we can struggle with purpose as we don't often aspire for permanent things or "one big goal". this is NOT bad. there is nothing wrong with changing your feelings, your mind, your goals, your life path. you CAN do all the things you want to do! you have your entire life ahead of you! yes, you can learn all those languages. yes, you can have three different careers in your life. yes yes yes! don't listen to negativity from others. don't beat yourself up for not having one big goal like some people around you might. cherish and embrace all the things you want to achieve and complete (both big and small). learn to follow-through with and finish the things that matter to you (writing things down will really help with this, make action plans/steps - break everything down into smaller pieces). take the time to slow down and enjoy the moments as they come. you got this!

#like PLSSSS it is so important you all NEED to write/type your thoughts and feelings #talking abt them will make u feel amazing but writing them out will get them out of your brain #astrology #mutable #luna.txt #i love u mutables <3 #this post was so scattered and random and all over the place in true mutable fashion #but im not editing it because this is for the mutables anyway and yall will get my scattered-ness #mine

[helianthus-tarot]

FUTURE SPOUSE: First event that will bring you two together

This can also apply to serious/long-term partners. There's info about your first meeting since we are talking about the first event here. I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes the first thing(s) that will connect you two a.k.a what you guys will bond over 🫢❤️

Disclaimer: Here | Instagram: Here

Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!

Like my readings? Tip here!

PILE 1

First event(s) that will bring you guys together: King of Swords, The Fool Rx, Knight of Wands. Queen of Pentacles, The High Priestess Rx (them). 10 of Swords, Knight of Pentacles (you). Growth.

It may be related to an exchange of ideas, or communicating ideas, especially solutions that lead to some type of breakthrough, progress, forward movement or growth. You will be taking the position of someone who is stressed out and exhausted, maybe you’ll have been dealing with a problem by the time you meet them. This problem could be about how to do something, how to progress, how to get a specific thing done. Some of you will have started something (e.g. a personal project), but then you encounter an obstacle (you won’t quite know how to progress). For others of you, the Universe itself will have started something for you (pushing you to start/end a stage of life, putting a certain event in your life) and you may find it very stressful to deal with. You will need support and I think your person will help you.

Your person will be taking the position of someone who has the necessary resources in this situation. The situation or the problem will be something they are familiar with or know how to deal with, it may be something within their domain. They could specialise in making things clearer, more practical, more in accordance with how things should be done or how things are usually done. You’ll have been having a lot of thoughts about this problem, it could also be an ‘analysis paralysis’ type of situation for some of you, you will be at your limit. They will help you using their resources, and this isn’t ‘words of encouragement’ kind of help, it feels more practical, organised and hands-on.

Your person could be a white-collar professional (private or government), a doctor, a consultant, a legal counsel, or a professor, academic advisor, an instructor; basically a person with authority and knowledge on what to do in that situation. For some of you, this meeting will be something that is planned by both of you. For example, you guys will plan to meet and discuss the problem; them being someone who can help plan solutions for you and you being someone who seeks a way out of your problem. You may not know each other’s names before the meeting, but you guys will expect the meeting itself. For others of you, the meeting will be unplanned, i.e. meeting each other at the right place, at the right time; you’ll be needing some help and they will be able to help.

The meeting itself may involve some travel. For some of you, it feels more like road travel, e.g. you having to go somewhere specific to meet them. But again, this is pretty normal. For others of you, this could be a situation that involves actual travelling or a trip; i.e. you want to travel somewhere but you are stuck at that place for whatever reason, and you have to talk with your person to solve the problem. This ‘discussion’ could happen in a building; like a company or a government branch, especially if this meeting is intentional. For many of you, it will be a one-to-one meeting. Your person will be taking the energies of all the court cards here, especially if they are the masculine, they may be accommodating (slightly warm, not totally cold) but very focused on their tasks. For others of you, this could involve multiple people, so for example, you could be discussing with other people (e.g. their coworkers) when your person walks into the room. It feels like you guys will be talking about strategies and plans. It may be quick, but there will be a clear direction being taken in this meeting.

The meeting may happen when the sky is cloudy, seemingly about to rain. For some of you, the meeting will happen again with the same purpose (to solve the problem, to help you), but every time it happens, it will be straight to the task and focused on the agenda. The meeting(s) may also feel empowering, maybe because you will need that solution/direction, or that support. For some of you, it may happen in the summer, for others of you it may happen in the winter.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! The first thing(s) that will connect you two! 🫢❤️ Will you guys bond over difficult experiences? Trust issues? Similar hobbies? Career success? And how will it happen? Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 2

First event(s) that will bring you guys together: King of Cups, 2 of Pentacles, 10 of Cups. Temperance, 7 of Swords (them). Strength, Queen of Cups, Page of Pentacles (you). Determination.

You guys will probably meet in a social gathering / event. I think it will be a personal event where people get together to connect with one another, to mingle, relax and have fun (instead of a business or career-related event). It feels more like a family gathering, or an event held by someone you know / are close to. There is a baby in one of the cards, so it could be a baby shower, a birthday or a wedding. I’m not sure how your person will end up attending the same event though, maybe it’s a ‘friend to a friend to a friend’ situation lol.

For some of you, this may also be something new for you. Attending this kind of event may not be your thing; you haven’t done it much or maybe you don’t socialise often, but you’ll choose to teach yourself to do it (and get used to it). It feels a little like ‘stepping out of your comfort zone’ kind of activity for you personally, with a focus on growth or self-improvement. For example, if it’s your coworker’s event, you could choose to attend because you want to nurture that relationship and learn to be more open.

What will bring you two together is you guys’ own effort to connect with each other. Both of you will be feeling quite open that day. They could have a romantic interest in you right away, but their energy here is more focused on investigating (you), being wise about this, and taking it easy. Perhaps they’ll do this to make sure they don’t get themself into a problematic situation, and to make sure they can trust that you are indeed who you show yourself to be. They could be watching you first; how you interact with people or how you act in that environment, before approaching. Your person will have the intention to get something more out of your interaction with each other, but at the same time they won’t approach this with a very desperate or hopeful energy either, they won’t force the connection to happen, they will be patient and mature about it. For some of you, they may try to hide their intention from other people, so other people may not know about you two keeping in touch with each other after the event.

You could bring something to the event; like a gift, or food, or money to be given. Some of you will also help your friend/etc make their event smoother, for example, helping them arrange the gifts or helping the other guests (you’ll just want to help). When your person approaches you (I think they will, especially if they are the masculine), you will be romantically interested in them but at the same time you will be pretty relaxed about it. You won’t be getting ahead of yourself or immediately getting emotionally invested in the connection. You will be feeling very secure in yourself, very in your heart space, emotionally mature and stable. Honestly, instead of desperate or clingy,this whole meeting / interaction feels measured and chill (your person’s energy feels slightly cautious tho). You guys will talk about the event, the people, why you guys are there or how you are related to the event organiser, things that will be happening at that time, etc. There will be multiple things that happen in the event, both of you may be sitting and watching those things happen, and just talking with each other. I forgot what it’s called, but usually there’s a brochure given to guests detailing when / at what time a certain activity will happen.

The sky will be very clear and bright that day. This could be an outdoor event / gathering. Near a body of water for some of you, like the beach, a lake, or simply a water fountain. There will be food, or a lot of growth / trees / flowers around you. If it happens on a private property, the owner could have a pet, maybe a cat. It could happen in the spring or summer. A little warm, but not to the point of making you two feel uncomfortable and sweaty.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! The first thing(s) that will connect you two! 🫢❤️ Will you guys bond over difficult experiences? Trust issues? Similar hobbies? Career success? And how will it happen? Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 3

First event(s) that will bring you guys together: 3 of Cups, 6 of Wands, The Hermit (Queen of Pentacles). Justice, 3 of Swords (them). 8 of Cups, Page of Cups (you). Determination.

Similar to the previous pile, the meeting will happen when you both are out and socialising. This one feels more like a hangout place though; e.g. eating at a restaurant with your friend group, going to the club, dancing and karaoke, or laughing and talking merrily with one another. For some of you, you could be alone (instead of with your friends), just going out and having fun on your own. You will be celebrating some kind of success that you and/or your group have gained.

For example, it could be a celebration that you have after a big examination, or after the end of a tedious and long interview process (some big companies make candidates take more than 5 interviews to get a job), etc. You will have been quite focused on it, whatever it is, and this has made you quite solitary (i.e. cooped up in one place doing the same thing), so you celebrate by going out. For a few of you, this could also be a gathering to celebrate the success of a work project; a group dinner with coworkers after the completion of a project, but the vibe may be quite casual or at least business casual.

Your person could be one of the people in the group. You guys may have known each other before this event, but this will be the first event where you two can properly connect or talk with each other. For others of you, they could be a stranger, i.e. a patron or customer there. Your person will have a very straightforward way of communicating, no frills, they may not use many filler words when they talk. They will also be very honest about their intention and/or what they are looking for at that time, on that day. They won’t have any romantic intentions, to be honest. For some of you, your person could also talk about their past disappointment in romance. For others of you, they will be honest about not wanting to pursue anything romantic with you (or anyone else), and they could say it’s because they have just gotten out of a relationship, or they aren’t in the right place for that, or it will be hard for you two to make it work. If you guys keep in touch with each other after the event, it may be for other purposes, like sex or other things.

Many of you will be attracted to them, romantically. You’ll be curious about exploring this connection. But after the event, you will feel like it’s a lost cause (impossible to happen), maybe because of what they tell you. However, some of you will still have sex with this person after, just without much hope that it goes anywhere. Your person could be the masculine in this connection, if not, just swap the roles. Apart from those of you who will have sex with your person, I don’t think anything much will come out of this meeting. So I asked how this whole connection would progress. You got The Emperor, 5 of Cups and 10 of Swords. I think for many of you, your person will eventually regret their decision. For another group of you, your person will have to deal with their issues first before anything can start between you two. I guess this event came up in this reading simply because it’s either your first meeting with each other, or first time having a revealing conversation with each other (e.g. a conversation about yourselves and what you two are looking for).

The cards are pretty bright so if it happens at night, it will be somewhere with a lot of lights, if it’s during the day it may happen late afternoon, 5PM - 7PM kind of vibe and could be somewhere outdoors; for example, if it’s at a restaurant, it will be on the patio or outdoor dining area. During the rainy season (especially those of you who don’t experience four seasons), or in the summer.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! The first thing(s) that will connect you two! 🫢❤️ Will you guys bond over difficult experiences? Trust issues? Similar hobbies? Career success? And how will it happen? Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 4

First event(s) that will bring you guys together: 8 of Cups, The Tower Rx (Knight of Pentacles), Ace of Cups. 6 of Swords Rx, 10 of Wands, 6 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles (you). Judgment Rx, 5 of Swords (them).

You guys got reversed cards that feel a bit odd to me, for some reason, so I think both of you will not realise this meeting for what it is, you may not think you are dealing with your future spouse here and them you. There are two main subgroups in this pile.

For the first group of you; you and your person will be caught up in your own things when this meeting happens, so this could be an accidental meeting. You may not be in a good place (mentally and emotionally) when you guys meet, but you will have the desire to get better. The physical aspect of the meeting isn’t very clear unfortunately, so I can’t say if this will be at a restaurant or a government building etc like I could in previous piles. For some of you, it will be a place you go to when you aren’t feeling well emotionally, when you want to have some time to yourself to accept your unpleasant reality (at that time), like going to a pub / club, drinking and thinking about your fate, or sitting on a wooden bench in the park lamenting your situation, or something bigger like taking a trip somewhere to help you run / move on from whatever pain you will be dealing with at that time. For example, finding out your partner (not your future spouse) is betraying you and you taking some time away to process the pain, before going back home to address that situation and initiate a break up. You could meet your future spouse on that trip.

This could also happen online for some of you; you will end up talking with your person or seeking comfort from them, they could be a stranger online, or someone you aren’t close to online. And if this is the case, the contact will happen several times. Regardless of where you’ll ‘meet’ each other (physically or online), since you will be dealing with a problem at that time, your person may feel like they have to hold themself back from saying what they truly think about your situation. For some of you in this group, your interaction with each other could make things worse, since the timing or the situation isn’t appropriate. For example, you may be in a relationship with another person at that time, or you will have a lot of things on your plate to deal with (or your person will, but I feel like it’s you who will be dealing with something in your life here). If they develop a crush on you, they may think it’s inappropriate for them to confess. So for this group, I think you guys will part ways at some point for a while.

For another group of you, just a few of you, the meeting itself is shrouded in that vibe. Maybe an accident will happen that involves you two (like, a car accident), but you guys will just want to move on from it and be emotionally mature, instead of blowing things out of proportion by having a row right then and there. You both will decide to think positively about each other, despite the negativity surrounding the meeting. You will focus on what you can do in that situation (e.g. you could offer to pay for the damage), they will focus on holding themself back from saying things they would regret or things that could offend you. You guys will keep in touch with each other from that point onwards, at first you will kinda have to do so, in order to solve the problem between you two.

Anyway regardless of what event it will be exactly, since it’ll be slightly different for everyone, the core of the message here is that you both will want to move on from something that will have happened and will not want to stay in a situation that can get worse (or not wanting to make the situation worse than it already is). This first contact / conversation could happen at night, or dusk, or when the sky is dark. I’m not seeing rain though. It could happen when it’s a bit cold. Late summer or autumn. I’m not getting anymore than this, let me know if the cards make you think of anything else, the energy is kinda confusing. I wonder if a lot of you (or your person) are water signs or have water influence.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! The first thing(s) that will connect you two! 🫢❤️ Will you guys bond over difficult experiences? Trust issues? Similar hobbies? Career success? And how will it happen? Find out here! 👀📝

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #future spouse #tarot readers #tarot community #divination #pick a picture #free tarot readings #pick an image #love tarot readings #free tarot #pac #future spouse tarot #love tarot

[togrowoldinv]

The Bodyguard

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: I have finally written an installment of this au I’ve been thinking about. Let me know what y’all think! Enjoy!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff is great at her job. In fact, she is so good that she has been in high demand in the bodyguard industry for years. She is tough, but her clients have nothing but good things to say about her.

Nat recently finished an assignment, and she is available. Your agent jumped on the opportunity to hire her to protect you. As an up-and-coming actress, you need a highly skilled security team. And you’re not exactly the easiest person to protect. You like to ditch your security whenever you can.

When she arrives at work, Natasha waits in her boss’s office to get her assignment. Fury walks in the door with a grin on his face. That’s never good, Nat thinks.

“How bad is it?” Nat asks.

Fury chuckles. “Have you heard of Y/n y/l/n?”

“The actress?”

“That’s the one,” Fury says. “Three movies in one year that reached number one at the box office.”

