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loonylupinblack3 · 2 months

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Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe.

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness.

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fluff #f1 fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

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drconstellation · 3 months

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The Cupperty Ceremony

Every bit of food and drink in both seasons has a metaphorical significance, even if you don't realize it.

Tea is no exception. Its one of the few times an eastern philosophy creeps into Good Omens, but it still meets with a western ideal. It's also intrinsically linked to Aziraphale and his affected British style.

Coffee gets more of a focus in S2, and has a specific meaning around freedom and liberty, whereas tea appears more in S1. But the metaphorical meanings around them are fairly consistent across both seasons, with stereotypes for the British drinking tea and the Americans only drinking coffee put aside.

Lets start with Muriel on the doorstep of the bookshop, at the beginning of S2E3, asking to come in, because its noisy outside.

Aziraphale, after a moment to take in who they are, is the epitome of politeness as he welcomes them inside.

You might think "well, isn't this just Aziraphale being typically Aziraphale?" in this moment, but soon we shall see its a relevant part of a ritual going on here.

The bookshop is noticeably quieter on the inside. There is just the two of them. Aziraphale offers Muriel tea in a fine china cup, with a blue pattern, and gold trim.

Muriel is not sure what to do with it so they just hold it. Aziraphale makes a point of demonstrating what should be done: He tells Muriel the tea is "to drink," then looks at it, sips, and makes both an appreciative expression and sound.

Muriel seems repelled by this, and declares they are just going to look at theirs. Aziraphale patiently, still polite, lets them do so.

Up to this point, there are actually two levels of meta happening at the same time. The first one is a tea ceremony (which I had a go at once before, and got the wrong one!) and the other is about trying to get Muriel to take the first step in "going native."

A tea ceremony always starts with a courteous invitation. The tea is prepared, then served and offered to others. It should be taken in a tranquil, peaceful setting, perhaps in a harmonious natural environment (such as a Garden) and with only a few people at a time (two people is considered a "superior" experience.) The tea ware is important, as it should allow the fragrance of the tea to be appreciated (we have some fine china, Heavenly-coded.) Appreciation of the tea's qualities is undertaken, first with the eyes, then by smell, then tasting. It is considered an art, a process of spiritual enjoyment, a means of cultivating the moral character - and then Crowley bursts into the bookshop with his flirty comment about going by train and breaks the fragile connection Aziraphale had been trying to establish with Muriel.

*sigh* Timing, Crowley! Can't you see I'm in the middle of trying to subvert a fellow angel here?

I was recently reminded that tea and coffee have a connection in GO, in that that they are both linked to the American War of Independence. While the speech that gives us "Give me liberty, or give me death!" conjures the stormy winds of war sounding trouble approaching, the Boston Tea Party was the initial spark of the brewing conflict.

I realize there is a LOT of stuff written about this particular bit of history, and it can get quite political even in these modern times, so let me frame it in a Good Omens frame of reference if you aren't familiar with it - the colonists in the New World were upset at how they were being ruled from afar by the British and staged a small protest about some new laws imposed on them by dumping ship-loads of valuable tea leaves (a daily consumable pleasure people had become hooked on) into Boston Harbor on the night of 16th December 1773. To disguise themselves they dressed themselves as indigenous people, or "native Americans" as one might have said. This was just the beginning of further rebellion that led to war a few years later.

So here is another reason Aziraphale offers tea to Muriel, and not cocoa; he can see how fascinated they are with with everything Earthly around them, and he hopes to ignite a spark of rebellion in them, too, by introducing them to the more civilized pleasures (*ahem*) that he knows and enjoys so well.

While there is little tea to be seen in S2, there is plenty to be seen in S1. Perhaps the most prominent one for this discussion occurs right near the beginning, when Gabriel surprises Aziraphale in the sushi restaurant in S1E1.

Aziraphale offers to tea to Gabriel, and Gabriel shuns it. He, like most of the angels we meet, have no real interest in Earth. It's "gross." Ah, well. He gets to change his mind in S2.

So where else do we see tea in S1?

The Four Horsepeople: War orders four teas, one black, and a cheese sandwich in the diner where they all meet up together for the first time on Earth. We don't know who the sandwich is for, but I'm going to guess its for Famine. Reasons below, with Shadwell. (Cheese and tea make a nice savoury pair for a snack, if you haven't tried it. I'm partial to tea with cheese and crackers on the side from time to time.)

The Tibetan Tunnelers were on tea break from digging tunnels all over the Earth when we meet them, where they mention they were transported into the tunnels when they themselves stopped for tea back in their real lives on the surface.

Shadwell's infamously sweet tea, with either nine sugars or condensed milk, needs a mention as well, as it appears several times. Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel-character, living on the fringes of society and starving for attention, even though he makes feeble swipes at Madam Tracey's attempts to care for him. The sugar represents the amount of care or "sweetening up" he needs.

When he first meets Newt he gets the young man to buy him a tea and a packet of cheese and onion crisps. Remember the cheese sandwich War ordered for Famine? A packet of cheese flavoured crisps is a parallel here. Newt has turned up and finally given someone Shadwell someone to sink his teeth into.

Finally, we need to return to Crowley - its coffee, as black as his soul for him, please, and extra strong (six shots is for the number of Hell.)

Because he's already "gone native," just like Aziraphale, and he wants to maintain his freedom. He's left the Garden, and Heaven, behind him, and he'll do anything to keep it that way, thank you.

I'd like to thank my mutual and other food meta writer @vidavalor for discussing some of this off-list some time ago. We mostly see things the same way, I believe, but one must tread one's own path sometimes. They have some different ideas around some of this, but I'll let them say it in their own words.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #muriel #gabriel #four horsepeople of the apocalypse #shadwell #the tibetan tunnelers #and a cheese sandwich #six shots of espresso #gone native #gross matter #it's what humans do #tea ceremony #cup of tea #cupperty

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sunshine-for-serotonin · 9 months

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Shamefully Rollo is one of my favs, so I mean how about a prompt on Yandere!Rollo bring clingy to Yuu

Rollo post-festival being friends with Yuu and it becomes something more(plus angst with yk him being very two faced w/ trauma and all 🤷‍♀️)

this one is more focused on the first prompt, but I also sorta did my own thing, but I’m proud of it!!! Enjoy, lovey!

{takes place after the Glorious masquerade event, and based on an idea from another writer where Rollos punishment is to attend NRC.}

warnings: yes, this is yandere content, I’m a yandere blog who just happens to write my characters soft. Thoughts of somnophillia, Rollo is a heavy worshipper, male masturbation, pathetic Rollo (no different from canon), Rollo makes out with you while you’re in a deep sleep caused by a potion he slipped into your food, creepy Rollo, small hint of yandere Azul, Riddle, and Malleus, pussystarved Rollo are any of my characters NOT pussy starved? A little bit of masochist Rollo.

Fragile.

Rollo loved you, that was for certain.

He loved the way you fidgeted with your writing utensils or your clothes when you were bored and occasionally distracted, the way the sun caught in your stunning (h/c) hair, the way your gorgeous, dreamer eyes constantly flitted about and took in your surroundings with never fading intrigue and liveliness.

He loved the way you were laid stretched out in front of him currently, sleeping and unaware of him creeping about your room.

Ever since you had stepped onto the property of Nobel Bell College with those damned NRC students, he had taken a special interest in you. You, who was magicless and surrounded by wolves who would tear you apart and taint you at a seconds notice out of their own selfishness. In his eyes, you needed protection from harm. After all, you appeared to be such a fragile thing, but…

Rollo could not have been more wrong.

After the whole Crimson Lotus fiasco, the reveal of his plans to rid twisted wonderland of magic, the knowledge of what happened to his brother, it was you, you, magicless, wonderful, compassionate you who held his delicate and crumbling self together in the aftermath. It was you who cradled him in your arms like he was fine china and used your own body to shield him from the smoldering glares of your friends, as your kindness pierced his very soul like a dagger made out of pure gold.

It was you and you alone who could fill his body with such heat it nearly suffocated him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was your name he whimpered and sobbed pathetically to himself when he was breaking down or desperately rutting into his fist, the thought of your touch the only thing he could focus on.

When the time came for you and the rest of the NRC students to leave, it took every bit of Rollos self restraint to keep from lashing out, especially when a certain Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, and Riddle Rosehearts had all stood protectively in front of you when he tried to pull you aside to give you a personal farewell.

It would have been so easy to spirit you away to the bell tower or his room, if only he had been able to get you alone.

Rollo despised magic with all his being, and even more so he hated himself for being born with such a gift. However, as he watched you give him one last pitying look before finally departing, he was thankful for the small spell he murmured which transported a pair of your underwear from your packed clothes to underneath the fabric of his uniform. Now, Rollo was not a man who appreciated pity, and never saw himself as an individual who would accept such pathetic sentiments, but later that night as he held the fabric of your underwear to his face and frantically bucked his hips into his precum covered hand, he found himself thinking that he would accept any look from you that came his way as long as it was just that. That you were looking at him. Paying attention to him, even if it was delivered in the form of anger or the pity he seemed to despise so much.

Rollo had seldom gotten off before meeting you, and even then he never got off to anyone or anything, simply chasing his high with a blank mind for stress relief and always feeling revolted by himself afterwards. You had been the one to walk into his life and change that. Of course you had. Now Rollo struggled to go a day without cuming to the thought of you, imagining your gentle touch all over his aching body as you kissed him with as much love as he felt for you.

Enough love to harm someone for simply looking at you the wrong way.

Of course, Nobel bell college was not just going to ignore what he had done. Rollo knew better than that. It took the school a full week to decide upon a proper punishment, during which he only left his dorm for meals and to maintain the bell tower, which gave him plenty of time to think and fantasize about you. He wondered if you thought about him at all, about his thinly veiled fragile state that you had seen him in last.

Rollo was well aware that being transferred to NRC was supposed to be a punishment, that he would most likely be looked down upon and treated ruthlessly, but it took every ounce of self control to keep a giddy grin off of his face at the prospect of seeing you again. That being said, the shock that painted itself on his pale face again you opened the door to the Ramshackle dorm, the place he was now supposed to live, was near comical. Immediately, he had brought his purple handkerchief to his mouth, desperate to save face and regain his composure.

“Greetings, prefect.” Rollo had murmured hastily.

At seeing the normally cold former student president being so shy, a gentle smile had spread across your perfect, pretty lips. Lips that Rollo wanted to kiss him breathless, lips that Rollo had fantasized about covering the expanse of his flesh in bruising kisses and bites until he was so thoroughly marked up he couldn’t possibly hide them all.

Lips that Rollo was willing to kill for to keep all to himself.

“Hi, Rollo. How many times do I have to tell you that you can just call me (y/n)?” You had said, teasingly pulling his handkerchief away from his lips and flicking his nose before pulling him inside as he flushed crimson, bringing him to his current position.

—————————————————————————

Rollo was standing over your bed, watching as you slept without any interruptions, curtesy of the sleeping potion he had brewed just mere hours earlier. The moonlight spilled from your open curtains, highlighting your beautiful form as deep breathes moved your frame. Kneeling down beside the bed, Rollo moved his face close to yours and moved his hand to cup your face, absentmindedly stroking your cheek and swiping his tongue over his lips. You looked so peaceful and serene, not to mention warm underneath your blankets, and Rollo couldn’t deny himself the overwhelming urge to crawl into bed with you and cuddle. He had already moved a drugged Grimm away into another room, so there was nothing that could interrupt his time alone with you.

Eagerly, Rollo pulled back the covers on your bed and ensnared himself between your arms, your foreheads pressed against each other as he nuzzled your nose with his own. As his gaze fell to your lips, a small smile pulled on his own as he slowly started to lean forward, desperate for even just a little bit of your love whether fabricated or not. The moment his lips locked with yours, a needy moan reverberated from his mouth to yours. The relief of finally being able to touch you was getting to Rollo as his thoughts became cloudy and his legs tangled with yours. The kiss was clumsy and shaky, like a fawn learning to stand for the first time, as Rollo wrapped his arms around you and pressed his body flush against yours, his skin burning with heat. If you had been awake, you might have likened the way he practically devoured your mouth to the way of a man getting his first taste of food in years.

Moving one of his hands to yours, he slowly brought your entwined fingers up to his hair, positioning your digits in the white locks as he used his own to tighten your grasp and lightly tug on the sensitive strands, moaning as he imagined you lightly tilting his head back so you could access his neck and dig your teeth into his skin. The thought of his blood on your teeth was an appealing one, the scarlet red contrasting against your beautiful skin. Rollo made another keening noise, free to be as loud as he wanted as no one else who could wake up was around, when he brought your hand from his hair down to his throat and forced your fingers to squeeze around the sides of his neck like a vice, his mind wandering to different scenarios where you decided to dish out your own punishment to him for trying to hurt those disgusting magic users you called friends. He imagined your hand wrapped around his throat as you pulled him in for bruising kisses, only to tie his hands above his head, unable to touch you more than what you would allow.

“Did you really think I had forgotten about what you tried to pull?” You would mock as your nails traced teasing lines over his thighs as you straddled him.

“Are you really so foolish to believe that I wouldn’t notice that you swiped my underwear when I left? Honestly, you’re such a perv.”

Oh, and how Rollo would whine and beg for your touch, he thought to himself. How he would agree and beg for you to give him your own special brand of justice.

“Did you think I would just let you get away with it? Hm? No, no, no, my love, I was simply waiting for the perfect time to punish you, and now-” you would lean over him and harshly pinch the tip of his cock, causing him to whine and squirm as he looked up at you with teary eyes. “-I have you right where I want you.”

“Please, please, please, please! I was a fool! I know I was! Punish me! Do anything you want to me! Just let me prove myself to be worthy of you!”

He would tug on his restraints, but other than that, Rollo would be more than content to be your little plaything for as long as he lived.

Using his thumb and forefinger on his other hand, he gently grasped your chin and moved your jaw down before wrapping his arms around you again, connecting his lips in another searing kiss as his tongue began to invade your mouth. Small whimpers were muffled by your mouth as Rollo became all too aware of how pitifully hard he was in his pajama pants, his hips rolling against yours in a desperate attempt to gain friction from your sleeping form. Tears ran down his face as he separated from you for the briefest moment to tug himself out from beneath his waistband, his reddened cock already leaking precum. Rollo turned back to face you and immediately wrapped his arms around you once more, rutting against you as more moans and choked sobs spilled from his puffy lips before they were swiftly connected to yours with fervor.

“Oh, please, please, (y/n)! I need you so bad, but I don’t deserve it! I’m just a disgusting pervert who doesn’t deserve to be near you, someone so pure. Mm~ mmmm~ but I want it, want you! Need you! Mm, mm, mm, ah!~ please!~”

Moving his hips faster, Rollo began to pant and bite his lip, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh and causing it to bleed. Moving his tongue to lick up the blood and keep it from staining anything on your bed, Rollo imagined using the wet appendage to please you. Imagined kneeling between your spread thighs and desperately drinking down all that you had to offer as you pet his hair and praised him, calling him a good boy. Just the mere thought of getting your cum on his tongue made his cock twitch and his hips stutter in his rhythm, not like he had much of one to begin with anyway. He was trying to hold himself back, trying to make the moment last as long as possible, trying to do his best to learn how to hold out for you so that when the real thing happened he wouldn’t embarrass himself by cumming pitifully early. Trying wasn’t enough. While he was grinding against you, your pajama shirt had slid up slightly without Rollo noticing, and all it took was for the head of his cock to lightly brush against the warm skin of your tummy for his lips to part in a near shout of your name before a thick white liquid coated the area and his abdomen.

Coming down from his high, Rollo pulled you as close as possible as the last twitches and jerks of his hips died down. Finally collecting himself slightly, Rollo pulled his pajama pants back up and shifted his face down to the sperm that coated your skin. He could practically hear you say, “clean up your mess, Rollo. Like a good boy.”, and that’s exactly what he planned to do. Carefully, Rollo began to lick up the mess he had made over your soft skin, his eyes half lidded as the exhaustion of staying up so late began to take its toll on him. Gulping down the last of his cum, Rollo quickly crawled back up to your face and pulled you in for a long, loving kiss. The potion would keep you asleep for a good few hours still, and he had enough faith in his internal alarm clock to wake up before you and go back to his own room, so for now he was going to cuddle you and sleep in bed with you until then.

“Goodnight, (y/n). I love you.”

After pulling you into his arms and checking you over to make sure you were completely alright and comfortable, Rollo finally allowed his fragile and damaged mind to drift off to sleep.

#rollo flamm smut #yandere rollo flamm #rollo flamm #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut

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an0ther1 · 2 months

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Untitled

Leah x OC

This is the start of something Im playing around with. Feedback is appreciated, or ideas/suggestions.

She took one last look in the mirror. It was just dinner with a friend, but being a public figure meant more eyes were usually on her than most. A pair of comfortable designer jeans she had gotten from a photo shoot and a maroon fitted jumper made it look like she wasn’t trying too hard without looking like she didn’t care at all.

She tousled her hair one more time before grabbing her phone and heading to the door to grab her black winter coat and purse. The restaurant was only a few blocks from her place so it wasn’t worth the bother to drive. She didn’t mind the walk either, some of the houses on her street always went all out with their light displays and holiday decorations. Tonight was the first chance she got to walk by and enjoy them.