“And I bet she’s a pain in the ass,” Natasha says dryly. She crosses her arms. “You just told me that I was done covering actors.”

“Plans change, Romanoff. You’ll be meeting Miss y/l/n tomorrow at her New York penthouse.”

“Great,” Nat says sarcastically. “Next time I get to choose the job.”

“In your dreams,” Fury quips back.

Nat leaves his office and passes Carol and Valkyrie in the common area of the office. The two look suspicious as they straighten their clothes, but Nat is focused on finding out more about you.

“New assignment?” Valkyrie asks Nat.

“Yeah, an actress. Just my luck.”

“So, you got the Y/n y/l/n job? Impressive,” Carol says.

“Tell me that when the assignment is over,” Natasha replies. She walks to the door but stops short to turn around and say one last word to the woman. “Hey, we all know about you two by the way. It’s nice.”

Nat smirks and leaves the office. She spends the rest of the day googling you and trying to find out everything she can. Your portfolio is impressive, she must admit.

The next morning, Natasha wakes up early and goes for a run before getting ready to meet you. She wears a black suit and her beautiful red hair in a braid. The drive to your penthouse doesn’t take long.

You’re still in your pajamas when she arrives, but your assistant lets her in anyway. She takes a look around for a quick security check while she waits for you to emerge from your bedroom.

“Miss y/l/n, your new bodyguard is here,” your assistant, Kate, says.

Natasha comes into your view and your words catch in your throat. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful woman.

 “Oh, hi,” you say to her.

“Hello, Miss y/l/n,” she speaks, and your heart flutters. She holds out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Agent Romanoff.”

“Call me y/n,” you say as you shake her hand.

“I’d prefer to keep it professional, Miss y/l/n,” she says, trying to ignore that she finds you attractive.

“Right, okay.”

“I have a few rules,” Agent Romanoff begins. “Don’t try to lose me anywhere. It won’t work. Listen to me when I am trying to get you out of a situation or avoiding it all together.”

She pauses when you get out your phone to check a message. You reply and she waits to speak again.

“That was two rules,” you say. “Not a few.”

“Well, I assumed you stopped listening, so I stopped talking,” Nat says.

“I was listening.”

“Sure.”

“Tell me the last rule,” you say.

“That will have to wait,” your assistant interrupts you. “The car is here to take you to the photoshoot.”

Natasha turns to her, “I’ll need information about anyone who drives Miss y/l/n, and you’ll need to include me on all itineraries from this point on.”

“Okay,” Kate replies.

“Thank you.”

You grab your jacket and purse before heading down to the car that’s waiting outside. Nat follows you closely. There are a few fans waiting but nothing compared to some days. You get inside the car, and she sits in the seat next to you.

She buckles up and waits for you expectantly to do the same. The car is in motion before you do it, so takes it upon herself to reach over you and grab the belt.

“What are you doing?!” You ask her.

“You’re not invincible,” Nat says while clicking your belt into place.

You groan in annoyance, but you do feel warm at the thought of someone caring enough for you to make sure you are buckled. You really need to surround yourself with better people.

At the photoshoot, Nat stands guard. She stays out of the way but keeps an eye on you. She doesn’t mind watching you wear beautiful clothes and pose in appealing ways. The whole thing kind of turns her on.

The first few weeks of her employment goes like this. You attend events, parties, and photoshoots. You don’t give Nat any trouble. That is until the night of your birthday party.

The first part of the night went fine. So many people showed up that you didn’t even know them all, but that’s the industry for you. You are sitting at a table and flirting with one of your new colleagues when things take a turn for the worst.

“How about we find somewhere more private?” He leans in and asks you.

“Maybe another time,” you say. You like him just fine, but you really don’t want to leave the party yet. 

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun.”

“Not tonight,” you reply.

You glance towards Nat who is across the room. She catches your eyes and walks closer to you, keeping her distance but ready to help if you need her.

“Y/n, let’s go,” the man says, taking your hand and trying to pull you up.

“No,” you say firmly.

“She said no,” your actress friend that you’re closest to, Wanda, jumps in.

“Come on,” he still won’t relent. His grip is tightening on your arm. It hurts. He leans closer to your lips. “Let’s just-”

“Hands off of her,” he is interrupted by Natasha getting in his face. She pushes his chest to get him off of you. He releases your arm, but doesn’t back down from Nat.

“What are you going to do about it?” He attempts to taunt her.

“Leave,” Nat says. “Or I’ll put you through that wall.”

“So dramatic,” he says. But he backs away and heads towards the door.

Once he is out of sight, Natasha turns back to you. Wanda and a few others are trying to protect you, but you only want comfort from one person. You practically jump into her arms as you try to hide your tears from anyone else. Nat hugs you back, but with hesitance.

She feels safe and warm as you let yourself go in her arms. Her black leather jacket collects your tears. She walks with you in her arms away from the crowd.

“Are you alright?” She asks, real concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t look it. Nat walks you to your car and inside the vehicle.

You look out the window and try to hold back your tears.

“Let me see your arm,” Nat says after a few minutes.

You hold it out for her to examine. She doesn’t see any injuries. Her touch is featherlight as she rubs her hands over the aching muscles.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again,” she says.

“Thanks, Agent Romanoff,” you reply.

“You can call me Natasha,” she says.

“I love that name,” you tell her. She smirks.

“I’ll step in sooner next time, okay?”

“Okay. Maybe we need a code word or something,” you suggest.

“Like spies,” Nat jokes. You crack a smile, and she feels better about your state. “Let’s see. You can switch your drink from one hand to another.”

“We’ll workshop it, Natasha,” you say.

Nat nods. When you arrive at home, Nat helps you inside. She typically leaves you for the night, but you ask her to stay. Natasha sleeps on the couch.

When you wake in the morning, you find her sitting upright and ready to work. You sigh, thinking about the events from last night.

“What is it? Am I just not pretty?” You ask Natasha as you throw yourself onto the couch next to her.

“You know I can’t answer that and be professional,” Natasha replies.

She tries not to smirk at the way you dramatically sat down. She is slowly opening up to the idea of enjoying being around you as more than just her client.

“But you could just tell me because it seems that no one wants to date me,” you say.

“Y/n,” Natasha warns. “Trust me you are not the problem. I know for a fact people tell you that you are pretty all the time. Those assholes that go after you say it. You wouldn’t be a successful actress if you weren’t pretty.”

“Maybe, but I really don’t feel pretty.”

You sit up straighter and wait for Natasha’s response.

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Natasha says sincerely.

“Really?”

“Really. Inside and out,” she says.

“I don’t know about that,” you reply despondently.

“I know. Look I haven’t known you but a few weeks, but I know that you’re a good person, y/n. And that makes you more beautiful than a million other people in the same position that you’re in,” Natasha explains.

There is no hesitation in her voice. It is nothing but the truth.

You feel yourself leaning in closer to her, but she moves away breaking the closeness. You try not to frown.

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

To be continued…

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #bodyguard!natasha #actress!reader

[empresskylo]

ghost seemed to despise you, making a mission you have to do together much tenser than it ever had to be...

a/n: i feel like this isn't great but i had fun writing it. idk.

cw: none i guess

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlist

The cold wind blew through your hair making you tighten your coat around your torso. You rolled your eyes as you walked silently beside Ghost. Of course, he wasn’t talking to you. But he was being more quiet than usual. 

You were new and had managed to get him to speak to you the first few weeks, basic training, and small banter as you talked to the task force on the comms. You thought he even liked you at that point. The way he would gaze at you gave you goosebumps. 

Then suddenly, Ghost began to ignore you. You knew you were not skilled physically. You weren’t really ‘one of the guys’. You were their tech nerd who had been trained to work in intensive situations. You felt like a black sheep among wolves. 

Maybe that’s why Ghost didn’t like you very much. You were just extra weight. You couldn’t always protect yourself the way the others could. You often put the men at risk when they would shield you from danger you couldn’t fight off yourself.��

Soap had to remind you that you were crucial to the team. You were the only one with engineering abilities—and pretty impressive ones at that. But still, it seemed like Ghost was repulsed by you and your helplessness. He made sure you weren’t on his team during missions. He’d look the other way when you’d catch his eye in the halls. He’d yell at you when you fell behind. He’d glare at you while you trained. He’d contest your appearance on more dangerous missions. It was tiring watching him act normal—whatever that means—around everyone else. 

You muttered a few things to Ghost, trying to get him to talk, awkwardly fumbling your words. As usual, he didn’t acknowledge you. 

“Well, this is fun. I just love talking to myself,” you groaned as you matched Ghost’s strides. It was just his luck that this mission required Ghost’s stealth and strength, and your tech skills. He would have put up a fight, but he knew you were the only one with the right skills for the job and he wasn’t about to compromise an important mission just to avoid you. 

Ghost side-eyed you, huffing in response to your whines. “You always this whiney?”

“Actually, I can get a lot worse.” 

“For God’s sake,” he muttered.

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “…Sir,” you added in at the end, remembering just who you were grumbling unpleasantries to. 

Ghost’s fist clenched, his breath deepening. “Wasn’t my bloody idea to take you on this mission with me. Trust me, I would have much preferred you stayed back.”

You shook your head. You were over it. “I’m not that bad, you know.” You peered up at him. He kept his head forward, scanning his surroundings as he walked. “The other guys like me.” You felt like a child as you kicked the dirt as you walked. You weren’t the type of person who needed everyone to like them, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt you to see Ghost joking and being friendly with the others. Why did he hate you so damn much? 

You walked the rest of the way in silence. 

Night approached and you weren’t even close to where you were supposed to be—likely your fault for slowing Ghost down. “Can’t we just stop and rest a bit?”

“We got to get this mission done already,” he breathed, the way you were dragging him behind was giving him a headache. 

“Yes, I know. But it’s not really a time-sensitive mission…” you pleaded annoyingly. 

“I want to get back to base,” he said sternly, his head snapping in your direction to solidify his words. 

You followed behind him as he weaved through an abandoned building, his gun raised and ready. 

“I can’t really be that insufferable, right? I mean you like Soap just fine, and he’s loads more annoying than me,” you mumbled, speaking of Soap affectionately, but wanting to get your point across. 

He grunted in response—if you could call that a response.

You took in a sharp breath before speaking, waving your arms as you did even though he couldn’t see you as you stalked in his shadow. “I know you don’t like me. You’ve made that blatantly clear. I just thought this would be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better. I don’t know, maybe not ‘get to know each other’, that sounds lame. I just… I just thought you’d like me if I was able to prove myself—“ You slammed into Ghost as he faced you, gun resting by his side.

“What?! Why did we stop?” You asked in a panic. Your eyes immediately started searching the perimeter, trying to locate a threat. 

“I don’t hate you,” Ghost said through gritted teeth, his accent heavy. 

Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. He was actually listening to your rambling.

You suddenly felt embarrassed under his gaze, regretting every stupid word you just said. You must have sounded so pathetic, complaining that your superior doesn’t crack jokes or tell you how good you’re doing, like any of that is important. His eyes were burning holes through you. “Oh…” was all you could muster. His eyes shied away from you finally, deciding not to say more than he already did. 

He turned and began moving again. You felt your cheeks warm as you tried to shake off what just happened and followed Ghost.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, occasionally blinking for too long, seeing black, and feeling like you were about to nod off before startling yourself back awake with wide eyes.

“God, damn it,” Ghost huffed as he looked at you over his shoulder. 

You shook your head trying to wake yourself up. “Sorry, Lieutenant. I’m awake.” You pushed the hair out of your eyes and tried your best to keep them open. 

You could see Ghost contemplating something under his mask. He may have had most of his face covered at all times, but his eyes were full of expressions.

“Alright. We’ll rest a bit here. I’ll keep watch.”

You felt a sigh of relief knowing you could finally close your eyes for a minute, not caring enough to question him. You sank against the cool metal wall behind you. “You’re not gonna sleep?”

Ghost adjusted his stance. “Someone’s gotta keep watch. Now hurry up and sleep before I change my fuckin’ mind.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were out as soon as you closed your eyes.

You stirred, your body moved up and down waking you. You slowly pried your eyes open, wondering how long you had been out. That’s when you realized why you were moving. You were curled up against Ghost’s chest, his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your eyes widened as you rested against him. His breathing deep. 

You tilted your head to look up at him and he was already staring down at you. Before you could speak, Ghost answered your question. “You were shiverin’.” He said matter-of-factly as if that was a perfectly good explanation as to why the Lieutenant had you pressed up against him. Especially knowing how much you seemed to bother him, why would he care if you were a bit cold?

You pushed yourself off of him and sat up in an attempt to be at eye level with him. You were partially straddling his thigh as you stared him down, trying not to succumb to his dominating glare in an attempt to overpower you. 

“I was… Shivering?” You raised a brow, clearly not buying Ghost’s explanation. Ghost continued to stare at you. “What? Were you attempting to kill me in my sleep and then I woke up and ruined your plan?”

You pushed up off of him in annoyance and you felt his large hands grip your waist. He yanked you back so you were sitting on his thigh. Your eyes were wide with shock. Shit. Did I just piss off the lieutenant? You thought.

Ghost's voice was husky as he spoke, his throat strained from being awake for 42 hours and not getting much water. “I don’t fuckin’ hate you. And I wouldn’t plot to murder one of my men,” he growled. 

You raised your hands in defeat. “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” your voice became meek as you remained under Ghost’s grip, his fingers likely leaving bruises. You thought about pointing out the fact that he had said ‘men’ and not women, so technically he wouldn’t be lying if he still plotted to kill you. But you knew he was not in a joking mood—not that he ever was with you. He could see the way you were completely missing what Ghost was trying to say.

“Jesus, you’re as bad as Soap,” he mumbled.

You gave him a questioning glance. “And by that, you mean…” 

Ghost glared at you from under his mask. You could feel your ears warm. After what felt like hours, he pushed you away and stood up in a huff. “Let’s go,” he commanded. His voice was stern and you knew if you made a joke or argued, he’d likely knock you on your ass. He was grumpier than usual. 

You followed behind him solemnly, kicking at the ground as you walked like a bratty child. 

You still were exhausted, your eyes red. You had slept maybe 30 minutes before you woke up in Ghost’s arms. The memory made you shiver. 

Ghost growled, clearly as annoyed as any one man could be. He squatted in front of you and you looked at him dumbfounded. 

“Wha-“

“Get on.”

You laughed, but Ghost stayed squatted. Your face went stoic. “Wait. You can’t be serious.”

“I want nothing more than to go to sleep and forget this whole fuckin’ mission, but you sleepwalking will make it take twice as long for me to get what I want. So get the fuck on.”

You gulped. This was next-level embarrassment. Not only did the men have to protect you, but now your lieutenant had to literally carry you. 