She was around the corner from the restaurant when her phone went off with a text notification. Even before she pulled it out of her pocket she knew what it was going to be.

Lessi: So sorry Lee, can’t make it tonight. Can we reschedule for later this week?

“Really Russo.” Leah said under her breath as she continued walking. She should have known Alessia was going to cancel. United was in town, which meant Ella was in town, and Alessia always ditched plans with others to hang out with her best friend instead. At least the last time this happened she gave a few hours advance notice. Not 5 minutes before they were supposed to meet.

Lee: Yeah, that’s fine. Tell Tooney I said hello, and I would appreciate it if she could put a few in against Chelsea tomorrow.

Leah stepped into the restaurant and headed for the bar. If she was going to be dining solo, there was no need to get a table. At least at the bar top her back was to the other patrons and she could enjoy a meal in relative peace.

The restaurant wasn’t terribly busy, but there was only one open seat at the bar. Thankfully it was at the end so she would only be sitting next to one stranger instead of being sandwiched between two. Leah crossed her fingers that the guy she was about to sit next to didn’t try and hit on her all night.

“This seat taken?” She asked politely walking up behind the seat.

“Nope. You’re more than welcome to it. Let me scoot over and give you a bit more room.” The person replied in a very obvious American accent and a deep but distinctly feminine voice.

“Oh.” Leah was caught off guard by her incorrect assumption. “I appreciate that, thank you.” She told the person as she took off her coat and placed it on the back of the chair.

After she was settled, a waiter behind the bar walked up. “Ms. Williamson, pleasure to see you again.” They said as they handed her a menu. “Start you with a drink?”

“Thank you. Glass of chardonnay, please.”

“Sure thing.” They said and then headed back down the bar.

“Regular here, huh?” The person next to her asked as they took a sip of their drink without looking in her direction.

“Not really. Only been in a few times.” She replied quietly, not really wanting to drawn much attention to herself.

“Ah, then clearly they watch women's football. As they should.”

And clearly this person knew who she was too.

“Mmm, yeah, I guess.” Was all Leah said in response.

There was silence after that, the stranger going back to their drink. They had their phone propped up on the bar watching what Leah guessed was a replay of the U.S. game against China PR from the week prior.

Leah couldn’t help herself. “What do you think of the Emma Hayes move?”

The stranger turned and faced her for the first time and Leah was struck by piercing blue eyes. Their hair was light brown and cut in a more masculine style, buzzed on the sides with the top longer and brushed back and towards one side. They had a strong jawline, but the rest of their features were what Leah would describe as soft almost. The perfect balance of masculine and feminine. Definitely not Leah’s type, but she wasn’t blind, they were very attractive.

“I think we’ll finally start utilizing the talent we have properly and stop banging our head against a wall repeatedly doing the same thing when it obviously doesn’t work. And I’m not naive, things aren’t going to change overnight. We have a young group we’re still trying to get together on the same page, but maybe they’ll all start going in the same direction at least.” The stranger finished.

“So you weren’t a fan of Vlatko I’m guessing?”

“Absolutely not. He was boring, soft, his lineups and tactics were questionable at best. I didn’t like the hire from the get go and I think he was there too long.” The stranger took a sip of their drink. “I think the powers that be got a much needed reality check. We can’t accept mediocrity and still expect to win. The women’s game has changed. Other countries are finally starting to invest in their women’s programs and youth levels bit by bit, and they are coming for the US, Germany. Being a top 5 team in the world doesn’t mean your success is a guarantee like it might have in the past.”

The waiter walked over then with Leah’s wine. She gave him her order, not bothering to even open the menu, just ordering the same chicken dish had gotten the last time she was there.

“What do you think of the move? Has a bit of an impact on league and country. Her leaving one rival and going to another so to speak.” The stranger asked over her glass before taking another sip.

“Oh, umm. It is quite the shake up. I admit I’m curious who will fill her role at Chelsea. But I’m not sure I have much to say about her taking over the U.S. team. At least not at the moment.” Leah really wasn’t looking to get into any type of potential disagreement or the like with an American about their countries football team. Keeping neutral was best.

“Fair enough.” The stranger gave a slow head nod and turned back to the game on her phone.

Leah took a sip of her wine and watched the game over the strangers shoulder. They must of had a 6th sense because they moved their phone in between the two of them without a word.

“They’re definitely disjointed. Struggling to connect between the defense and the attackers. And they can’t seem to string more than 3 passes together before they lose it.” Leah let her thoughts roll out.

“Like I said, not on the same page. There are a lot of fresh faces, which I love. But they need more time together for sure. That would help with the fluidity issue. They still need to get used to Sonnett playing the 6. I think her energy in the middle still catches some of them off guard. The speed of Thompson is hard for some to keep up with and anticipate what she’s trying to do. There is just a lot of change.” The stranger replied without so much as a glance in Leah’s direction.

It was oddly comfortable talking to a stranger about football as if Leah wasn’t really a part of that world. This person wasn’t asking her about her injury recovery, wasn’t asking or saying anything that actually had to do with Leah in any way. It was a rather nice change from her usual encounters with strangers who knew who she was and what she did for a living.

They continued watching the game in relative silence, just throwing out random comments about a play or player sporadically until Leah’s order arrived.

The waiter placed the plate in front of Leah on the bar. “Anything else I can get ya?” He asked.

“No, I think I’m alright for the time being. Thank you.” Leah gave him a polite smile.

The waiter turned to the stranger. “Another round RJ?”

“Nah, I think I’m good Colin.” The stranger pulled out their wallet and laid a bill on the bar top. “You know the drill.”

Colin, the waiter, let out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Keep the change. You keep tipping me like this I’m going to have to start buying your rounds.” He waved the bill at her. A £50 note.

“I might let you do that. Once. But we’ll see.” The stranger, or well, RJ as the waiter had called them, got up from their chair and began putting on a camel hair coat that had been laying over the chair.

As they buttoned up their coat, Leah could help but notice how tall they were. The waiter looked to be about 6 foot, and RJ didn’t seem too far off in comparison.

“Ms. Williamson,” RJ broke Leah out of her mental calculation on their height. “It was very nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime.”

“Oh, yes. It was nice to meet you as well, umm RJ?” Leah questioned. Not sure if she was to call them that or not.

“Enjoy your meal.” RJ bowed their head slightly, turned and walked away.

“RJ’s an interesting one.” The waiter said as they picked up the empty glass and wiped down the surface where RJ had been seated.

“How’d ya mean?”

“They have a drink or two, and then always hand over a £50 note. Won’t accept change even though the tab is usually less than £20.” He shook his head.

“Are they a regular?” Leah asked.

“Not sure if I would call them a regular just yet. They only moved from America about a month and a half ago, they said. Some digital job of some sort.” He shrugged. “Just holler if you need anything else.” He turned and headed back down the bar.

#woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #leah williamson #arsenal

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

Helloo!! Greetings! Could I interest you in making a request? It's about Ciel with a seamstress s/o, if that's ok with you of course.

Female Reader. We’re also gonna say that Lizzie isn’t his fiancé.

Ciel Phantomhive

He had met you when Mey-Rin was trying to do his laundry but stepped on one of the tails of his suit and ripped the fabric. He had heard from his aunt, Madame Red, that you were her go-to seamstress and that you could repair any tear, rip, or hole perfectly.

So, he had Sebastian escort him to your home. He obviously didn’t show up uninvited and wrote a letter to you beforehand. When you opened the door, the young master was taken aback at how young you looked. From his aunt’s words, he had thought you would be much earlier.

As you worked on his tailcoat, Sebastian had poured the two of you tea and you were all talking about what you did and how long you have been doing it. You explained that you mended clothing for every social class and how you made quite a lot of money from doing it.

Ciel actually appreciated your company because he felt as though he could really talk to you in a more unprofessional way. Like he didn’t have to remain within the confines of societal standards of the rich and noble. No, you were simply Y/N, a seamstress who knew how to get people to act like their true self.

He invited you to the Phantomhive Manor on multiple different occasions, and you invited him to your humble abode many times as well. You chose not to flaunt the wealth you have accumulated since you would lose your poorer customers.

Eventually, once you both begin courting each other, he would express his desires about you moving in with him so that he could make sure you stayed safe (and his). After all, he does work for the Queen and that means he is a target for a lot of corrupt people who want his power and influence.

He would take you to the market you frequent with your arm in his as you both shop for things you need. You try to refuse but Ciel insists, stating that a lord should help his lady. That statement just made you flustered, so you changed the subject by teaching him how to tell if the material was of good quality or not.

You often take over the chore of laundry to save Sebastian an ounce of the headache, and you’ve even helped the others with a few other chores as well. Since you had to be careful while sewing, you figured that you needed to apply that to carrying fine china around the Manor.

The young Phantomhive Lord said that you should be by his side instead of doing the chores that he pays the staff to do, but you kindly remind him that they need assistance and you are not a lady, so you are under obligation to help them under societal standards.

That is when Ciel decides to pull a very cheeky move and pulls you into a room, where he asks if you would like to become his fiancé and eventually his wife when you are both old enough. You were surprised, but said yes after tears started falling from your eyes.

#black butler #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji #ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel x reader #ciel #female reader #fem reader

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bethanythebogwitch · 10 months

Text

I talked before about fish Pokemon and that was great, but it's not the only mon series I like. So fuck it, fish Digimon time. This will definitely be less analytical and more me gushing about Digimon I like because I may be a bit out of it right now. Also sorry if I missed any.

Starting at rookie/child level we only have one fish but why would we need more when we have Swimmon?

Loot at it, it's amazing! It's some some sort of tropical fish, obviously, but with some embellishments, like the beak full of teeth. I love how colorful and pointy it is. It works great as a rookie for so many aquatic lines. I think some great lines for it would be Swimmon -> Coelamon -> Piranimon -> MetalPiranhimon or Swimmon -> Tobiumon -> DIvemon -> Surfimon. Speaking of which...

I'm going over champion/adult Digimon together and starting with Coelamon.

It's a coelacanth! Coelacanths are amazing as some of the last lobe-finned fish. In this case, the lobes have been exaggerated into proper limbs, like how lobe-finned fish are the ancestors of tetrapods through intermediate limbed fish stages like tiktaalik. Its armor might also be based on placoderms, extinct fish with bony armor.

We have surprisingly few shark Digimon, but one we do have is Tobiumon, and it's amazing.

A shark with arms that can fly with its fins is such a Digimon concept that all it needs are some guns to be peak Digimon. It even has a remora missile launcher on its chest!

The armor Digimon give us several fish, and while I don't think any of them particularly work as armor evolutions, they're fine as Digimon on their own. And before anyone mentions it, Tylomon is a tylosaurus, not a fish. The first is Manbomon, and while it's a terrible armor evolution for Patamon, A mola mola wearing boxing gloves is such a goofy concept I can't help but love it.

Next is Seahomon, which is pretty obviously a seahorse, but its snout is a trumpet and it has a cape that turns into wings I guess? I dunno, it's a pretty weird one.

My favorite of the three is Mantaraymon. Despite the name, it doesn't have a manta ray's face, instead having a rostrum like a shovelnose ray or even maybe a dolphin. I do like how they used Patamon's ears as the cephalic fins.

Mantaraymon also has a more mechanical X-antibody variant that gives it kind of a stealth fighter vibe. I kind of like it more than the original Mantaraymon, which is saying something since I usually don't like X-antibody Digimon.

Moving onto the ultimate/perfect level we have a new mon from China, Huankunmon.

I love this design so much. Its based on the peng, a mythical creature that can turn from a bird to a fish. Fittingly, Huankunmon's line goes from a bird (Xiquemon) and goes to a bird/fish/dragon hybrid (Xiangpengmon). It'a also based on a flying fish since it can fly with a swimming motion. And it can turn invisible. There's nothing not to love about it.

Next is Piranimon, and look at this absolute beast

Some might call it overdesigned, but I absolutely love it. I particularly dig the tail being a fish hook covered in barbed wire. Its based on a red-bellied piranha, but the pop-culture version where they're bloodthirsty monsters that attack everything they see. Real piranhas are not like that. The helmet it wears may also be based on placoderms, some of which only had the bone armor on the front of their bodies.

Finally at this level, we have Divemon.

I'm not as big of a fan of this as I am of the other two, but I do like the Polynesian-style tattoos it has. Its a combination hammerhead shark and professional swimmer.

Maxing out at the mega/ultimate level we have MetalPiranimon.

While I appreciate any fish megas, I think this is a step down from Piranhimon. It's just a red-bellied piranha with a big metal head dragging around a counterweight. I'm not saying its bad, I'm just saying that Piranhimon is better. Fun fact, Metalpiranhimon came first. Piranhimon was designed because someone thought it was weird that there's a MetalPiranhimon but no regular Piranhimon. There are a few examples of that in Digimon, like SkullBaluchimon coming before Baluchimon.

Next is Regalecusmon, which might be stretching the definition of fish a bit, but it does have an oarfish for a head.

I really like this design, especially it using Zudomon's horn as a sword and what looks like Ebidramon's claw as a shield. I think it would make a great villain for an aquatic episode or storyline of a show. Maybe like a more modern version of MetalSeadramon from Adventure.

Finally, we have Surfimon.

It's a mechanical shark man riding a rocket-powered hammerhead shark surfboard with a buzzsaw on the front. We have reached peak Digimon, people. And even better, it was created by a fan as part of a contest. Frankly, it's a shame that it hasn't gotten any appearances in the anime or games. I don't get why some fan-made Digimon can go onto have major appearances like Dobermon, Cyberdramon, and SoundBirdmon while others get ignored. A lot of them don't even have art. I'd be pretty bummed if I was a kid who won a contest to have my design become official and then it was never used. I think Surfimon should get an anime appearance and the English dub should make it talk like a Californian surfer dude.

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thelonelyarchon · 25 days

Text

📮RETURN TO SENDER ᯓᡣ𐭩

004 - rejected

Note: written text up ahead after divider

ONCE you turned the knob of the door that leads you to the living room, you half-expected to deal with the questions your other friends had for you. Locking yourself in the bathroom for five hours is not normal per se, but it was much needed for your sanity.

You’re surprised by the lack of your other friends’ presence. To give you and Kaveh some space to reconcile, they’ve stealthily hidden themselves behind a large china cabinet. You noticed them either way. If Kaveh noticed their presence too, he didn’t make it obvious that he did.

Kaveh stood in the middle of the room with a tight-lipped expression and guilty eyes that one would think he did something more horrible than just sending out a letter that wasn’t supposed to be sent. You narrowed your eyes at him. He winces.

Proud as you were, you knew Kaveh didn’t do anything wrong. He had only followed the instruction you have given him in the first place. Maybe your stubbornness looked for excuses to rationalize your own fault so Kaveh who had done the unthinkable got your rage.

When you see his guilty state, you sighed and walked towards.

“Ten minutes. Let’s talk this out.” You said in a weak voice.

Kaveh looked like a wilted flower. At the sound of your voice, he perks up just fine. He had been blaming himself for being reckless. As anyone who knew him would comment on that particular trait. He didn’t want you to hate him for this.

“Hey, I’m sorry, [name.]” He starts. You shake your head.

“What do you mean? I should be the one saying sorry. Between the two of us, it was my fault.”

“I mailed the letter.”

“I told you to mail them, though. You didn’t know which one is which so it was my fault,” you walked closer to him. “For that… I’m sorry. Don’t work yourself up too much.”

In an attempt to console him of the guilt he has, you pat his shoulder and give him a smile. He hesitantly smiled back.

“Also, if you think I’m mad because you were the one who sent the letter, you’re wrong. I’m mad at myself.” You laugh.

“So, this is settled now? Are we friends again?” Kaveh asked.

“It depends on the contents of that letter.” You used your lips to point at the letter on his hand, hanging at his side. He looks at it and raises it.

“It’s from Alhaitham.”

“I know.”

“You may not like the contents.”

“I know.”

“You still want to read it?” He confirms for the third time. You grab it from his hand and nods. Kaveh sucks in a sharp breath and waits.

You opened the letter and scanned the contents of the letter. The more you read the letter, the more your vision began to blur and the whirlwind of emotions began to suffocate you. You feel your heart breaking with each line coming from Alhaitham. You already expected this kind of reply. But it still hurt deep inside. To stop you from reading it, Kaveh covers your vision of the letter with his hand.

“That’s enough,” he said softly.

“I guess we’re not friends anymore, Kaveh.” You laugh jokingly through streams of tears. “I need a moment.”

“S-sure.” He watches you as you walk towards the other end of your dorm. You weakly throw Alhaitham’s letter away before sitting out on the small hanging balcony. Out of curiosity, Kaveh walked towards the bin and reads your letter. He notices the original letter he sent to Alhaitham.

Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you in good health. To begin with, I did not expect to receive such a letter on such short notice. I have read the contents of your letter thoroughly, and I have contemplated what to write back to you in correspondence.

I must admit I am flustered by your words of praises, Ms. [Name]. However, I would like to apologize for being a bearer of bad news.