Your face was burning hot as you timidly reached out and jumped on Ghost’s back. All his tactical gear made your position against him sort of uncomfortable, but you didn’t dare complain.

Ghost stood, his arms hooking under your thighs and began walking. 

You both were silent the whole rest of the way, your arms wrapped around him as he carried you. Every once in a while he had to adjust your position back up and your heart would beat just a bit faster as his fingers slid along your thigh. 

It felt like it took forever to make it back to base, you couldn’t imagine how long it would have taken if you both had to walk at your own pace. You were thankful at least that Ghost decided to carry you and not leave you behind to find your own way back. 

Ghost had departed from you once you made it inside and you hadn’t seen him since. You stretched, sitting on your bed and staring at the clock. 1:34 am

You grumbled as you stood up and began down the hall in your slippers, not exactly very happy that your sleep schedule was messed up. You had slept for a good 17 hours once you crashed, but that meant you were now wide awake at 1 in the morning. Ghost was probably fast asleep by now and not rolling around in bed like you were. You rolled your eyes at the thought. Only you’d be able to mess up sleeping, you imagined Ghost mocking in his thick accent. Why did the thought give you butterflies? 

You walked past the gym to go outside and get some fresh air when you saw a single light on in the corner of the gym. You rubbed your eyes, stopping and focusing through the window. It was Ghost. 

You pushed open the door and spoke softly. “Lt.?”

Ghost grunted as he set the weights he was lifting down and turned to face you. It was dark but you could see that his mask was pushed up so he could down his water bottle and you felt your ears warm. 

“What?” He asked exasperated.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” You asked quietly as if people were sleeping in the gym. But your voice was likely so low because you knew you were just going to irritate him by asking. Maybe if you spoke softly, it wouldn’t sound as jarring to him. 

He walked closer to you, grabbing a towel to your left to wipe his sweat away. You could make out the stubble that painted his jaw now that he was only two feet away. “I’m fine,” he grunted.

Most of Ghost’s eye paint had washed away from sweat and you could see the dark circles. “When was the last time you slept?” 

Ghost groaned and it made you take a step back from him. His hand pulled his mask back down and he walked back to his weights, ready to start lifting again. The man was going to work himself to death.

You walked over to him with a bit more confidence. “Lt., you really need to rest. You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep—“

He spun around, glaring at you. “You know why I can’t fuckin’ sleep?”

You felt small under his intense stare. You shook your head. 

“Oblivious, you are,” he grumbled, putting his weights away. 

“You want to talk about it?” You finally asked, unsure of what else to say. Maybe this would be a good time for him to confide in you? 

Before you knew what was happening, Ghost had you pinned against the wall, his breathing deep, your own heart racing in your chest. This isn’t what you expected.

“It’s because of you,” he growled.

“Me?” You said in a soft whimper. Was he truly this upset because you weren’t like the others? You got flustered and fumbled with a gun in your hands. You weren’t as skilled in battle as they were. You were just the tech guru. 

“You,” he grunted. “You’ve fuckin’ clouded my thoughts. You keep makin’ me distracted.”

Fuck, so your clumsiness was distracting him. “I’m sorry, I—“

“I can’t stop thinkin’ bout your warm body pressed against mine.” His voice was darker than earlier, but much quieter now. His strong arms straddled each side of your head, his eyes piercing you. You mentally jumped at his words.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, always irritated with how clueless you seemed to be. Weren’t you supposed to be insanely smart? Couldn’t you feel his eyes on you wherever you walked in a room? Couldn’t you see the way he purposefully avoided you since you were too much of a distraction to him because of how effortlessly breathtaking you always looked? Or because he was focusing so hard on making sure you were okay that he’d lose track of what he was doing? Couldn’t you see the way his fist tightened when you said you thought he hated you or when your honey-laced voice called him sir?

Ghost pushed his mask back up to his nose and bent into your face, your eyes widening. “You’ve consumed my every goddamn thought,” he mumbled before connecting his lips with yours. You froze at first, completely caught off guard. Ghost… Liked you? Really, liked you? 

Ghost was about to pull away but then you started to kiss him back. You couldn’t help yourself. 

He pushed himself closer to you, his hands dropping from the wall to rest on your hips. He pulled back and loomed over you, your flustered face making him feel weak again. “Hard to sleep when I can’t stop thinkin’ bout how your warm body felt so nice against me. Knowin’ I shouldn’t be thinkin’ bout you like that.” 

It all made sense now. You finally understood why he seemed to hate you. You began laughing. Of course, someone like Ghost would act like that when he had a little crush. This whole time you were so worried he would always despise you when that was never even the case to begin with. 

Ghost watched you until you stopped giggling, your face going serious in return. “Even though I’m awful at everything I do?”

Ghost’s arms were back next to your head making you jump. “You’re not. You’re great at exactly what we need you to be great at. It’s the reason you’re part of the task force.” You looked unconvinced and Ghost dragged a hand over his mask in annoyance. “Yeah, so you’re terrible with a fuckin’ gun. Why would I care about that?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I figured the lieutenant would hate anyone who wasn’t useful in the way he was…” 

“You think so lowly of me?”

“No! I only meant… I mean, I figured you admired strength and deadly skills more than…”

He mumbled your name heavily and you got chills. “I don’t fuckin’ care about any of that. You can do shit that I wouldn’t even know where to begin. If anything, it drives me crazy knowing you always need protection.” You took in a sharp breath, your palms flat against the wall behind you, worried he was about to explain why having to protect you all time drove him mad with rage, but what he said instead made you blush. “Makin’ me act… Possessive.” He sighed like he was talking to himself, explaining exactly why he couldn’t be attracted to you. “I can’t be actin’ like that.”

Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you almost couldn’t hear what he was saying to you. “Why?” You whispered. You could see Ghost’s jaw tighten under his mask. He stayed silent, not answering your question. 

Ghost’s eyes followed your hand as you reached up to his chin making him flinch. In embarrassment, you began to pull your hand away, but Ghost caught your wrist in his and moved your hand to lay against the side of his jaw. “Jus’ not used to touch, s’all.” 

“But you like it? Touch, I mean.” You asked softly, your fingers caressing the cheek of the scariest man you knew. If anything, the way he was towering over you, trapping you between his arms, made him scarier. And yet…

“Mhm,” he hummed almost inaudibly as if he wasn’t used to being vulnerable and was struggling to admit it.

Ghost wasn’t sure what to do next. Your voice surprised him when you asked him a question he didn’t think you’d ask. “Will you kiss me again?” Your eyes fluttered up at him. 

His eyes danced between yours. “Want me to?” A brow raised beneath his mask, his pupils blown.

You nodded. Ghost’s hand was on yours again, pulling it away from his face and pushing it against the wall behind you. His palm engulfed your hand entirely. He leaned down, hovering over your lips, brushing them slowly against yours. You whined before he finally kissed you again, this time rougher than before. 

When was the last time Ghost kissed someone else? He couldn’t remember. So then why was he acting so bold? Like this was a normal thing for him to do? It was likely the intense lack of sleep that was making him act drunk. 

Ghost moved and cupped your face as he kissed you. Your small hands gripped his shirt and tugged him closer to you, making Ghost chuckle against your lips. “Needy, aren’t we, love?” 

You were falling in love with the way he spoke to you. So much gentler than earlier. In a voice you never heard him speak before.

He pulled away, his lips hovering over yours, his eyes flickering across your face. “You really should sleep,” you whispered, the dark circles under his eyes perfectly visible to you now. 

“Yeah? It’s rather cold in my room,” he muttered, his eyes studying your own. Your hands stayed twisted in his shirt, “Need me to keep you warm, Lt.?” You couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. Granted, they were barely over a whisper. Normally Ghost could think properly, it was one of the many things he was known for, and he knew that this was a bad idea, but coming up on 50 hours without sleep was making him loopy.

He grinned and grabbed you, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

You yelped, “Ghost!” He smirked as he walked back to his room, tossing you on his bed. It was the same size as your bed: a twin. How on earth did this man fit in such a tiny bed? It was cruel. And how were the two of you going to fit?

“I don’t think we both can—“

“Would you stop whining for once and just lay beside me?” His voice was groggy and stern. You blushed in the dark, almost entranced by the way you irritated him. Except now you knew he liked it. 

Ghost climbed into the bed beside you, his room pitch black. He grabbed your waist and pulled you against him, startling you at his boldness. He had to hold you basically on top of him so you could both fit, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Within minutes he was asleep, his soft snoring rumbling through his chest. You smiled, resting against him. His arms tightened around you. You knew this was going to be a… situation in the morning. This was going to be awkward and would fill Ghost with regret and embarrassment, but right now, your eyes felt so heavy. And even if you wanted to leave, you weren’t sure you could escape Ghost’s grip. 

#ghost #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #fluff #angst #ghost angst #cod mw2

[lvlyghost]

pairings: simon riley x f!reader

summary: reader suffers from a chronic illness and ghost finds out.

wc: 1.1k

tw: chronic pain, chronic illness, slight angst i think, comfort. not edited and not proofread. that's it.

a/n: sorry y'all i'm struggling a lot with writer's block lately so i'm writing these silly little things to help me out of it so don't mind me!

By the moment Ghost enters his shared office he's frowning so hard that he fears it might leave a permanent mark on his forehead. The first day wasn't unusual as it was normal for soldiers, technicians and federal agents to come and go. Gaz is humming under his breath and greets him with a slight nod when he spots him but he barely returns the gesture. His desk is full of reports waiting to be filled some labeled 'Urgent' in big red letters.

Sitting down he manages to get done the first stack of papers but his mind was lost elsewhere barely paying attention to the work he never had trouble getting done in no time. Part of him wonders if Kyle will tease him if he asked about her. But better asking him than Johnny. As he leans back in his chair, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. Gaz barely pays attention, too enraptured by whatever he's watching on his own computer.

"Where's the girl?"

The Sergeant startles at the sudden sound of his deep voice. Hard and demanding.

"Sir?" He half chuckles when brown eyes meet each other.

"Have you seen her? She's supposed to report back to me and she hasn't." It was only half a truth. She did have to report to him every progress made for future missions, give him the intel so he can report to the Captain. The thing was, there were no missions taking place soon. No black ops, nothing. But Kyle didn't know that.

Gaz lifts his brows, trying to figure out who his Lieutenant was talking about, until it hits him.

"Oh." He murmurs. "The tech girl, Lt?" He shrugs. "Haven't seen her in a few days, have you tried calling her or you know... going to the women's barracks?"

Ghost scoffs as if the mere idea was ridiculous.

"No. Guess she'll show up."

She has to.

Standing up he exits the office under Gaz's questioning look. The hallways feel endless the more he walks to the tech wing, he knows if he passes down that specific hallway he'd be able to see through the glass that serves as walls if she's there or not.

Much to his already building annoyance she's not there.

-

Rolling onto your back you squeeze your eyes shut once more. An unyielding pain throbbing in the back of your skull shoots yet another wave of nausea making you feel more miserable than ever.

It's been two days since the whole ordeal started. It began with a subtle pain that couldn't recognize the symptoms at first, merely blinking away the black dors that started to blurred your vision one afternoon when you were trying to fill the reports for Ghost, pages and pages of new intel recovered from long lost contacts online.

Saying it was hard to dig in all those dark places was an understatement. You had tried to push the symptoms of uneasiness to the back of your mind, typing and decoding algorithms for what could be days. Days without sleep or proper and much needed rest.

So, when the first wave hit you had ran to the bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten that day. Oh how you hated it. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and the terror began, everything went down hill from there.

Shutting the computer off you gathered your belongings. The corridors were in complete silence, abandoned hours ago when everyone went to their dorms.

You remembered picking up some of your things from the women's barracks and retreating to your personal dorm where no one would bother you. As a member of the task force you had a place for you alone —just as the rest of the team— and you're grateful because the next days were a nightmare.

The curtains were tightly closed. Not the tiniest bit of light could pass even if the sun burned brighter. The earplugs helped but they didn't do much to alleviate the external noises. Fuck why were the soldiers so loud? You asked to yourself, jaw tight in an effort to soothe the pulsing on your forehead.

After laying in the same position for another hour you decide to get up, dragging your feet in an enormous attempt to get to the bathroom. With the lights turned off you undress as quickly as you can; standing on your feet is hard enough already but you wait nonetheless for the bath to fill with cool water.

With numb extremities you step in and lower yourself, it's almost soothing and calming the way the water swallows your body and then your head. Ever since these headaches —these migraines— started to interfere, you learned that cool water could help to ease the symptoms. Time passes by and when you emerge your teeth chatter, lips turned purple but it was worth it. God was it worth it.

You're exhausted, this has taken a toll on you. Fitting your pajamas feels like an impossible task. Your head throbs with the slightest of movement. And then the door opens just a tad, reveling the dark shadow of the man you'd recognize anywhere.

"Ghost," you murmur acknowledging his presence, half shocked half embarrassed that he's right here in your bedroom. Your bathroom.

"Why is everything dark?" His voice is too loud and it makes you flinch; he's quick to notice even in the sheer darkness. He notices the whimper in your voice when he speaks too loud. He notices the way your body sags, and when he takes a step close you lean on him. Forehead pressing down on his broad chest. "Hey." He calls you, voice lowering this time. "Let me take you to the bed."

And you almost want to say something it. Make a comment about it being inappropriate but you're too sick to even do it so you let him guide you. You let him lay you down and surprises you when he follows.

Bodies curling against the other. You rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes so hard until the pain soothes. "You never told me about it."

"Never had the chance. Thought you hated me, remember?"

Ghost sighs. He had never intended for you to feel like that around him, he just wasn't accustomed to having such a nice person around him. You were so different from everything he knew.

"Forgive me, love." He mutters. "They're gonna start asking questions."

"What do you mean?" You grab him by the shirt when a sudden wave of nausea hits you. He caresses your hair in a calming manner.

"I asked Garrick about you." Before you can fight it a smile spreads on your face.

"Johnny..." you snort, regretting it the moment the laugh rattles in your brain. The Scot is about to have a field day when he finds out. "Ow..."

"Will never hear the end of it." His thumb presses down on your temple massaging the spot. "Better?"

"Yeah." There's a moment of brief silence where all you can hear is the sound of feet outside your dorm. People carrying on with their lives. "Would you stay with me tonight Lt.?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

#cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #simon ghost x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost modern warfare #ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2

[angelltheninth]

If you’re still taking requests how do you feel a about Modern Mizu? If you’re interested in that setting could you do one in which both the reader and Mizu are in college and they get paired together for a project? Could be the reader is super shy but has a huge crush on Mizu and this is the perfect chance for them to get to know each other but the reader keeps stumbling on her words or blushes whenever Mizu looks at her 😂 oooh what if after one of their project sessions they didnt finish what they were supposed to do so then Mizu suggets they meet up for coffee tomorrow and run by some ideas and the reader agrees and Mizu is like “great, its a date” gosh the backflips my little heart would do lol. If you like this request and would like to do it then awesome and thank you! If not that’s cool too and i hope you have an awesome day! 💖

Funny I was talking to @multi-fandom-imagine about modern Mizu. Check out her Mizu imagines too cause they kinda inspired these.