Though I appreciate your enthusiasm and 'profound love for me,' I regret to inform you that I cannot return those feelings.

My feelings are reserved only for the one who makes my heart beat with fervor. I’m afraid someone already has the right to those feelings.

Enclosed with this reply is your letter. It may be best for me to return it to you. If we ever pass by each other or whether or not you approach me some other time, I shall treat you as though I know nothing so we may start anew.

I hope I didn’t ruin this day any further for you. For all that it’s worth, happy valentine’s day. Have a nice day.

Sincerely,

Alhaitham

Kaveh sighs and reaches the letter on the trash bin. He didn’t know what to do with it but something in him is saying that this will be needed someday. Maybe he’ll keep it safe until then. Maybe [Name] will need it someday.

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TAGLIST: @makimakimi @yura-4life

#genshin impact #lily's corner | soc med au 🧸☁️₊˚⊹⋆#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem reader #alhaitham x reader socmed au #socmed au #social media au #genshin men #genshin men x reader #genshinimpact #alhaitham x reader smau #smau #alhaitham x reader fic #alhaitham x female reader

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horanghater · 5 months

Note

Hi! Idk if I'm doing this correctly but can I request a fluffy/humor sfw scenario where wonwoo/scoups (I couldn't decide which member but you can choose whichever you prefer) accidentally hurts their gf while play fighting. Nothing angsty or done on purpose. Feel free to ignore this tho lol

▸ Pairing: Seungcheol x F!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 13+ / fluff, humor / established relationship

If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post. (Yes, even though this is sfw.)

▸ Warnings: none

▸ Word Count: 581

▸ A/N: Don't worry, you did it right! This idea is so stinking cute!! Thank you for requesting it, hope you enjoy! Kisses as usual for world's best beta @shuadotcom <3

Not everyone appreciates rainy nights, but you do. The soft, white noise of the shower outside and the smell of wet earth wafting through the cracked window never fail to put you in a good mood. You and Seungcheol are cozied up under a blanket on the couch, a bargain bin movie watching you more than you’re both watching it. While your boyfriend is on his phone, sleep is dangerously close to pulling your eyelids closed for the night. The sweet embrace of sleep is yanked from you when his fingers skate over the sole of your foot, making you shriek and jump at the sudden contact.

Seungcheol’s laugh pulls at your heartstrings even when it’s laced with deviousness. “You’re not falling asleep on me again! Wake up!”

You draw your knees to your chest, throwing the blanket off of you so he can’t sneak another tickle. “Sorry! This movie’s just boring.”

“Boring? You picked it.” Seungcheol closes the distance between the two of you on the couch again, placing a hand on the back cushion so he can bring his face close to yours. “Your movie, you watch it.”

“And if I say ‘no’?” you ask, puffing up your chest in defiance.

“Well if you say ‘no’, I’ll just have to…” Seungcheol’s eyes scan your body, looking for an opening. He doesn’t finish his sentence when he finds it, instead lunging on top of you so he can tickle the exposed skin on your neck.

You screech again, wriggling under your boyfriend’s weight and giggling madly as his fingers dance across your skin. The only thing that stops Seungcheol’s assault is a conspicuously loud clap of thunder – and the crack of your foreheads slamming together. You both recoil immediately, hissing and groaning as you cradle your heads in your hands gingerly. Seungcheol nurses his wound only for a moment, springing into action when he squints and sees you’re in pain too.

“Baby,” he coos, scooting back over to you, “I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

Even now, you’re snickering, taken by just how much joy can come from the most childish moments if they’re happening with Seungcheol. You try to waive him off, saying you’re fine, but your ever-attentive partner won’t have it.

Seungcheol bats your hands away, his own coming up to hold your head like it’s fine china. “Ssh, lemme see.” You sit still as he inspects your forehead for bruising, knowing all too well that it’s easier just to let him fuss than convince him that you’re uninjured. When he seems satisfied, he sits back to inspect you in full.

You grin back at him, appreciative of his concern even though it’s overblown the majority of the time. “Cheol, I’m not going to keel over. Really.” You reach to hold his hand, but Seungcheol has other plans, yanking you forward and then forcing you to turn around so he can spoon you sitting up. Seungcheol wraps his arms around your torso, squeezing tight before leaning over to burrito you both in the blanket once again.

Once your back is settled against his chest and your chuckles subside, Seungcheol peppers you with kisses, sumptuous lips pressing into your shoulders, the back of your neck, the side of your head – whatever he can reach.

“Sorry, baby,” he says again. “Love you so much.”

You twist around the best you can to smile at Seungcheol and the sparkle in his eye that’s reserved just for you. “Love you too, darling.”

#svthub #kvanity #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #scoups fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #bambi.reqs

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zhongrin · 2 years

Text

tsunami

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe

◇ tags ◇ yandere, unhealthy relationship, obsessive behavior, not poly - 2 men competing for your attention

◇ a/n ◇ lmao you’re so fucked good luck first submission for my ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ϟᴜᴘᴇʀᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ collab

𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

getting caught between these two is akin to getting engulfed in a tsunami - childe being the wave that consumes your whole being, while zhongli is the moving earth plates; the catalyst that pushed the ginger to do so.

it was fine at first. childe’s curiosity makes him wave and calls out to you whenever he bumps into you in the harbor. he makes small talk, discovers something new about you, and leaves you with a smile.

only… after a few times, his questions start getting more and more personal, he starts to intrude on your personal space, and before long whenever you’re just walking down the street, if you feel arms snake around you from behind, you immediately know it’s childe.

zhongli does the same, although at times he would not be opposed to tagging along with you, surveying the market stalls and helping you do your errands. it’s very gentlemanly of him, and he’s always so ever helpful, so of course you would enjoy his company, of course you would willingly spend more time with him, to the point of inviting him over for tea, because you’ve got to repay the man somehow for never failing to help you with things, right?

yes, it’s all fine and dandy until one day, childe spots the two of your together, and it would have been fine if he hadn’t seen how the ex-archon kissed your hand as he excused himself.

and the worst part?

you were giggling, seemingly embarrassed by the gesture, and yet anyone can see that you liked it.

oh.

oh, the hunt’s on.

from thereon, childe treats you like a conquest: lavish gifts begin to flood your doorstep; from pieces of jewelry to exquisite chinas to bouquets of the freshest flowers. he laughs when you try to give them back, and for the first time, he tells you things like how you’re worth all the mora in the whole teyvat. that he just wants to make you happy because you’re important to him.

zhongli gives you a bouquet of flowers when you met him that day, and you sheepishly joke that you don’t have a vase to store them in, since the ones you have are currently housing all the flowers childe has been giving you these past few days.

hm? childe is giving you flowers now?

interesting.

the relationship between zhongli and childe is… up in the air, up until that point. they weren’t exactly friends, yet they were no strangers to each other. they’re not hostile to each other, yet they aren’t exactly the most amiable. their motives and goals differ from each other, and therefore when there are no reasons for them to mingle, they prefer to stay out of each other’s way.

but now, there’s you.

a tiny sprout that childe wishes to shelter and nurture all on his own. the finest gem zhongli wishes to possess and examine in detail. a fleeting butterfly that managed to mesmerize them with the elegant flutter and the intricate patterns of your wings.

beautiful.

hypnotizing.

brittle.

they simply have to compete to entice you to settle onto their palm. surely you would be happier if you were to be put in a garden they’ve made just for you? a space full of your favorite flowers and the only one person who would be able to appreciate your entirety to the fullest?

and if your perfect wings has to become just a little bit imperfect for you to end up in his grasp, then that’s a small price to pay, doesn’t it?

“as someone who's willing to give up the nation he’s built for thousands of years, why don’t you be the gentleman that you are and back off this time, xiansheng?”

“i do not think you understood my actions correctly. never have i ‘given up’ on liyue and its people. in fact, i believe i have never given up anything that managed to catch my eye throughout the course of my life - for you see, i pride myself of having an eye for the most exquisite crafts. whenever i recognize such brilliance, i must add them to my collection. no matter how much it costs.”

𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑠𝑒𝑎, 𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠? 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖 𝑖𝑠, 𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #yandere #zhongrin.elementalsupercharge

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coloursflyaway · 15 days

Text

Won’t Fear Love (5/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.600

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.

If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.

or:

Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

Charles won’t tell him where they are going. Again.

It’s the second Wednesday of the month, just after five pm and Charles just takes him to the mirror in the office, hand lightly grasping Edwin’s wrist, and expects him to walk through with him. Now, for someone else, this could be exciting, but Edwin has never really appreciated surprises, not even by the person he loves most in the world.

He’s about to ask Charles again, but he’s beaten to it, because Charles smiles and slips his hand down until he can intertwine their fingers, then asks, “Do you trust me?” What an utterly preposterous question.