Pairing: College!Mizu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, college au, studying together, coffee date, secret crushes, shy!Reader

A/N: Mizu brainrot is still strong. Also reminder that I appreciate the reblogs/comments, it lets me know that you enjoy my content.

College!Mizu keeps to herself and her small, very small, circle of friends. She is mostly focused on her studies and her various competitions, martial arts and swordsmanship. She's more passionate about those then her studies.

College!Mizu is very popular on campus. The target of many crushes, many confessions, bit never reciprocating them. She doesn't try to get attention, she really doesn't but it seems to follow her where ever she goes. That include attention from you.

College!Mizu was surprised when you approached her for the upcoming class project. Little did she know it took all of your courage to do so. She planned to do this with one of her friends but since you asked she'd feel bad refusing, she has seen you struggling a little in this particular class.

College!Mizu invites herself over to your place pretty casually. But don't you worry, she brings snacks. Explains why she asked for your favorites earlier that day. She was amused by how flustered you got trying to settle on just one so she brought more than one snack.

College!Mizu gets entirely too close to you, making it impossible for you to focus on the project. Try as you might you keep looking at her rather than focusing on the task at hand. Because of this time passes without you getting much done at all.

College!Mizu isn't oblivious to why you're so distracted. Her suspicions are only confirmed when she asks you to meet up for coffee and your eyes suddenly light up. When she puts her number into your phone you can't help but get the biggest smile on your face.

College!Mizu texts you the very next day asking if you're available tonight. She was so shocked by how quickly you replied, but also a lot more talkative through texts then in person. She even sent you a picture of herself so you could figure out what to wear to your date.

College!Mizu was a little bit late because of her swordsmanship practice but she did let you know in advance. Besides you don't mind waiting because she did send you a picture while on break. You never knew how pretty she looked with her hair down.

College!Mizu enjoys taking a break from everything and just talking to someone with nothing impending happening. Yes, there's the project but you have lots of time. Truth be told she wanted to see what you were like when you're casual with her.

College!Mizu is well aware that she can be a little bit intimidating at first, so breaking the ice like this will be good for the two of you if you're gonna work together in the future. For that to go smoothly she needed to get to know you better and she can't do that when you're constantly staring at her, too shy to say anything.

College!Mizu hopes that you'll learn to be more relaxed around her as time goes on. Maybe even work up the courage to confess, cause she's been secretly waiting for it since your first shared class together.

#blue eye samurai #mizu #bes #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #mizu imagine #bes imagine #blue eye samurai headcanons #mizu headcanons #bes headcanons #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai fluff #mizu fluff #bes fluff #college au #x female reader

[porcelainbambi]

strawberries, cherries & an angel’s kiss in spring

a small glimpse into farm life with ellie <3

18+

ellie williams x femme coquette reader

disclaimer: the first picture in the moodboard is not meant to directly represent the reader’s skin/body, i just think it fits the mood well <3 ik this will only appeal to some ppl stylistically and that’s ok!! this one is 4 the coquette pillow princesses, hope u enjoy <3 dedicated to the lovely @clearheartgreyflowers n @elskittie who encouraged me to write a lil something in the first place!! mwah

You enjoyed the work that came with living on the farm, you truly did. Loved to wake up early while the morning dew was still clinging to every petal and leaf, loved to tend to the animals and manage the gardens you cared for so dearly. Loved to dance around both inside and outside, loved that it was all a part of your home, part of the life you shared with Ellie.

Since moving onto the farm, you had formed quite the habit of doing all your daily tasks in the early mornings, usually having finished all you needed to do before noon even rolled around. This left you with the opportunity to spend some time in your beloved kitchen, sometimes baking small desserts with what ingredients you had available, other times simply washing and preparing some fruit you had gathered for a snack you could share with Ellie, all before she had even begun her own work for the day.

While you thrived in the morning hours, Ellie, on the other hand, preferred to do her share of the chores around midday, finishing shortly before dinner on the odd days where serious labour needed to be done. Never the morning person, she would’ve kept you in the warm nest of your shared bed, loving on you from the inside out until her own work beckoned around midday, every single day if she could. Even by then, she still hated to be away from you just as much as you loathed being separated from her for too long.

And so, you often accompanied her while she worked. Her little shadow following her around, floating from task to task, sometimes attempting to help (though she almost always stopped you, insisting all you had to do was sit pretty and talk about whatever was on your mind.) She would let you guide the conversation while she worked, occasionally coming over to where you sat perched on the fence or the hood of her truck to peck at your strawberry-stained lips, rough hands gently grazing over the soft peach-fuzz hair on your warm skin, leaving you love drunk and breathless before returning to her job with a poorly hidden smirk.

You absolutely adored this routine. You loved to watch her work with her hands, white wife-beater and black jeans often dirtied with mud or motor oil, gazing at the way her muscles worked under her skin and trying not to lose focus on what you were saying at the moment, lest she catch on to your staring and tease you about it until you were pink faced and huffy.

You loved when that teasing turned into something more, ending in her taking you over the hood of her truck, on top of a hay barrel or against a tree, fucking you dumb with the strap she so often wore under her jeans just for moments like that. She knew watching her work tended to get you riled up, heat pooling in your tummy until you couldn’t take it anymore, whining and pleading for her until she put her tools down and all too eagerly came to your rescue, helping you take care of the ache between your soft thighs.

You loved the routine that’d been created over the years of living on your farm together, and Ellie loved it just as much, maybe even more.

Sometimes, however, all of your own work you had done so early that morning would catch up with you around midday, a wave of fatigue you would relentlessly fight, not wanting to miss out on a single moment with your girlfriend. That is until Ellie would notice your small yawns, the way your eyelids began to droop and she would insist you go lay down for a little nap, promising to come get you as soon as she was finished. You would always whine, insisting you were barely even tired, your own body betraying you when a yawn cut your argument short.

And so, with a few extra kisses and a pat on your bottom, you’d make your way over to one of your favourite places on the land you called home.

Next to one of your large oak trees laid a small clearing, a sun-dappled expanse of plush grass that practically felt like a blanket all on its own. Violets and buttercups littered the ground, an old large picnic blanket sprawled out that seemed to beckon you to lay down. Sometimes you didn’t sleep at all, simply lazing about and listening to the soothing sounds of the wind and the nearby river, the sheep occasionally bleating nearby, letting your thoughts and daydreams carry you away, often finding that those daydreams were awfully close to the life you already were living with Ellie. Sometimes you took the time to read, leafing through old magazines and books you’d read countless times before and somehow never tired of. But most times, your eyelids would heavy and before you knew it you were peacefully resting, dozing in and out of sleep until Ellie came to wake you, having finally finished her tasks for the day. Always gently climbing over your form, careful not to dirty your sundress with her own muddied clothes, admiring you for a few moments before gently rousing you from your slumber.

And that was just how she found you then: warm and drowsy, laying on your tummy with your cheek squished against your arm where you had rested your head. Your linen covered back rising and falling steadily with your breaths, the little sundress you wore ruffling gently with the occasional breeze. As her eyes skimmed down, she could see the way the dress had bunched up slightly with your small movements, the backs of your thighs completely bare up to the slightly visible crease where your thighs met your ass, pink cotton panties peeking out just a bit. She felt herself warm from the inside out at the sight.

Ellie approached quietly, as always. Wiping her hands on her jeans to make sure they were clean, she slowly knelt on the blanket, hovering over your sleeping form. As she leaned down, her senses were immediately overtaken by you, you, you. Your balmy skin that smelt like sun & faintly of the lavender soap she’d helped glide over your body the night before. Your hair splayed out over your shoulders like a veil, which she gently pushed away with a calloused hand to lay soft kisses on the expanse of skin now exposed to the humid air and her touches.

You awoke slowly, humming quietly when you recognized her presence. She always toke care to wake you as gently as possible, soothing you back into consciousness with grazing touches and hushed words. You rolled onto your back underneath her hovering form, blinking away the sleep from your tired eyes until the face you loved more than anything in the universe came into focus. A roughened hand came down to brush some of your hair out of your face as she smiled sweetly at you, finally murmuring out a greeting.

“Hi, sweet girl.”

You giggled at the pet name, muttering a small “Hi” back, cheeks heating already at the small display of affection. That was just the thing with these moments, no matter how frequently they occurred and how often she absolutely spoiled you rotten with her affection and touch, you were seemingly always more sensitive to it in that warm, sleepy, sunkissed state. Everything felt a million times stronger, heavier and simultaneously lighter, time passing leisurely under her gaze. There was nowhere else to be, nothing else to be done, your existence together on that frayed blanket the most important moment in history, as if the universe formed just for this. Just for the two of you. And, more often than you’d like to admit, in these moments you also tended to become a million times needier, the urge to be completely consumed by her and in turn to consume her back entirely overpowering any other senses you possessed.

Ellie knew this, of course. She could read you like a book that she knew by heart, had learned all your micro-expressions and committed their meanings to memory until she could practically read your mind at any given moment from a single glance, a one second scan all it took to know what you needed. Now was no different, as she immediately picked up what was going on: the tiny shifts of your hips under her own, the way you were worrying at your bottom lip with your front teeth, your little fingers aimlessly gripping and releasing the fabric of your dress as you gazed up at her, bambi eyes glassy and wide and so, so trusting.

Ellie also knew you were often too shy to verbalize what you wanted, when you wanted it. A much needed discussion at your small kitchen table had helped clear this up, as you explained to her how you often felt at a loss for words when you needed her most, throat seemingly closing up and an air of timidness taking over. She knew this, and she knew the solution was; To do all the serious talking, saying what needed to be said and letting you confirm or deny with your small noises and nods and the pawing of your hands until you’d relaxed enough to open up verbally again.

Toying with the trim of your dress between thumb and forefinger, eyes boring into your own with the intensity that always seemed to subdue your mind into that fuzzy state you couldn’t quite describe with words, she began to speak in the hushed tone she reserved for moments like this.

“You feelin’ a little needy, baby?”

You nodded, a small noise of agreement coming from the back of your throat.

“Want me to take care of you?”

You nodded quickly, up and down so fast she thought your head might pop off your shoulders if you kept at it.

She let out a small giggle, followed by a string of “alright, alright baby”s. You had been in this position countless times, enough so that she knew exactly what you needed the most, beginning by gently flipping up your dress and laying it neatly on your tummy. Placing soft kisses on the newly exposed skin, seemingly in no rush at all as you started to whine, hips stirring, body doing everything in its power to call her to where you needed her most.

This was stopped, however, by her big hands gripping your hips, gently pushing them down into the blanket again, holding them there as she continued her ministrations. “Easy, sweetheart” she cooed. “Gonna give you what y’need, just be my good girl ‘nd be patient.”

She didn’t make you wait too long, wanting to reward you for the way you almost immediately stilled your movements at her request. Repositioning, she laid down between your thighs, pushing your knees up until there was room for her in the middle. Propped up on her arms resting on either side of your hips, her head was now just mere inches away from your clothed mound. Your breathing had quickened significantly, and while another time she may have teased you for longer, really taking her sweet time just letting her warm breath torturously fan over your heat, she felt like being nice today. With one last look for permission being met with an eager nod of your head, she gently pulled the damp cotton to the side, simply admiring your puffy cunt for a moment before ducking her head down.

The first kiss she laid over your slit immediately had you keening, reaching a hand down to hold onto her own that was laid across your tummy, keeping you pressed to the blanket where she wanted you. It didn’t take long for the small kisses to turn into messy, open mouthed ones, to her flat tongue swiping through your folds, occasionally working her way up and suckling on your swollen clit as you cried out softly.

Your mousy noises were nearly entirely drowned out by her own noises of pleasure as she went to work on you. Ellie was never one to be quiet in times like this, and there was no exception when she was using her mouth on you. Grunting, moaning, slurping, all from her own enjoyment of the pleasure she was giving you mixed with the addicting taste of your juices she so greatly savoured, it was obscene every single time.

Eventually, she could start to feel your hole clenching around nothing as she continued her tongue’s movements. Dipping lower, she slowly circled it with the tip of her tongue, relishing in the feeling of your body fluttering against her prodding. Once she deemed you ready, encouraged by your increasing whines and a muffled “please” from your plush lips, she began gently pushing the muscle inside your warm heat.

Spurred on by your whines and the way your grip on her hand tightened, she flicked her tongue upwards and revelled in the way you clenched around it. Your taste was even stronger like this, now leaking directly into her eagerly awaiting mouth, and she couldn’t get enough, ever. She moved like a woman starved, the vibrations from the groans she let out adding to your own white-hot pleasure, which was mounting by the second.

You could feel it rising, building and building, knot forming in the lowest part of your tummy. The intensity was overwhelming and suddenly, your upper half felt too exposed. You needed to be eye level with Ellie, needed to feel completely encased by her, fully consumed by her. Needed the intimacy of her breath fanning across your face when you eventually reached your peak. You began to pull where you gripped at her forearm, mumbling a quick “up, up, please”, and of course she knew exactly what you meant.

Pulling away from your heat, you got a hazy look at the mess you’d made of her face, lower half glistening with your slick, reddened lips puffed slightly, appearing as though she’d just devoured the ripest peach one could find. She immediately replaced her mouth with her warm hand, simply cupping your pussy as she clambered, repositioning until she was laying next to you on the blanket, using her supporting arm to wrap around the top of your head a bit, caging you in safely. she removed her hand only to finally push your panties down your thighs, returning her touch the second they were out of her way. As she slotted her lips with yours, your own taste quickly melting with the laps of her tongue against your own, she let two of her fingers slip inside you, quickly assuming the motion she knew you loved so much: stroking your velveteen walls in an upward motion, punching in and out with her forearm so she hit that sweet, gummy spot with nearly exact precision every single time.

You were gasping into her lips immediately, still trying to kiss back through it all, small hand shooting up to wrap around the back of Ellie’s neck, keeping her face close to your own as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten further. She kissed the corner of your mouth where it was stretched open, sweet noises falling from your plush lips as the pleasure began to build to that special point again, this time feeling safe in her body’s shelter, allowing the feeling to wash over you completely as it rose. She knew it was happening right away, from the way you clenched around her fingers, gushing out more liquid that dripped down her wrist, to the frantic sounds you were producing and the way you gazed up at her, completely falling apart in a way you only could because you knew she was there to keep you together.

“You gonna cum, angel? Hm?”, she says against your lips, knowing she won’t get a proper verbal answer. A warbled moan and a teary-eyed nod are what she gets in response, and she knows the last thing you need to push you over that edge.

“C’mon baby, s’okay. Cum for me, you can cum. My sweet girl, let it happen. Love you so much-”

The knot unravels with a whip the second those words leave her lips, and she feels you gush around her fingers at the same time as she sees those familiar tears of pleasure spill over your inky eyelashes. You’re trembling and crying out, her movements continuing to help you ride it out as long as it can last. The pleasure is almost unbearable, warmth blossoming in your chest as your thrust your head into the apex of her neck.

You can distantly hear her speaking to you, not quite able to make out the words as you let it all wash over you, floating within your high, but you know she’s talking you through it all. You know there’s gentle praises spilling from her lips. And sure enough, as your senses begin to readjust, that’s exactly what you hear.

“There you go, thaaat’s it baby. My sweet girl, did so good, ‘m so proud of you, such an angel. I’ve got you, shhh-sh-sh.”

It’s only then that your ears register your own cries, gently whimpering into your girlfriend’s neck as the tears continue to spill. The overwhelming feeling from your release catching up with you, and you’re suddenly snapping your thighs shut around Ellie’s arm, the stimulation now too much in this sensitive state.

“Okay, okay baby, i’ve gotcha. Gonna pull ‘em out now, ‘kay?” she soothes, waiting for your approval before gently slipping her fingers out, triggering a rush of your own release to spill out onto the blanket below as you whine.

You feel her wiggle down your body until she’s face level with your now soaked pussy and thighs again, using her thumbs to gently part your folds without further stimulating your swollen clit. With a few tentative fingers, she scoops up what she can of your release from your drooling hole, shushing you when you flinch at the contact before popping them in her mouth, humming at the taste, her own eyelids fluttering.

After a few small kisses to the tops of your still shaking thighs, she gently pulls your cotton panties back up, playing with the little bow that sits at the top of the waistband gently before lowering your sundress once again, covering your sensitive cunt.

Before you know it she’s back up there with you, lifting your spent body until you’re cradled against her as you catch your breath, humming contentedly. She kisses the side of your head, moving down to the fat of your cheek until you’re giggling and completely pliant in her arms. Only then do you begin to speak coherently again, starting the conversation in the only way that feels appropriate in the moment.

“Love you els”, said through giggles.

Ellie thinks her heart might just break through her ribcage and escape her body in an attempt to completely join itself with your own.

“I love you more, silly girl. How you feelin’? All good? Comfortable?”

Your answer is easy, not needing to think at all. “Perfect”, you mumble back. “Jus’ a little sleepy again.”

Ellie laughs, hard enough to shake you a bit where you lay against her chest. You didn’t need to tell her that for her to know, your penchant for wanting to sleep against her skin after she’d fucked you dumb all too familiar. “Alright, I hear ya sleepyhead. What d’you say we head inside, get cleaned up and cuddle a bit before dinner? Hm?”

You nod, humming along before thinking for a moment, brows furrowing in the slightest, immediately prompting Ellie to smooth it out with her thumb. Then blinking up at her gently, eyelashes fluttering, giving her those bambi eyes you know she melts under the gaze of before speaking once more.

“Carry me inside, els?”

And she never, ever could say no to that request.

#dolly writes🦢 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #wlw smut #coquette reader

[cozage]

Hi Coza! Congrats on the milestone! You so deserve it! Can I please have a Law x female Strawhat reader who reunited after they spent the two years together, how do they explain to the rest of the Strawhats that they ended up starting to date during that time (they are still dating now) and how do the strawhats react to the news? Thank you and congrats again!

A/N: I could’ve spent another 12 pages writing about this UGH great prompt friend. (also going to tag @nico-the-witch since they sent me a very similar request FOREVER ago <3)

Characters: female reader x Law Total word count: 1.1k

The Hats or the Hearts

You were dodgy when your crewmates asked you about your two year gap. You were certain that Luffy would feel betrayed by your decision to travel with other pirates, even if it hadn’t been your intention at first. 

You and Law had fallen in love. There was no other way to put it. Your two years had been spent training, but also learning about yourself, and in the softest hours of the night, learning about him. You hadn’t planned to fall in love, especially with another captain. But that was the way your heart chose.

And yet, at the end of the two years, you returned to Sabaody. You couldn’t abandon your family, and Law had respected that. He had business to attend to, anyway. A personal mission he needed to take care of. So you left the crew behind, just the two of you had headed off to Sabaody, and then he left you there to wait for Luffy. 

You should’ve ended things. Both of you knew how impossible it would be for two members of opposing crews to be together. But neither of you could bring yourself to end such a good thing, so you promised to call when you could, and that was that. 

And yet, you still weren’t sure how to break it to Luffy and the others. How do you admit that you spent your two years falling in love while everyone else was isolated on an island, solely focused on their training?

“Luffy, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you finally said, once the two of you were alone. “It’s about our two year gap. I was-”

“Look!” Luffy shouted, pointing out to sea. “A volcano is erupting! Let’s go there!”

“Listen, Luffy-” you tried again. 

“Wait a minute, Luffy!” Nami shouted over you. 

“Let’s go!” Luffy shouted. He didn’t seem interested in having a heart to heart, though you couldn’t blame him with a fiery sea laid out right in front of him. 

A little while later, you were on the island of Punk Hazard, traveling with Zoro, Luffy, Robin, and Usopp. Your confession and explanation would have to come later. 

Only a few hours, as fate would have it. 

“Oh! It’s you!” Luffy called from atop the beast you rode. “Do you remember me?!”

“He’s the guy we met at the Human Shop in Sabaody,” Zoro murmured. 

You scrambled up to get a better look. A spotted hat and a black cape. But that was impossible, why was he here? He had personal business to take care of. Punk Hazard wasn’t anything important to him. 

“Luffy,” your voice filled with urgency. “There’s something you should know.”

“He’s Trafalgar Law,” Robin reported. “He’s now…”

“Torao!” Luffy shouted. “He helped me get away from the battlefield and treated my wounds.”

“Luffy,” you said again, your eyes still locked on Law. “I need to-”

But he took off running toward Law without listening to your words, and the two captains spoke for several minutes. Your heart sank watching them, watching Law’s eyes flick occasionally to you. This was the last way you wanted your captain to find out about all of this. 

But when Luffy returned, he didn’t say anything about his conversation with Law. You kept waiting for him to bring it up, but you all were being chased by the Navy. Perhaps he knew it was a conversation for later. There were more important tasks to be done. 

Your group raced around the lab and found the rest of your crew, along with some very large children. Ones who appeared to be giants. 

You didn’t rest until everyone was safe in a snowcave, and that’s when you began to notice your crewmates personalities were a little…off. 

“Law switched your minds, didn’t he?” You held back a laugh. Of course he did. He knew the Strawhats wouldn’t be able to leave without being put back into the correct bodies. And you would finally be able to see him again.

“How’d you know?” Nami asked.

“Of course he did!” the random head shouted. “That warlord is the one who cut me up, too!”

“Warlord?!” Luffy shouted, emerging from the snowball he was in. “When did Torao become a warlord?!”

“Within the past two years,” Robin said.

“About ten months ago, if I remember correctly.” Everyone gave you strange looks, and you let out a deep sigh. “Luffy, I really need to talk to you.”

Luffy’s brow furled. He didn’t like the sound of your voice. “What is it?”

You looked around the circle. Better to just tell everyone now and get it over with. “During our two year training time, I sailed with Law and the Heart Pirates.”

There was a long pause. Everyone was looking at their captain, waiting for his response. 

“Torao? Are you sure? He didn’t mention it when I talked to him earlier.”

Law not mentioning or asking about you was odd, but you had to assume he was only doing it out of respect. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Luffy. I was just scared of what you would say. I was afraid you would kick me out of your crew.”

“Why would I kick you out?” Luffy scratched his head in confusion. “Do you want to leave?”

“No!” you cried out. “No, I want to stay with you and everyone. I just…wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Can’t say I blame you for sailing with him,” Nami said. “He’s an interesting character.”

“And quite skilled,” Robin offered up.

But Zoro eyed you warily, trying to figure out your true allegiance. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Luffy, I swear I want to see you become King of the Pirates,” you said, your words genuine. “I think you deserve it more than anyone.”

“Yeah!” Luffy shouted. “But I really don’t know why you were scared to tell me about sailing with Torao. We all did cool things during our time away. Brook toured, Robin joined the Revolutionary Army, and you sailed the sea. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Except that she served under another captain,” Zoro said, still locked onto you. “Another captain who is coincidentally a warlord who helps the government. And he’s coincidentally on this island with us now.”

“I had no idea he was going to be here, I swear!”

“See Zoro?” Luffy shrugged, clearly not caring about the idea Zoro was alluding to. “She says she didn’t know. She’s still a part of our crew. That’s what matters.”

And you were loyal to the Strawhats. But you were also loyal to the Heart Pirates. You just prayed you’d never have to make a decision between one or the other.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #law x you #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

[being-addie]

Morning Routines

We're all looking at those Instagram influencers who somehow manage to wake up at 5 am, do meditation, journal, do a 15-step Korean skincare routine, and go to the gym. And then they make a green smoothie and avocado toast, get dressed in a Chanel outfit and then sit at their fancy desk with a vanilla latte and a croissant.

This is not realistic. You probably already know that, but it likely won't stop you from trying to change your routine bit by bit to look a little like theirs. That didn't stop me, at least.

But now I've come to realise that no matter how much I try, I'll never be able to have a routine like the ones I see online. Because it doesn't exist. It's all curated for aesthetic appeal and generates a sense of false productivity in the watcher's brain. We feel motivated looking at those videos and never get around to changing our own life because we're too busy living vicariously through our phones.

Here's some things you should add to your morning routine, not to be fancy, but to feel better. This is coming from someone who's tried the unrealistic routines, and I now incorporate all of these into my routine. You can skip or add things according to your schedule.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H: Do your body a favour and loosen up your muscles. Nothing better than having a good stretch that wakes your body up.

Drink water: Before you put anything in your system, drink water. Not coffee, not tea. Plain warm water. And I don't mean lemon water. Some people might not agree, but lemon water strips your teeth of the enamel. It also is acidic, so all that bullshit they talk about it being "alkaline and pH balancing" is nonsense. Warm water is the way to go.

Make your bed: A clean bed should be the first thing you do after you wake up. At the end of the day, you'll thank yourself because it will be clean, and fresh and you can fall into bed immediately.

Hygiene: Wash your face to get rid of crusty eyes and sleep. Do a basic skincare routine (cleanser, moisturizer) so you'll feel fresher. Brush your teeth and hair.

Move your body: It doesn't matter what you do, even if it's for 15 minutes. Go for a walk, do a Zumba workout, or squeeze in a HIIT session. You can find lots of tutorials on YouTube (Caroline Girvan, growingannanas, Chloe Ting). Either way, working out will help you feel more motivated and happier. It's the endorphins.

Clean yourself: Set aside some time for showering, slathering on lotion, and doing your (real) skincare and makeup routine. Pick an outfit that makes you feel good about yourself.

Eat something: ALWAYS make some food. Your body has been famished for hours on end, give it some fuel. Make a healthy breakfast, or prep one the night before. If you don't get very hungry in the mornings, have a banana, and pack a mid-morning snack beforehand so you don't reach for chips.

Do 3 things: Make a to-do list of everything you need to do today. Don't overwhelm yourself. Then, knock off 3 easy tasks from the list that you can do quickly. You'll be filled with a sense of motivation, and it'll be easier for you to complete your list. It can be chores, it could be some assigned reading. Just get it done.

Gratitude or prayer: You don't need to sit for 15 minutes to practice gratitude. You can think of things your thankful for on the way to school or work or practice deep breathing/say a small prayer on the subway or bus. You don't HAVE to do it, but it definitely makes you realise how much you have in life and appreciate it more.

Kindness: Start your day with kindness. Compliment your barista, smile at the old lady on the street, pet the stray cat. There's so much love in the world, and you have so much love inside you, and it's beautiful to be a part of it.

No longer will I be stuck in a rut. I cannot be confined to being a bitter, unhealthy person when I know there's a smiling, healthy, happy version of me in the future. Deep breaths. You'll get there babe.

<3

#self care #self improvement #self love #level up #level up journey #self love journey #glow up #college #tips and tricks #it girl #that girl #perfect #life #morning #morning routine

[thatgirlie-diaries]

Academic tips that work for me

Hello girlies! This is a post that I have been delaying for like 2 weeks, but now it's time or me to post it. In this blog I will give you all the things I do to keep myself getting high grades and maintain the "intelligent" persona I have worked for since I started studying my college career and fortunately others see me this way now.

I do not study hevy or know a lot about studying methods, I am more into "smart work > hard work" kind of thing

My personal tips

This are my tips being an auditory person focused on being effortless

Understand your learning style: Are you visual? Auditory? Or kinesthetic? By knowing this you can apply studying methods that are efficient for you.

Pay attention to your classes!: I think the main reason I slay effortlessly my exams is because of this so I only need a quick study. You will be saving future time since your study sessions will be lighter because you will remember lots of the things.

Participate / Ask questions: It's easy, you will get points with your teachers as a great student, plus you will get your questions solved.

Put your on a place you can't see it so it doesn't distract you, for classes or when you need to study / get work done.

Study in a place when you feel comfortable, it can be at an cafe or at the library, even in your bedroom at a desk, what matters is that you feel comfortable and that you get the feel of "this is a place where I can study / do my assignments" and not feel lazy or uncomfortable by "x or y" reason. As a plus, keep your space clean and only with the necessary at sight.

Use music that doesn't distract you and you vibe with: Listen to music that doesn't have lyrics, but that's a basic by now. What I recommend you is to listen to music that you just vibe with to get your desired mood and motivation. In my case, I listen to videogame soundtracks since it makes me feel relaxed or to classical music because I fee like "that business girly", either way music helps me concentrate.

Romanticize your studies: This can mean different things to all of you reading this post, I am talking about making your academic journey fun and pleasing rather than streesing! Some ideas are having cute stationery, take cute notes, act like one of your fav academic characters, have study playlists, drinking coffee, go to the library or to cafes, dress cute for school, read, light candles, watch "study with me" videos and study vlogs, create a pinterest board, stablish academic goals, etc.

Do your homework when you have free time at school / college or do it as a first thing after your schedule, this will help you save time. Think about it, if you do it while having free time at school / college you don't need to do it at home. And if you need to do it at home, if done as the first thing, you will either way get so much free time and can focus on other tasks or activities freely.

Be organized: Have a bullet journal or use an app to keep track of your subjects and assignments. By this you will remember and keep in sight upcoming deadlines and events.