Does he trust Charles? More than anything else in the world, more than himself.

Edwin sighs, resists the urge to roll his eyes and Charles’ smile makes up for it tenfold, no matter if it is a little smug around the edges. Maybe he has a right to be.

The world fades and appears again, and Edwin expected something different. He’s not quite sure what, but behind the mirror is the roof of their own building, the sun bright and the sky blue for a change.

“I know this is probably not as extravagant as you imagined it”, Charles starts to explain, almost sounding bashful, as if Edwin would care about where they are spending their evening and not simply about who he is spending it with. “I had something else planned, but then I saw the weather and I thought it would be such a shame to waste it. I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Disappointed by you? Never”, Edwin answers and it should feel like saying too much, but it doesn’t. Instead of an answer, he gets a smile that puts the sun to shame, and a tug to his wrist as Charles pulls him forward.

“We have discussed the problem with how much of dating revolves around food before, I know, but I wanted to prepare at least something so it’s not just us sitting on the roof and watching the sunset”, he explains, looking a little sheepish as he takes Edwin to where a chequered picnic blanket is spread across the rough concrete. “It’s probably a bit silly, but I just wanted to do something special.”

He’s leaving out part of the sentence, Edwin can hear it clearly, but it takes a moment until he fills in the blanks: for you. Charles wanted to do something special for him, and Edwin feels his non-existent heart seize up in his chest; doesn’t know how Charles hasn’t yet realised that anything he does for him is special to Edwin.

“So, I got all this”, Charles says and sits down, pulling Edwin with him. Next to him is a picnic basket that looks like it’s been taken directly out of a movie, made from wicker and with a small handle to carry it across open fields, before settling down next to a creek, or maybe in the shade of an old oak tree. And then, Charles whips it open.

Inside, packed tightly to fit everything, is an assortment of children’s toys.

Colourful plastic moulded into facsimiles of cake slices and finger sandwiches. Dollops of whipped cream made from styrofoam, different kinds of fruit that look like they have been felted, rubber croissants that still look fluffy, delightful in an unreal way. Tucked in around the toys are cups and plates made from fine china, metal cutlery, a tea pot that Edwin knows he has seen in Crystal’s kitchen before.

It’s silly, Charles is right. It’s the most lovely thing Edwin has ever seen in his life.

“You, Charles Rowland”, he starts and has to blink back a tear or two, “are the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“So you like it?”, Charles asks, like he still isn’t certain of the answer, but he smiling at Edwin, he’s still holding his hand, thumb brushing over Edwin’s knuckles. “I love it”, he answers; adds, if only in thoughts, I love you.

“Charles, would you pass me a slice of cake?”, Edwin asks after they have watched the sunlight for a little while, comfortable silence stretching between them. “It looks scrumptious.” “You want me to-”, Charles starts and then stops himself, a smile blooming on his face that makes Edwin think of falling, makes him think of flying. “Yes, of course. Would you like some tea with that?”

“That would be delightful”, Edwin replies and takes the delicate cup Charles hands him. “Also, maybe some of that clotted cream?”

And they have a picnic right there on the rooftop, sharing smiles and little touches and plastic pastries alike.

There are children’s toys strewn around them, mostly forgotten, and they are still sitting on the picnic blanket, watching as the sun sets over London. It’s beautiful up here, enough distance between them and the city to drown out the noise and make it feel like it’s just them, and while Edwin likes their new life with all the new people it includes, he misses this sometimes. Misses a world in which he never looked up and not saw Charles next to him, a world in which they had been so intertwined that Edwin never considered it could be otherwise.

What he doesn’t miss, though, is not knowing what the warmth in his chest is when he looks over at Charles. Maybe it was easier back then, when he thought the urge to touch Charles was nothing more than friendship, but it’s better now. Because Charles deserves to be loved, and Edwin, above all else, wants to be the one to love him.

If they end this experiment and Charles decides that he only wants Edwin as a friend, then so be it. Edwin will love him to the fullest extent, the best of his ability, as long as he exists. And that, in the end, would be enough.

“What are you thinking about?”, Charles asks softly, and Edwin tears his gaze away from where the sun is just so touching the outlines of the skyscrapers in the distance. He’s beautiful, something Edwin has known since the first moment he had set eyes on Charles, freezing and scared and dying and yet so ready to accept Edwin in his life. Maybe that had been the moment all of this had started, not when Charles had chosen to stay with him, because Edwin’s love had never been about reciprocation, but when he had first allowed Edwin to sit down next to him and granted him a smile.

“Nothing in particular”, he replies, and knows that Charles won’t believe him, but that’s alright. It’s not like it is something he is trying to hide, just something they don’t have to discuss right now, when the sun is setting and he’s still buzzing from their fingers brushing when they pretended to split a croissant between them.

And Charles doesn’t bring it up, just nods and scoots a little closer until their shoulders are pressed together. He’s not looking at Edwin, but out across the city, so Edwin does the same, lets his head rest against Charles’ shoulder and wishes he could breathe in deeply, make out Charles’ scent between everything else this moment has to offer.

“You know”, Charles says, and shifts so he can wrap his arm around Edwin’s shoulders, holding him close. “I think about you a lot. Always have, really. And all this dating hasn’t made it less, but I’m pretty sure you already know that.”

He shifts again, and for a horrible moment, Edwin thinks he will pull away, but then there are lips pressing against the crown of his head, and instead, time stands still, lets him take it in. It feels like peace, like excitement, like something Edwin could live without but never wants to again.

“And you know I love you, don’t you?”, Charles says and time moves again, makes Edwin’s heart ache and jubilate at the same time. He does. “I love you the most.”

Edwin nods without moving his head, wishes he could feel the coarse fabric of Charles’ jacket against his cheek, the heat of his blood beneath it. For a moment he wants to repeat the words, because they are true, but Charles already knows. Might have always known.

A finger on the side of his chin, gently lifting it, and Charles is saying, “Hey, look at me for a sec?”

And Edwin sits up, Charles’ arm sliding off his shoulders as he turns to face him. He misses it almost immediately, but there is something in Charles’ eyes that makes it so easy to forget the fact. They are warm and dark and they are watching Edwin like he is something precious, something worth keeping.

There are no words, Charles just looks at him, and it’s almost like a physical touch; it makes Edwin shiver, even though he cannot feel it. Because Charles is smiling like he has never smiled before, lets the finger that is still resting against Edwin’s jaw slide downwards until he can gently grasp his chin, as if he was afraid that Edwin could ever look away again.

A moment, a breath, and then Charles leans in and brushes the softest, the sweetest kiss against his lips.

It’s not his first, but it feels like it anyway, feels like a beginning and feels like an end. Let me have this, he thinks, not for the first time. Let me love him.

And then, he doesn’t think anymore at all, and kisses Charles back.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #one more chapter to go ano i already miss this fic

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oh-saints · 1 year

Note

Star gazing with ruben dias

stars

“pretty people should always be surrounded by pretty things,” rúben likes to say to you. and he stands by it, never giving you less than all the pretty things he thinks you deserve. up until the very end of your life.

rúben dias x you

word count: 2.1k

tw: implied talks about life and death

note: hi hi hi i’m back! finally managed to battle jetlag and post-breakup heartbreak and all the jazz… anyway the summary and the tw might indicate spoiler...👀 so proceed at your own risk. but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read.

“gatinha,”

you were perched on the stool on the opposite of the kitchen island, on the other end of where he was cooking, watching him stirring the pot that was hosting his favourite dish that night, legs dangling like a kid on a swing.

it was another friday for you two. on fridays where he didn’t have to go for an away match, you held the tradition to be civil and normal by ordering in dinner or he cooked for the lives of you both. the tradition included you indulging him the pleasure of being called with an affectionate portugese pet name, and he’d laugh at how badly you butchered the pronunciation.

and he was about to do just that—chuckling at your terrible but endearing effort—when you continued, eyes were casted down like your feet were more amazing that looking at his eyes.

that was when rúben realised something was off the mark. because you’d declared openly to him that you love his brown orbs so much to the point you didn’t think you could say no if he looked at you intensely with those eyes—the claim was still proven true until now without amiss, by the way.

“can we take the dinner to the backyard?”

with your pursed lips, rúben immediately noticed the nervousness that was hiding behind the strong front.

it wasn’t his first or second rodeo actually, seeing you nervous when asking something. one of the things rúben liked about you was how you almost never asked of him about anything, unless necessary. so different to people he’d met before, asking too much when they couldn’t give anything in return. and that was solidified rúben’s justification to date you already, despite being ordinary person compared to his superstar status, because you made him want to do anything and everything you didn’t ask for.

it started small, at first. trinkets from his away matches, then it grew into sending a bouquet of flowers every week to your small coffeeshop. and still, what you appreciated the most wasn’t the stuffs he brought to your table but the little notes he left behind for you because for you, it was always the thought that mattered.

the same reason you never asked for extravagant dinners, branded clothes and bags, or all these things rúben could’ve easily gotten for you. the same reason you only accepted him entirely into your life—after he sent you a hampers of flowers and fine china mugs, with a hand-written scribbles of pretty people should always be surrounded by pretty things.

so who was he to deny when you, for once in blood moon, asked something from him?