Take care of your academic relationships: I make sure that the people inside my circle of friends are girls (mainly, but boys too) who I feel comfortable, have fun with but also are similar to me in the sense that they take seriously her studies and are good teammates. Outside of them I also focus on other potential classmates that are intelligent and have similar values. There is no need to bother on the ones who don't attend classes, are irresponsable and don't even know what are they doing in the course.

Take care of yourself: Ask yourself? Will it be worth it while not sleeping enough, having a poor diet and exercise? By not letting yourself rest or have fun from time to time? By not practicing self-care? By not practicing any hobby or taking the time for your interests ? Please take care of yourself, girl, this is the lowest part of the pyramid. The reason to care is not only your wellbeing, but also because having a poor lifestyle can have bad effects for you that also affect your performance, and we won't like that.

Now go and slay your academic year / course! 𑄽𑄺ྀ

#clean girl #coquette #dream girl #girljournal #hyper feminine #it girl #motivation #my diary #pink aesthetic #pink blog #pink #pinterest girl #pinterest #study motivation #study blog #student life #studyspo #self improvement #self care #self love #leveling up #motivateyourself #get motivated #that girl #girlblogging #just girly things #girly tumblr #just girly thoughts #just girly posts #girly blog

[bigfatbimbo]

I am haunted by visions of Vox with a capable assistant who doms him after hours. The role reversal of guy thinking he can fuck his secretary but she turns the tables and fucks him has me sweating

I got inspired by a turn of phrase that would might have been popular a little bit before Vox’s time “his girl, Friday”

Basically a “girl Friday” was a term used for a woman in the office who acted as a jack of all trades and was good at doing a bunch of different jobs. This person was usually very capable and the office’s go-to-girl for anything and everything

So I keep imagining Vox with this hyper-competent assistant. He hires her and after becoming familiar with the company, she manages to handle things before he even asks her to do them. He decides to try and rattle her a bit with impossible tasks to knock her down a peg, but she takes that as a challenge and somehow completes them with a smarmy “will that be all,sir”

Game on. He keeps challenging her and asking for crazier shit just to prove that she can be shaken. She doesn’t even flinch, it’s a little intimidating and bruises his ego

Eventually he’s working late (which means she’s working late because somehow their work ethics are equally insane) and he starts being all snide and pissy and she just puts him in his place, insulting his behavior and his temper and physically backs him into his desk before telling him that he needs to be taught proper manners

And from then on, by day she’s Vox’s right hand who never leaves his side. But by night she bends her boss over his desk or presses him into his office chair, making him whimper and moan as she teaches him a lesson and berates him

So yeah, boss tries to dominate assistant but she effortlessly reverses their roles and makes him cry “Yes, ma’am!”

People think he’s tapping his assistant but whenever comments are made they share a look and Vox just thinks “they can’t ever know that I call you Mommy”

So the other day, I posted about wanting to do a human Vox au but lacking ideas, and one of the comments was involving an assistant x boss type deal. I don’t know if this ask is unrelated or directly caused by that post, but it gives me lots of ideas for a more specific au involving human Vox.

Anyways, since it wasn’t specified, i’ll keep the alive or dead details pretty vague. When I tell you this idea has been rotting in my brain all day, I fucking mean it.

Like this is genuinely about to get me out of writers block oh my fucking god. “His girl, friday” is a term i’ve never heard before but it’s so fitting with this. I love the go-getter incredibly efficient reader so much.

And god, it would bother Vox to an ungodly point. Because being in close quarters a lot, you being his assistant, of course he picks up on your efficiency. It makes him a little insecure because you honestly get things done quicker than he could.

So after throwing everything he can at you to knock you overboard your parade of orderliness, and you doing it all absolutely flawlessly, he can’t help but throw one of his tantrums.

Coming to him at the the end of the day, explaining you did everything he’d asked, and went beyond, closed multiple business deals for him, and got the inside information on upcoming possible marketing events. He should be happy, this objectively helps his business. But instead, he sits at his desk, watching you from across the room, before absolutely exploding.

I mean, you do his jobs better than he does. And he goes on a huge rant about how he doesn’t believe this, and how you must have absolutely no life, and basically degrading and insulting you for doing your job correctly.

And then yes, you yell at him, practically daring him to fire you. He won’t, you’re too much of an asset. You’re basically untouchable. So with that, you yell back, but unlike Vox who erupted with rage, you keep yourself as level headed as possible while talking sternly. Make even talking to him condescending as of talking to a child, explaining how it’s absolutely unbelievable he’s throwing a fit over good work ethic, and how he’d have to be out of his mind to pout about something so beneficial for Voxtech.

Going on and on about how his competitive, aggressive, targeting work behavior is unacceptable and pathetic… and now you have him back up against his desk, his sneer turning into a look of astonishment.

And then his eyes dart down, heat rising to his cheeks, and you notice the bulge in his pants. At first, you go silent, but then tease him with “You want me to take care of that too? Or will you yell at me for being too good at my job.”

Well, then he’s mad again. Probably definitely a struggle for power the first time you fuck. Yes, he tries to dom you, and fails because jesus, he really was pathetic. But you have him lied back in his chair, pinning his wrists down to either side of him, while you ride his dick into overstimulation. But he’s trying to keep quiet so no one else is the office hears his whimpers and whines.

But when he gets too loud, simply remind him that you’ll have to stop and he responds with a watery, whimper of “Y-yes ma’am.”

Now, fridays are dedicated to his girl, friday. Coincidentally, you’re both working late on those days, and even more coincidentally, you have business in his office.

That business being bending Vox over his desk until he has to cover his pathetic sobs with his hand so a janitor doesn’t hear him crying for his mommy.

Anyways, I’m almost done. I think this specifically appeals to me in a human Vox au sense because i’m hell, a work place of hell wouldn’t be particularly normalized, but it’s hell so it’s absolutely not frowned upon. He’d probably get teased about it at best, and literally a high five for tapping that. But in a human au, the stakes are much higher because there’s an actual sense of ethics and morals in business.

Also in the fifties, do you even know how taboo it would be for a boss to not only be sleeping with his assistant, but getting dominated by her every night???? I dunno.

Oh and the toxic masculinity of it all because it’s the 1950s and without being exposed to the normalization of kinks in hell, it would be so hard to break this brat down. Obviously not impossible, it’s Vox. But so much more irritating.

However, i’m hesitant to actually do a human au literally because of the silly picture I always put at the beginning. Because like I have such a specific image of what he looks like in my head (the @//notherpuppet human design) but… I don’t want to have to DM an artist and be like “Hey! love the art, can I use it for my dom reader power dynamic assistant x boss Vox x reader human au fic 😁😁😁🙏🙏” LIKE GANG I CANNOT.

Anyways, this wasn’t proofread, rant over, bimbo out.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #vox x reader #inbox open #sub vox

[undercoverpena]

4. green smoke

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter four of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used, you wear a date outfit but not specified and the shoes have heels but not mentioned what kind. minor discussion of past canon events incl. drugs. no use of y/n. an: if this as a friends episode this would be called "the one where they talk"

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Friday soon arrives.

It comes hand-in-hand with a tumultuous storm, bringing with it ominous rumbles echoing through your house. The air feels charged with tension, wrung tight, all sense—as if it’s holding its breath while the world around seems to retreat into darkness. Even if the time on your laptop says 14:43.

Your gaze fixates on beads of rain running down the window, all racing one another—like you have been for several minutes. The steady patter provides a rhythmic backdrop to your solitude, interrupted only by the occasional sighs that escape your lips and the soft tapping of your pencil against the notebook—a feeble attempt at pretending you’re concentrating.

Pretend is the optimum word.

Merely putting on a show of focusing on the task at hand. In reality, your eyes keep flicking to your phone—the one lying silent on the counter, eagerly anticipating the next notification that’ll make it illuminate.

Your work, the one thankfully with a deadline of next week, continues to sit ignored—barely considered, never mind plotted. Because it isn’t what fills your mind.

It’s him.

Just thoughts of him—mind populated with vivid memories that refuse to fade, unable to stop lingering on the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles or his infectious laugh. The one which has dug itself a place into the walls of your home, lit it up.

Then, you think of his lips, the ones that are purposeful, all heavenly. The mere thought of them sends a shiver down your spine, a longing present, spreading—

Unloading a delivery and you’re falling on me.

It's difficult not to smile at his message.

Something he effortlessly elicits from you now. Has done so since the very beginning. A thing he continues to do so the more the two of you speak.

It's giddy, almost teenage-like, the way your heart scampers to catch itself as your fingers try to pretend they're not darting to reply.

Excuse me? Rain. Oh, that is such a dad joke. It was. I’m pretty proud of it. Bet it made you smile. I will not confirm or deny. So that means it did. Shut up.

Thumbs swirling over the screen, you roll your lips, toes twitching on the floor as you grin.

So, how big is the candle going to be in the middle of the table? Ummm, appropriately sized for a restaurant? Hmm, I have only gone on dates with inappropriately sized candles. Are you flirting with me when I’m at work? Are you saying that like you don’t flirt with me when I’m at work? In my defence, you choose your own hours. Do you mind me flirting with you? Not even a little bit. Good. Because guess what I’m wearing right now? Hopefully nothing. I’m wearing sweats and a baggy T-shirt. Still hot. Get back to work, Butterscotch.

You know it’s not long—a handful of hours until you’ll be across from him.

Likely with your smile hurting your cheeks, eyes unable to stand looking away from him for more than a few minutes. Unable to explain or rationalise how straightforward it is with him, how natural it feels to get swept up in all of this and find yourself wanting to be around him.

Something you try to put to the back of your mind, to not clock-watch, not count down. Doing well at it until you hear your phone buzz and see his name appear on your screen.

The laundry you're putting away ignored, the item dropped from your hand to the floor, before wiping your hands on your thighs, taking a measured breath, then lifting the phone to swipe it.

His voice fills your ear almost immediately. All hello and your name, a can you hear me? following.

And your heart skips a beat—missing a whole thud against your ribs as you stare at the outfit hanging on the closet door.

“I’m really sorry—“

And your heart falls. Descends gradually, like a feather freefalling. Doing so until it has nowhere else to go but sit in the hollow void. Disappointment beating, pulsating.

“—Harold… he had to leave early, his heart was playing up and he said he’d come back. But I can’t make him do that, wouldn’t be able to enjoy ourselves if he just—"

“—Frankie—“

“—And I’ve tried to move the reservation, rang the restaurant. But, they’re booked up and I really want to take you there—”

“—Frankie?”

You brush the fabric, the hanger holding on to the top of the door with sheer will as you do so between thumb and finger. Half-smiling—even still. Listening to the way he takes a breath, to the way he cares so much.

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, swallowing, shoving the dismay down. “I… promise.”

The voice you hear back is soft. So tinged with sadness, and regret, you half-want to call him Butterscotch just to make him laugh. “You sure?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you reassure him, comfort him—voice steady as you do so, "We can reschedule. It's not a problem."

A moment of silence follows, with a sense of letdown settling in the air like fog. It sits there, resting, hanging. Because even if you know it’s just a minor adjustment, a twinge of disappointment still seeps in. Not so much a sharp pang, but a lingering weight that makes your shoulders sag, as though everything had deflated like a balloon slowly losing air.

“Baby… I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, a smile making its way onto your face despite the circumstances. "There's always next time."

“Not drove you away then?” he half-laughs, one you imagine is a little forced.

“Not even a little bit.”

Sighing, you swear you hear him smile with it. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You grin, nothing but light and easy, “Just make sure next time you can show up, that’ll be a good start."

Frankie laughs, it flowing down your ear before it’s joined by a promise that he will and he can call you later, if you like? A thing which sounds like a good idea, even more so when it's followed by the fact he wishes he could stay—talk, but you know. Nodding to no one but yourself as you bid him goodbye, leaning against the wall—hanging up, full of bittersweet.

You let your head fall against it, rolling it there as your eyes flick back up at your clothes, lingering over it.

And an idea appears.

It grows—smothering over sadness before it blooms.

Then, you’re grinning. One almost as large as you do when he makes you giggle. Almost.

You’re thankful the sign still says open when you step out of your car—fingers tugging at fabric, ensuring it sits how it’s supposed to.

Even for a surprise, you wanted to look as picture-perfect as you should have been entering the restaurant. The paper bags catch your leg, noise crinkling against the air as you yank on the handle—entering, being washed in wood chippings, bleach and paint.

For a moment, one stuck between time and space, you look. Glance. Unsure where to find him, until your eyes land on him and find his head lifting at the sound of your entering.

Whatever Frankie had been in his hand dropped, all forgotten. His mouth parting at the sight of you. Taking you in. Sweeping brown, surprised eyes all over you as heat rises up your neck and brushes over your ears.

“I know I’m a little overdressed for buying a hammer, but…”

Mouth falling open, he looks torn between grinning and speaking. “What are you…”

Shrugging, watching his eyes roam up and down the outfit you’d chosen. The one that had been on the hanger for days—one you’d not thought could be replaced by anything else.

“Well,” you begin, smirking, “My date got caught up at work and I’d been really looking forward to seeing him.”

Frankie smiles, hand rubbing along his jaw as he stares.

“But then, someone told me there’s a secret restaurant here. One behind a metal door that says, Staff Only?”

Dropping his hand, and swiping his tongue across his lips—he slowly moves around the register. Coming to join you as you hold the bags up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the shop floor tiles as you meet him halfway.

“I also suspect that you might not have eaten, since you've been alone for most of the day.”

It’s at that moment his stomach roars. It grinds, what you assume is coffee, before groaning inside of him as he claps a hand on his apron.

“The only problem is,” you say, narrowing your eyes, scrunching your nose. “I… I didn’t know what you would like, so I might have bought a ridiculous amount of food.”

Taking a bag, his eyes widen when he opens it. “You’re staying, right? To help me?”

Reaching inside the bag he didn’t take, you pull out a single, battery-powered candle. “It’s a date.”

He gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I just need to lock up," he says.

You watch with a flutter of excited nervousness as he moves around the store, flipping the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed', and then securing the door. The lock clicks into place, echoing in the quiet store. He then proceeds to shut off the lights, plunging the store into a soft, inviting darkness lit only by the glow from the streetlights outside.

Turning back to you, he extends a hand.

"Shall we?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation. You place your hand in his, feeling the warmth spreading through your fingers.

As you walk together towards the back of the store, a tinge of excitement flutters in the air. The 'Staff Only' sign looms above the door like a secret entrance to a place you shouldn't be, but with a gentle gesture, he ushers you inside.

You don't miss the way his fingers brush your lower back, the heat they ignite up your spine as his chest meets your back, face close to yours. Lingering, eyes sweeping over you.

"Lemme just..." he whispers, elongating it, before he bends to pull you a chair out—one with three wheels, no back—fingers sliding up to brush over your shoulders as you sit down.

“Careful.”

Swallowing, you suppress the effect he's having on you, forcing a smirk. “Oh, I’ll try, Morales. Don’t want you to have to fill out the accident book.”

“Harold would murder me.”

Snorting, you watch him join you—taking the candle from your hand, flicking it on and placing it directly in the middle before the two of you begin taking food out. He gazes at bundled packaged burgers, stealing a fry from the bag before it’s laid out over the desk.

“So, as it’s our third date.” His eyes flick to you, mid-bite of his food as you twirl a fry in your fingers. “I get to ask you challenging questions, right?”

“Fuck,” he says, under his breath. Grinning. “Alright, let me have it.”

Nudging him with the tip of your shoe he laughs. “Okay. You and Luca’s mom?”

“Ah.”

Grabbing a napkin, he wipes his mouth. “You don’t have to worry.”

“And as everyone in history knows, those words are how people stop worrying.”

Smirking, he turns on the wheely stool, facing you, knees abutting yours. “We haven’t been together since he was born—we… we weren’t even together by the time he reached six months. He… he doesn’t know any different. We have things we say, and truly, she’s a fantastic mom, we have a great co-parenting situation.”

“Okay.”

His fingers land on your knee, dancing over them, light and feathery as he sighs. Heavy. Weighted. It makes you swallow, makes you want to dig your fingers into your leg to stop yourself worrying, thinking—overdramatising whatever it is.

Scratching his head, he rolls his tongue from his cheek to the front of his teeth. “I wasn’t a good person then… a lot of shit had happened—I’d left the service, found myself… haunted, I guess? Me and her, we met, we… seemed good. She seemed good. And then, I…”

Your hand slides over his, one of your fries still in hand as you do. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to.”

Nodding, he half smiles.

And then he does.

He tells you about his days in the army—and the sleepless nights when he was back home. The sense of loss he felt without it, the uniform that meant nothing when he joined a regular job. How flying helicopters for people with money who had no cares in the world began to make him hollow, carving a piece inside of him that didn’t fill with laughter at barbecues and trivia nights. He tells you how he’d rambled to someone about the lack of sleep, before he found a little white bag in his locker—an opportunity, a chance to not overthink.

That it had stayed there for days, almost a week until there had been news about someone he had once worked with.

Then he explained how it wasn’t a problem, but it also very much was. How he was lost, drowning—that people reached out, but the lights had been on, but no one was home. How it became a coping mechanism, a small dose to take the ache away—before he learnt he was going to be a dad. Her worries about him making her ignore the signs, much further on than they thought—and then, one month later, how he failed a drug test.

Trace amounts, barely anything, but still plenty.

His license, revoked—paused. His future dwindled, a baby due to arrive, one he’d heard the heartbeat off at the same time as he found himself at the threat of being alone. A second chance dangled, offered—do better, Frank. Don’t be selfish.

“—but, I didn’t change. Don’t change.”

Your heart falls, and descends.

Watching him shake his head, grabbing a handful of fries before stuffing them into his mouth as he chews, and you pick at one from your own box.

“Things were good—Luca, he had ten toes, ten fingers. He was great, happy. It made us being good seem real? But, it lingered, y’know? If work kept me later, there was this distrust, this question. And I couldn’t blame her, didn’t. Never would either. I broke that, I know I did. But…”

“It wasn’t healthy?”

Shrugging, he swallows, before nodding. “Then, I helped a friend, one from my squad. Had to… it was dangerous. I was gone longer than I said—and she worried, panicked. I knew before I left that when I got back I’d likely find my stuff packed—not that I blame her. I know we tried. But, I broke it. But now we’re better… better co-parents than partners, you know?”

Nodding, you chew, rolling the salt on your lips together. A beat passes, ice clanging in the drinks, cartons scratching against the table as the two of you eat.

“That was probably a lot.”

“It’s okay. Are you… are you good now?”

Nodding, he chews another fry. “Clean since Luca was born. Five years, fifty-seven days.”

“Well, I know this might be weird to say, but I’m proud of you.”

Smiling, he chews his cheek, meeting your eyes for the first time since he began sharing. “You’re a bit too good for me, you know that?”

Smirking, you steal one of his fries. “Oh, a hundred per cent. You might have a bunch of followers and good taste in paint colours, but did you know that I can sand down a dresser to the point a prominent Instagram DIYer has told me ‘I did a good job’.”

“Doesn’t sound that trustworthy. Bet he doesn’t know what you call wrenches.”

Pouting, you narrow your eyes as he laughs. “Thank you for telling me.”

Nodding, he rolls his lips. “I had to… ‘cause… are we enacting third date-talk honesty?”

“Of course.”

Half-smiling, he nudges himself closer on the stool. “I really like you.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you look up at the ceiling, before grabbing his knees and wheeling yourself closer. “I quite like you too.”

Smile spreading, he places his hands on top of yours. “Yeah? Because I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to… run from all of that.”

Smirking, you try to move closer, even if the wheels of both stools try to prevent you. “Did you know, honesty is really, really hot?”

Brows raising, chin lifting, his lips slide further into his cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad too.”

Swallowing, his fingers slide in between yours, eyes flicking from one eye to the other. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous, that.”

“Well, I’ve seen your house now.”

Nodding, you smile. Feeling it, whatever he’s going to say, ask, think lingering in the silence. His grin widens, a spark igniting in his eyes that sends a rush of warmth through you.

“So, I think it only seems fair you see mine.”

Wiping your hands on your napkin, licking your lips as you cross a leg over the other. “Well, for fair sake I definitely should.”

“Do you want to… now?”

“Tonight?”

Nodding, that same flush of pink rises up his neck, up his jaw.

Smirking, you loosen your hand from his—resting your palm on his cheek, elbow on your knee. “I’d like that.”

The car ride to his should be tense, but it isn't.

Instead, it's filled with soft laughter, teasing comments and shared glances—your fingers twitching, wondering whether a hand on his knee is too soon. Even when everything else feels so normal, natural.

When he pulls up outside his place, anticipation fills the air—a rush of warmth flooding through you, making your fingers clamp together and stare out at the place as he says, this is it.

It’s nice, well-kept—charming, from what you can already tell. Eyes spot chalk drawings on the patio, lit up by the outside lights and a plastic red car close to where he's parked.

“Luca has some good parking,” you smile, pointing to it next to you both. “You learn from him, or?”

Smirking, he undoes his belt. “Maybe, I taught him how to park. I’m very good with heavy transportation.”

You don’t miss the way he emphasises the sentence. Your 'oh' is swallowed by the sound of him opening the door and telling you to wait.

Watching as he moves around the vehicle, his eyes holding yours. Earlier, you'd been thankful that the rain had taken a pause; now you wished it hadn't stopped its lashings that glued clothing to skin, thighs pressing together on the seat before the door beside you opens.

“What a gentleman.”

“Just wanted another chance to chance to check you out, really.”

Swatting him, he takes your hand, his laugh blending with yours as he leads you up to his front door.

If he feels nervous, he doesn’t show it. Finding his keys and slides one into the lock without missing. Opening the door without as much as an awkward shove of the door.

If anything, it’s effortless. It not even squeaking or catching as he pushes it open.

“It’s not a lot…” he begins.

But he couldn’t be more wrong.

It’s cosy and warm. Exuding an unmistakable homeliness that immediately comforts you. Dark woods, off-whites, and splashes of orange, caramel, and greens intertwine harmoniously, creating a space that feels both freshly decorated and deeply loved. A balance you assume exists because of him being the one to bring it all together, knowing from the videos you've seen how talented he is.

As you glance around, you begin to see the traces of the Frankie you’ve been getting to know. Photographs of him at the beach, with his son, with friends and more with Luca at varying ages.

Then, there are the plants. An assorted mix of them, some big that you remember from photos, some greener than others—some tall and in plants with animal faces like raccoons and beavers, others in decorative pots placed on shelves.

As you step in further, you spot furniture you recognise from videos—even noting the stacked pile of books from a photo he’d shared recently and a record player on a side table.

“C’mon, let me show you around.”

He leads you, hand in yours, showing you his well-equipped kitchen, and dining space. Occasionally, he points things out, like the markings on a wall he’s using to measure how tall Luca gets and the scuff marks from dragging the dining table in after varnishing it. Before finally, the two of you are outside the half-open door to his bedroom.

Frankie giving you a wink, bodies almost flush.

“That where the magic happens?”

“Not usually…”

"Maybe that's cause people haven't been saying the right magic words." Shrugging, you lick your lower lip, staring at the beading on the door. "I should tell you, I've heard I'm quite good at magic words..."

You let it linger, sit. Before you turn on your heel, fingers brushing over a table as you head back in the direction of his living room.

He follows, a step or two behind, letting you and your eyes capture all the personal touches before you feel fingers on your wrist, tugging you back, body flush to his.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, you find your throat dry—eyes flicking to his mouth.

“Go take a seat, I’ll bring us a drink.”

It’s soft, the nod you do as he slips his hand from your waist. You move, almost on auto-pilot, to sit down on his sofa, running your fingers over a cushion—one stitched with greens, golds and oranges.

When he reappears, you look up at him, noticing the hint of nerves in his gaze as you plaster on a reassuring smile as he places them down on the coffee table.

Slowly, you reach out, squeezing his hand, "Your home is lovely, Frankie."

He chuckles, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks as he joins sitting down. "Yeah?"

Nodding, you press your knee against his. “So.”

“So.”

With a smirk, you draw a measured breath. “I believe... I want to kiss you now.”

Swallowing, his gaze flickers to your lips, lingering, before snapping back up to your eyes. Warmth spreads over your cheeks, neck and ears. “I believe you should, Rainy.”

A response there, nestled between teeth and tongue, is muffled as his lips meet yours—for the first time in several days.

an: as a warning, the next chapter will include smut. if you wish to skip the smut, you can miss the chapter as there will be no other scenes. the following chapter will pick up the next morning.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy

[steleir]

sick of these posts yet? well too bad. i’m not done not when me along with some of my moots keep discovering more and more disgusting shit adults get away on this play for which is not ok.

i know a lot of people with disagree a lot on this one more than the others because in here i will put screen shots from someone’s blog and i don’t wanna see no anon in my inbox go “you can’t do that” well if i need it to show you how disgusting someone is and the people defending them are, how weird their posts are then i don’t care if i can’t or not.

thank you to @satorisoup and @omitea for providing me with these screen shots.

and lastly, report me, hate, block, un follow, i don’t care what drama this brings. i don’t care if i loose respect from moots or followers, this is something. i wholeheartedly believe is wrong, and im willing to loose this blog for it.

where do i even begin with this one?

maybe i’ll just start on why writing smut for minors is wrong.

first of all i gen see it as borderline pedophilia.like call that exaggerated this character looks like a minor. because they are a minor. “aging them up” is still them as a minor.

and i hen dc if your not going along with the manga. this character needs a CANNON time skip for this shit. sure, aging up is common, even in fluff, but that’s different. most fluff writer are minors themselves, they aren’t ADULTS writing PORN for MINORS. see the difference?

aging up is all imaginary, this character is still a minor.

and iv even seen people go as far as aging down adult characters. like thats just as a bad?? tf is wrong with yall???

a minors is not to be specialized, even if the manga artist does, why are you?

“well it’s not real”

warm i don’t give to flying fucks. it’s a problem whether you like it or not. their MINORS. need i say it again? MINORS.

now beginning with the screen shots i’m goin to start with these:

look at these. bakugo is 16. itadori is 15? who i t heir right minds commissions this as a person in their 20’s? especially the itadori one.

he’s 15 and your imagining him stuffed in your boobs? like hello? do you not see how wrong that is?

oh and also look at them? do they look aged? NO. FUCK NO. they still look like the do in the anime. and in the anime their MINORSSSSSSS.

i have no words for this one tbh. just fucking digusting.

i love how the creator saw this message and because they literally CANNOT defend themselves they post it. mot probably expecting a defense from their followers and moots.

look at the things underlined. this girl has many good points. but what did the creator do? ignore. not at all address what she said. simply laughing when in all honestly, she is the laughing stock.

shes over 25 years old obsessed with a 16 year old.

someone who is under the legal age.

a person who cant consent for themselves. “it’s fiction” erm idc.

“the is own has me rolling” girl go get a life. the person who sent the message is more than right. and you know that.

but your so fucking weird to the point you can’t let go of a character nine years younger than you.

this replies are so fucking funny.

every one of them talking about the fact she kink shamed or the insults she used but not at all addressing her point.

notice that? none of them had an answer. non of them tasked about the fact this girl point out the fact this over 25 yo was a hypocrite and literally a pedo.

why? because they are all immature adults who are blinded by hot MINOR CHARACTERS. these characters are not for you. sorry to break it to you.

these MINORS were not made for your digesting piss fantasies.

“she kink shamed after saying she wouldn’t!!” go cry to mommy kink shaming is no where near as bad as writing porn for a minor.

now, i’m not in the mha fandom. but i’ve watched some of it, and you have most of the villains AND the pro hero’s to simp for. why the fuck are you choosing the students? like girl. bffr.

that entire message and alll that anon cared about was the smut with a piss kink the person was talking about?

like? i can’t even.

notice the fact she ain’t addressing what the person who sent her the message sent?

why? because she obviously knows it’s wrong. she obviously knows. every adult on here knows.

but they are head empty that they laugh it off and brush it off bcs the person is a minor and still attending school so it really dosent matter what we say.

like us minors aren’t idiots. and bye the looks of all these posts it seems we have WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY more common sense than all of you combined.

#✦ : important! #mha smut #mha x you #mha x reader #mha #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha x you #bllk smut #bllk you #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock #bluelock x you #bluelock x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 1

Series Masterlist

➪in which joey starts school and clay realizes he might have to listen to his mothers advice of hiring a sitter, but quickly warms up to that after idea meeting a seemingly sweet girl while on his way to work.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Clayton Beresford, get up,” the sound of his mother’s voice made Clay cringe as he grabbed his pillow and placed it over his head. “Clay, get up. Joey has been asking for his dad for the last half hour, you need to get up.”

Clay groaned as she ripped the pillow away from him and threw it on the opposite side of the bed before walking over to the curtains and pulling them open. “Mother,”

“Don’t mother me, Clay,” Lilith scolds as she moves back around the bed and stands over him. “You need to get ready for work, and get Joey ready for school, it’s his first day.”

With a huff, Clay sits up and throws the sheets off him. “You couldn’t have gotten him dressed for me?”

Lilith scoffs, walking towards the door. “I made him breakfast, you can pick out his clothing,” and then she was gone and Clay was left alone in the bed that felt all too big for just one person. 