“anything you want, meu anjo,” was always rúben’s answer whenever you had a favour to ask, and he meant it without further question asked. as long as it was within his capacity and capability, he intended to make it real for you.

“thank you,” and you would always grin widely at him every time he responded to your silly requests, so wide it turned your eyes into a pair of sickle moons, and rúben had never looked at whatever orbiting the sky the same anymore since he’d met you. you paled everything else in this terrestrial realm the way the moon outshone everything else in its own reign.

especially when you smile, the way you were doing now as rúben laid down the traditional red picnic mat he’d kept from the last time he had the idea of doing a picnic nearby hyde park. you’re always genuine when you smile, to the point you would rather stir the conversation elsewhere if it required you to fake a reaction, so rúben knew every smile coming from you is precious and he swore he’d do anything to keep them alive whenever you were with him.

but for once, rúben had to question his eyes when he noticed the glint in your eyes faltered a bit, despite the smile still attached to your face, as you asked him, “do you think the stars are alive, my love?”

you were supposed to twinkle like the object in talking, so why did you look so tense?

“i truthfully don’t know,” rúben tucked the freshly-cut short hair behind your ears, so soft against his rough skin, while you laid down on the red fabric. “you tell me, meu anjo.”

“i think they do. it’ll explain why some are bright and some aren’t,” while the smile were still intact, your eyes shut down, and rúben missed them already, for they were so clear the stars could be reflected through them as if you were an extension to the starlit sky. “some are having good days and some aren’t.”

“then do they die, minha vida?”

“yes, i think they do. it’ll explain the fallen stars,” you patted the empty spot beside yours, silently urging rúben to lie down beside you and watch the night skyline together. “what do you think?”

rúben didn’t concede to your whim this time though, because he thought he was looking at his universe already. “why do you think they can die?”

“because sadly, in life, pretty things cannot last forever, rúben.”

however, when rúben was awoken by the loud sound of you crashing down the toiletries in your shared bathroom, only to find you collapsed lifelessly on the floor, things were slowly put into its respective place by Mother Nature.

things you were supposed to hide from him, that is.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out eventually that something had gone terribly wrong with you because you had never fallen down like a paper doll like that. the sight of you lying helplessly unconscious even terrified him to the point he was praying loudly to god—or whoever that might be listening—to save you, as he’d never seen your skin so pale and your lips so blue.

and he’d noticed the nervous, shaking baritone of the ER doctors that had come to your aide when they were about to explain their deduction of your condition.

but he never expected the doctors would be dropping a nuclear bomb on his head.

out of all things he could think of, a brain tumour at the most dangerous part of your brain was definitely not something in his cards. the position was too risky for an immediate surgery, especially with the humongous size you were having, so chemotherapy was what you’d been doing behind his back—and it was only now it made sense to him why you liked to wear scarfs over your head as of late.

but you were racing against time. as an early result, you were losing your hair and eyesight at the same time. the combination of the position and the weight of the deadly mound was slowly eroding your vision, and sudden blackout was actually expected if rúben had known earlier about it.

hell, had he known about it…

good god, he should’ve seen the signs. the scarfs, the constant ponytails around him, the recently short-cut hair… so weird when you know he loves your hair dangling down your back so much.

how could he think of the ridiculous number of meds you were taking as merely vitamins?

so stupid of him.

“i’ll convince her to take the surgery,” was all his response at the end of the doctors’ explanation. how could she think of delaying the inevitable, when her eyesight was what was at risk? when she was at risk?

but of course, he was met by a ferocious response from you. so fierce it actually scared the life of rúben, for you had never been so violent and abrasive around him. you were always calm and collected, the two of you made a rather cold couple from the outside.

“it’s a decision where my life’s at stake, rúben!” you cried out, desperation lingered in the air—rúben from wanting to have you back in pristine condition; yours from the freight of what you could lose entirely, should the surgery go south. “you can’t decide that for me!”

but who was he to deny when you asked something from him, when you’d asked nothing from him?

so rúben conceded to your whims of undergoing chemo. he’d made sure your monthly schedule was right up in his alley, on days where he didn’t have to travel for an away match, so he could be by your side without fail. he wasn’t about to let you go through endless post-procedure vomits alone without help, he would be the one holding your hand before and after the long-hours procedure had ended.

he wasn’t about to leave you behind when the waves were rough, when the most devilish demon in the form of insecurity came knocking on your door. he would be the one swiping your tears away and kissing you breathlessly to tell you that you were still beautiful in his eyes because you gave the meaning of the word entirely different since he’d come to know you.

only pep knew the reason behind his monthly absence, though, for rúben had promised you absolute secrecy from the world about your condition. albeit, still with a sworn commitment that rúben shall deliver every match he was starting.

despite your resilience throughout the whole procedure and diligence in participating every pre and post procedural events, your condition was beyond the chemo’s saving. it had taken rúben numerous days to hold you in his arms while you cried for your life, endless hours to say all the reasons to fight your firm belief you were on the losing ends rather than reaping the possible benefits that might come after the procedure, and abundance of word strings that was equivalent to how much rúben loves you, even if you couldn’t see him anymore.

the last one held the biggest contribution to your final decision to undergo the surgery, as suggested. rúben’s countless declaration of his love, regardless of your detoriating condition, pushed you to take the life-altering procedure because deep down, you wanted to become better—for yourself, for both of you, and mostly for him.

for rúben, who’d been nothing less than a perfect boyfriend you could ever ask for since day 1.

“come here.”

rúben kneeled forward without further ado, bringing himself closer to your arm’s length. your hands immediately reached for his stubbles, stroked the sharp edges along his jaw and cheekbones ever so slowly. your eyes traced where your hands went, and he knew you were back trying to memorise your favourite features of him.

he hated it, the depressing thought you were having—that this surgery might fail and this was your last chance to see him, feel him before complete blackness became your friend. you were one of the brightest, most positive person he’d come across and he hated that this disease were slowly taking the light away from you too.

“i love you,” and rúben didn’t stutter his words. his eyes zeroed down on you, unwavering like his words, and you smiled widely at that because you knew he knew the demonic thoughts you weren’t supposed to be having. had you had the energy, you would certainly laugh at your boyfriend for catching you red.

“i know.”

“good, because i’m going to wait right here, okay?”

you nodded with a rather meek smile this time, and rúben’s heart constricted at the sight because he knew you were mustering every energy left inside of you, yet you still looked so ethereally beautiful as if the disease weren’t eating your life away. “okay.”

“so you must come back to me, you hear me?” rúben brought your flimsy hand to kiss the back of your hand, your knuckles. “promise me that.”

“i will,” your hand slipped away from his, only to reach up to his face and pulled his lips towards yours to seal the deal. “i love you.”

the gentle breeze whispered against his lips were enough of an assurance at that time, for you said it with a tone as resolute as someone of your condition could do. so he let you go after one last kiss—a short one this time as he watched the stars in your eyes were slowly fleeting away, thanks to the meds kicking in—wheeled by the medics into the operating theatre, and already looking forward to see you again in the next couple of hours.

but rúben should’ve known that will was never a stronger word than going to when promising something.

for you never came back to him.

and the stars shone the brightest he’d ever seen that night since coming in town.

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 2

We get to see a little bit more about the work Dustin and Steve do and Steve gets the shock of his life.

Part 1

***

Steve loved his job and getting to work with his best friend made it all the more awesome. Thankfully his Platonic soulmate wasn’t around to hear him say that.

But she was coming to visit this weekend and that was always made for a great time.

He stopped by the development team to say hi.

“Dusty!” he greeted warmly. “Hey, man! What’s up?”

Dustin gave him a hug. “Hey! I didn’t know you’d be in today. How’s my favorite god daughter?”

Steve laughed. “Don’t let Lily Byers hear you say that.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Well considering she’s in China with her badass parents at the moment, she’ll never know.”

Steve batted his eyelashes at innocently.

“Right, Steve?” Dustin asked. “She’ll never know, because you won’t tell her, right?”

Steve held out for two seconds longer. “Of course not. Her mother still carries that Russian pistol of hers. I’m not about to start beef between the two girls.”

Dustin just shook his head. “I always thought it was interesting that the only ones of our Party to have girls was you and Nancy and Jonathan.”