Looking around his room, he sighs at how messy it had gotten since his last attempt at cleaning it. He grew up damn near spoiled and never had to worry about cleaning his room or making his bed, so now at the age of twenty seven, he was terrible at both those tasks. 

He looks over at the right side of the bed, and more specifically at how empty it was. That spot should be filled. She should be here, with him and with their son, but life really enjoys playing with him sometimes. 

Sighing again, he gets up and throws on his work clothing, which really felt more like a formal event outfit than anything else. He finishes buttoning up his white shirt as he enters the kitchen, his eyes instantly landing on his son. “Hey, buddy,” he greets as he leans down and kisses the top of his head. “Did you have a good sleep?”

Joey nods and sets the crust of his toast down on the plate. “I’m still tired,” 

Clay laughs and picks up the half eaten toast. “You are?” He asks and finishes his kids breakfast, his mind going back to when he was Joey’s age and also didn’t like crust. “You went to bed pretty early last night. Unless you were just pretending to be asleep when I came and checked in on you.”

Joey shakes his head quickly as Lilith laughs from her place at the sink, her arms crossed as she blows on the coffee mug in her hand. “No, dad,” he answers as he stares up into Clay’s matching blue eyes. 

“No?” Clay hums, picking up the now empty plate and walking over to his mom. 

She stays still as he reaches around her to set the plate down in the sink, a teasing smile on her lips. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger,” she stated. “You’re aware of that, right?”

Clay laughs and nods, looking back at his son as he scribbled on a blank piece of paper with a yellow crayon. “I know,” he agrees, looking down at his mom’s attire. “Are you staying home today?”

Lilith glances down at her housecoat clad body with a shrug. “I’m wrapped around that kid’s finger, too,” she grinned, finishing off her coffee and putting the mug in the sink as well. “I’ll get my work done early so I can be here when he gets home, but I really think it’s time we start looking for a more stable sitter. I know you don’t like talking about it, but I think you should consider hiring a nanny.” 

Clay sighs and moves away, standing behind Joey and placing his hands on the back of his chair. “I said I’d think about it,” he muttered. “I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.”

“It’s not a bad idea to have someone here to look after him while we’re at work. Someone to get him to and from school, helps get him ready in the mornings,” she pointed out. “Like a nanny.”

“He doesn’t need a nanny,” Clay mumbled, reaching a hand up to flatten out Joey’s messy hair. “I don’t want my son growing up in that kind of environment.”

“You had a nanny when you were little, Clay,” she reminded as she moved away from the sink. “You turned out pretty well.”

“I’m a single dad at the age of twenty seven, mother,” he rasped. “And I still live with my mother.”

“I told you I never liked that girl, Clayton,” she scolded as she wrapped her robe tighter around her body. “And I also told you that this is your home for as long as you want it to be. You want to move out, fine, but then who will be there to help look after Joey? No one. Unless you listen to me and hire someone to do it.”

And then she was disappearing down the hall to get ready for the day. Grunting under his breath, Clay leaned down and pulled Joey’s chair out. “Come on, let’s get you dressed,” he held his hand out, grinning when the much smaller one grabbed it. 

-

The phone rang five times before Clay was sent to voicemail. 

He wasn’t surprised, but the silence still irked him. Glancing at his driver, Clay turned a bit and tried to make it a little more private, but he was literally in the backseat of a car on his way to work. How private could it really be? “Hey, it’s me again,” he started, not missing the way Rick, his driver, glanced back at him. “Joey started school today. Can you believe it? Our son started school.” 

Rick straightened up at the harsh tone of Clay’s voice and quickly put his attention back on the busy street of New York, surely sensing that this would not be a nice voicemail. 

Clay paid him no mind as he continued, “He’s four now. Did you know that? You should, he’s your kid, too. You should know how old he is and you should’ve been there for his first day of school,” 

He wasn’t entirely sure if his ex even still used this number, or if he was just making these calls for nothing. She must, seeing as her voicemail hasn’t gotten full yet, and he’s been giving her these updates for the past three years now as a way to cope with not having her in his life anymore. 

Clay knew she didn’t deserve to know about what’s been going on in Joey’s life, and he knew he shouldn’t be wasting time leaving her messages, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t know if he wanted to rub it in her face about how good of a parent he turned out to be, or how amazing their son is. He just wanted her to know that she royally fucked up when she decided to leave before Joey even turned one. 

“You should’ve been there, Sam,” he said again, his voice wavering as he let his anger that had been building up since she left get to his head. “How the fuck could you do that to him? To us?”

Clay looks out the window and sees that he’s almost to the building in which he would be spending the next eight hours in. 

Sighing, he wraps up the call. “Whatever, Sam. I hope you realize one day how much you’ve missed out on and how much our son has missed out on,” he muttered. “Not that you even care. Delete this, listen to it, do whatever you want. That’s what you’re best at.”

And then he hung up and was left feeling even worse. 

It always ended that way, with him heated up with anger and with Sam probably feeling great at the fact that she is still able to rile him up without even being there. 

Rick pulls off to the side of the street and looks back at Clay. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Beresford,” 

Clay scoffs quietly, shrugging off his jacket since his skin had begun to sport a thin layer of sweat from how annoyed he got during the one-sided call. “Mr. Beresford was my dad,” he says, leaning back against the seat. He wasn’t ready to go in there yet. He was so frustrated and didn’t want to accidentally go off on anyone in that building because he still isn’t over his ex. “It’s just Clay. You know that.”

“I do,” Rick nods, sending him an apologetic smile in the rearview mirror. “Everything alright, Clay?”

Nodding, Clay looks out the window. “Everything is fine,” he lies as he watches a girl pace back and forth on the sidewalk. New York was a massive place and not easy to navigate through, but it was clear that she was new here. She wore a pale pink skirt and a white top that ended just above the hem of the skirt, which is not something people here usually wear. 

Clay has lived here a long time and the people of New York were stereotypical in the way they wore their favorite sports teams logos on their clothes or baggy jeans and a t-shirt. 

Most of them didn’t care and didn’t put a lot of effort into their appearance, simply because no one would notice. It was why he got a lot of stares whenever he walked around in dress pants and a tie. 

The girl looked confused and lost and Clay felt a bit bad for her. Even he got a bit turned around at times, and he’s lived here his whole life. He owns half of it, too. 

He also couldn’t ignore how pretty this girl is. 

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen his ex in years and he hadn’t let himself look at any of the women in the city as a potential partner as he was overly protective of both his son and his heart. 

Or maybe it was because he simply felt bad for the girl and her clear lack of directions. 

Whatever it was, it had him opening the car door without much of a second thought. 

-

“Fuck,” you muttered as you looked up at the street sign then back at the paper in your hand. 

After living in New York for the last couple weeks, you were beginning to think you would never get to know your way around it. The place was massive and so confusing to navigate through if you didn’t know where you were going, and you clearly didn’t. 

You had been waiting to hear back from this job for days now and when you were finally given a chance for an interview, you couldn’t figure out how to get there. Your coffee did nothing to wake your brain up enough for you to be able to think clearly, and you debated on just throwing the rest of it away, but you were raised not to waste food or drinks when there are others who are less fortunate than you.

With an annoyed sigh, you stopped walking and stared down at the page again, not paying any attention to the car you were now standing beside as the door opened and someone stepped out. 

You don’t look up from the paper as you move forward and walk straight into another person, your coffee slipping from your hand and spilling onto the pristine white shirt of a man. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, not noticing that the page that held the address had also gotten soaked from the spill. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

It was the least of your worries as your eyes trailed up and met a pair of blue ones. Your breath hitched as the stranger smiled and shook his head as if he didn’t care at all that his white shirt was now stained with warm coffee. “It’s okay,” he said and his voice lived up to his appearance. Dreamy. Hot. Intimidating, even. 

“That looks expensive,” you think out loud when you look back down at his ruined button up, then quickly wipe the worry off your face and replace it with fake confidence. “Which is totally fine, I can pay to have it fixed or cleaned or…whatever.” Really, you most likely couldn’t afford to do that, but he didn’t need to know that.

The stranger laughed and it was probably the sexiest thing you had ever heard. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off and took the napkin from you when you held it out to him. 

You chew on your bottom lip as he begins to wipe up some of the coffee, though you both knew it wouldn’t do a thing to save the shirt. “Were you just going to work or something? I’d hate for you to have to wear that for the rest of the day,” you gestured to the mess on his shirt but he just shrugged and threw the napkin into the trash can that was nearby. 

“I was actually debating on whether or not I should go home and skip work, then I saw you and thought you looked a little lost,” he grinned at the way your face flushed and how your cheeks were tinted pink. “Thought I could help you out a bit but ended up wearing your drink, instead.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m so sorry,” 

“It’s fine,” he brushed you off again then looked a bit hesitant as he added, “I’m Clay.” 

He holds his hand out to you, making you look down at it before back up at his eyes. “Y/n,” 

You shake hands and hate how you found yourself wanting to hold his for much longer than a few seconds. “So, in hopes I don’t sound like a total creep when I ask,” he begins, giving you a somewhat nervous smile. “Where were you trying to get to?”

Laughing, you shake your head and look down at the ruined paper. “No, not at all,” you say, throwing the paper into the trash as well. “It’s that obvious that I’m lost, huh?”

Clay shrugged again, stepping back towards the car and opening the backseat door. “Only a little,” he teased and pulled out his jacket, efficiently covering up most of his shirt. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Maybe I can point you in the right direction, if you want.”

You knew you were late for the interview, but you wanted to stay and talk with him for a bit longer. What was wrong with you? Why do you always do this around cute guys? Though, calling Clay cute felt a bit like an understatement. He was by far the hottest man you had ever seen in your life. “Please,” you say quietly, stepping towards him. “I was trying to get to this interview at the Milton Hotel, but the directions were hard to understand even before I got coffee all over them.”

Clay laughs and closes the door, turning around and nodding towards the intersection down the street. “You were pretty close, believe it or not,” of course, you wanted to say but held back. “You just take a left at the lights and go straight for about three blocks until you reach a bookstore that’s across from the old jail.”

He turned back to face you and you realized you were barely paying attention to his directions as you were far too focused on how good his backside looks. 

“The hotel is above the bookstore,” he finished and you gave him a grateful smile. “So, not too far now.”

“Thank you,” you say and look down the street, not quite ready to leave the presence of him. 

Maybe he didn’t want you to leave, either. “What’s the interview for? If you don’t mind me asking,”

You wave your hand. “Not at all,” you say again. “Just some babysitting gig. I finally got my CPR certificate and know how busy New York is. Thought it would be a good place to start.”

-

What are the odds..

Clay nods and tries to come off as casual as he leaned against the backdoor of the car. “Babysitting? Do you have much experience?”

“Yeah, about three years worth,” you answer, fidgeting with your fingers and Clay found himself hoping he wasn’t making you uncomfortable with all his questions. It had been too long since he actually let himself talk to a girl for more than a minute since Sam, so he was glad to see he was still able to decently hold a conversation. “I did it a lot through high school.”

“Yeah? When’d you graduate?” He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know so much about you, but it was clear the two of you got along pretty well for two strangers. He was sure he could hook you up with a job if you didn’t get this one, and now he was once again wondering why he cared so much. 

“Two years ago,” you replied and it didn’t seem like you were uncomfortable with him at all, so he decided to try his luck. 

“Well, I hope the interview goes well,” he says and thinks about how he wouldn’t mind having someone like you around his son for the hours he was at work. Though Clay has some massive trust issues, he knew he would need to find someone to look after Joey soon. “And if it doesn’t, there’s many other opportunities that are waiting for you in this city.”

“Yeah?” You gave him a teasing smile and Clay had to physically hold back a smirk in response. “Like what?”

Clay stiffened a bit as he chose his words carefully. “You said you’re a babysitter, right?” And when you nodded, he continued, “My son started school today, but he still needs someone to watch him until I get back from work. If that is something you’re interested in, there’s an opportunity for you right there. But I’m sure the interview will go great.”

You study his face for a bit, making Clay think he said something wrong, before you grin up at him. “Thanks for the boost of confidence,” you soften your smile. “I might take you up on that offer, if your kid is cool, that is.” 

Clay laughed as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. “He’s the coolest kid in New York, that’s for sure,” he says and hands his phone to you. “Let me know how it goes? And if you’re interested in looking after the coolest kid you’ll probably ever meet for a few hours of your day.”

Your laugh reaches his ears just as you take his phone and quickly type in a number, one he hoped was actually yours and not a fake one. He couldn’t lie, it wasn’t often he asked for girls’ numbers, but you seemed sweet and like you knew what you were doing. Except for when it came to reading directions, but even that was understandable. He was also doing this to give his poor mom a break, and to make sure his son was in good hands when he was gone. “I’ll text you,” you promised as you handed him back his phone. “Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it.”

He took his phone and pocketed it. “It was nice to meet you, Y/n,” 

You begin backing away as you smile at him. “You too,” you wave. “Sorry again about your shirt. You wear that coffee well, if it helps.”

Clay laughs again as you turn around and begin heading down the street in the direction of the lights. 

The window of the car rolls down and he briefly hears Rick clear his throat. “I’ll pick you up at four, Mr. Beresford?” 

And Clay was far too distracted to be able to correct him again, so he just nodded before tearing his eyes away from your retreating form and heading into the building. 

-

Clay had gotten held up today and he had to text his mom and ask if she could pick Joey up from school. He knew it would be so much easier if he had a stable sitter to ask, and he was quickly beginning to agree with his mothers requests of hiring one. 

While Clay wanted to be the one to pick Joey up from his first day, he was glad he would have his grandma there. He knew his mom was probably his son’s favorite person, and he couldn’t even get mad at that fact because Clay had to admit; Lilith Beresford was an amazing woman and an even better mom.

As he began packing up his things, his mind drifted back to you for what felt like the tenth time since meeting you all those hours ago. He didn’t know what it was, but Clay felt captivated by you. 

Maybe it was because he hadn’t let himself get close to another girl since Sam, let alone have a full on conversation with one. 

Maybe it was because he found you cute and sweet and a bit funny.

Either way, he was thinking about you as he shrugged his jacket back on and over his stained shirt at the same time his phone went off. 

He checked it as he turned off the lights to his office, a genuine smile finding its way onto his lips as he read the text, 

The interview was a fail. I think it was over before it even began. Any chance I could set up one with you? Very curious about this supposed coolest kid in New York. 

And when you added a,

This is Y/n, by the way. The one who ruined your shirt because I have no sense of direction.  

He knew he was probably screwed. 

#clay beresford #clay beresford imagines #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford #Clayton beresford x reader #clayton beresford imagines #hayden christensen blurb #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen #awake 2007 #awake #in the way i need you series #in the way i need you