“As Max would say, ‘too many boys’,” Steve agreed. “Like she didn’t have three of her own.”

“All tall with red hair and freckles,” Dustin said.

“My daughter is doing just fine,” Steve murmured. “She’s finally found a replacement for Lauren in her band.”

Dustin smiled. “That’s great. They come up with a name yet?”

Steve shook his head. “Nope. I think right now they’ve been calling themselves The Band.”

“Ouch.”

“So the real reason for this visit is...” Steve said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously, “I was wondering if you had ear plugs I could use for their practice. I know I can just turn off my aid, but that does jack shit for my right ear.”

Dustin laughed. “Yeah, man. I’ve got you covered.” He went over to the design table and picked up a small grey box. He turned and handed it to Steve.

“They’re smooth with a flared base so they’ll slot gently into the canal,” Dustin explained. “You’d have to take out your aid or you just use the one. It’s up to you.”

Steve weighed them appreciatively. “Thanks, Dusty.”

“No problem,” he said with a grin. “I can’t imagine having to listen to a bunch of teenagers playing their instruments badly for a couple of hours.”

Steve grimaced. “What’s worse is that they haven’t figured out their style yet, so it’s a discordant mess of genres.”

Dustin made a face. “That’s rough, man.”

“How are you and Suzie getting along these days?” Steve asked gently.

Dustin sighed. “It’s official, she can’t have kids.”

Steve winced. “Even with in vitro?

“Yeah,” he replied mournfully. “We’re thinking adopting next.”

Steve nodded. “Let me know if you guys need anything right?” He squeezed Dustin’s arm in sympathy.

Dustin nodded.

Steve said goodbye and got back to work. He put the ear plugs in his briefcase so he wouldn’t forget to take them home. He shook his head. All his life he fought hard against being a business man like his dad. But it turns out that he’s good at it. Damn good at it.

He signed good morning to his receptionist, Vanessa.

“Good morning, sir,” she said, her voice a little off, the way it can some times get when you can’t hear yourself. “You have your ten o’clock appointment in fifteen minutes, but your lunch meeting canceled. Death in the family.”

Steve sighed. He signed back, “Send flowers and condolences and see if they want to reschedule. We need their micro chips.”

Vanessa saluted smartly and Steve flipped her off. He walked into his office and flopped into his chair with a sigh. He loved Vanessa. She had been with him since he went public with his hearing loss.

They had a great professional relationship and her husband, Nick loved Steve, too. He would tease her that he love Steve more than her and swore that he got Steve if they ever divorced.

Nick was hearing but his parents weren’t and that’s why Nick was Steve’s personal sign interpreter for his clients. Because Steve couldn’t be everywhere and he employed a lot of HOH and deaf people. Which he had gotten flak for when they first started. How would a deaf person be valuable to an audio company? And that was one of the reasons, Steve had come out as hard of hearing.

Because Steve was the reason S&D existed at all. As at the time he found out about his hearing loss, even the best hearing aids at the time were bulky, had a tinny quality to them, and were prohibitively expensive.

So of course big brained Dustin Henderson looked at them and said, “I could do better than that with a box of scraps in my mom’s basement.” And did. But the other thing Dustin was and still is, was mouthy. He couldn’t get investors to pay attention because he would end up getting mad and storm out.

Which is where Steve came in. He could sweet talk anyone. Was kinda famous for it, in fact.

There was a knock on his door and he looked over at the phone on his desk. It was flashing red. His appointment was here.

Steve stood up and greeted them with his most charming Harrington smile.

“Thank you for coming in today,” he said brightly. “Shall we get started?”

Steve got home from work to find Edith already home and doing her school work.

“Hey, sweetie,” he said kissing the top of her head. “How was school?”

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted. “It was okay. Algebra should be banned from schools forever.”

Steve got out a pitcher of water from the fridge and poured himself a glass. “Still having trouble with it?”

Edith sighed. “Yeah. It’s such a pain in the ass.”

“What did I tell you about swearing?” Steve asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Not until I’m an adult and not until I’ve moved out,” she grumbled. “Which ever comes last.”

Steve grinned. “Good girl. It’s more about trying to teach you that there are some places that won’t let you swear, like at certain places of business. And getting used to curbing your language will help with that.”

She sighed dramatically. “I know.”

He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head again. “Your band coming over tonight?”

“Yeah,” she said. “If that’s alright? I know you said only once a week but we need to make sure that garage will be okay to practice in.”

Steve laughed. “I’m aware.”

Edith rolled her eyes. “Like you know what being in a band is like.”

He swatted at her. “I know you think I live under a rock but I had friend that was in a band before I married your mother.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Are they famous?”

“No,” Steve said solemnly. “Their bus rolled over and killed their bassist before they got the chance.”

Edith’s eyes went wide. “You mean like Metallica?!”

That startled Steve out of his funk. “Yeah, like Metallica, only not. Because they decided that they couldn’t continue without their friend and hung it all up.”

“That’s too bad,” she said. “I’m not sure I would have been able to go on playing if Mandy or Kenny died.”

He nodded. “Just let me know if you guys need anything.”

“Will do!”

Steve could hear the band tuning their instruments and smiled. He paused. His face felt tight around his eyes and that wasn’t a good sign. He didn’t want a migraine at his little girl’s first band practice here at the house. That would be bad.

He took some Ibuprofen and hoped that would stave it off long enough until practice was over.

He then went out to the garage to say hi to everyone. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and his heart plummeted to his stomach. Standing there tuning a guitar Steve knew better than his own god damn name was a young man of about sixteen or seventeen with dark curly brown hair that fell about to his chin, big brown eyes and dimples in his cheeks.

“Dad!” Edith cried out. “Hey I want you to meet someone.”

Steve somehow managed to walk over to Edith’s friend. “Hey,” he greeted lamely.

He couldn’t remember if Dustin had said if Eddie had a kid. But this boy couldn’t be anyone else’s.

“H-man,” she said excitedly. “This is my dad, Steve Harrington.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said and Steve stomach dropped out further. His voice was almost the same, too.

“Dad, this is Harri Munson,” Edith said. “Mostly we call him H-man.”

Munson. There it was. There was no doubt now. This was Eddie Munson’s boy. The swooping feeling in his stomach became a roar.

“I met him in art class about a month ago,” she continued happily. “I learned he played guitar and I told him about our band and he was super excited to join. Which was great because after Lauren’s backstabbing–”

“Migraine,” he managed to croak to Edith before he dashed off.

Edith grimaced. “Sorry you had to see that. My dad gets migraines sometimes and I guess today is one of them. Poor bastard.”

Harri winced. “My papa used to get migraines, too. That sucks. Are we going to be able to still practice?”

Edith nodded. “Yeah, he said it would be fine. We just can’t turn up the sound to eleven.”

Harri laughed. “Gotcha.”

“You gonna need a ride home after?” Edith asked, not seeing a car.

“Nah,” Harri said. “My dad wants to meet your dad. Make sure I’m not going to get murdered or kidnapped or whatever.”

Edith rolled her eyes. “I know how that is. My dad is super protective too. Like I swear he went through major trauma he refuses to tell me about.”

Harri nodded. “Stupid NDAs is all Dad will say when I ask.”

“Yes! My dad, too!”

They both laughed.

The band started playing and about half way through they decided to stop and take a break.

Just then a car pulled up. It was slick black muscle car that made Mandy, the band’s resident gearhead whistle long and low.

“Who’s honey child is that?” she asked appreciatively.

Harri raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s my dad’s car.”

Edith frowned. “He’s not here to pick you up yet, right?”

Harri shook his head. “No, like I said he wanted to meet your dad.”

She nodded.

***

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Epilogue

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#My writing #stranger things #steddie #reconnecting years later AU #ladykailtiha writes

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cherryrainn · 7 months

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Dom! onceler 1972 x fem! reader who is his wife like a very typical housewife pleasee

━━ ✧ 𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; onceler (1972) + reader

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; please note that this story portrays traditional gender roles

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; smoking

you were the picture-perfect housewife, and your husband, the onceler, was the epitome of a successful businessman. your home was filled with the scent of freshly baked apple pie, the clinking of fine china, and the occasional, unmistakable aroma of cigars.

onceler was a man of many facets. he had a way of commanding your attention with just a look. yet, he was also so sweet in his own way. he often called you "dear" and "darling," and his rare moments of tenderness made your heart swell.

one evening, you were in the kitchen preparing dinner, the aroma of your signature pot roast wafting through the house. you wore a floral apron over your well-pressed dress, your hair neatly styled, and pearls adorning your neck.

onceler entered the kitchen, his presence demanding attention. he exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke, and you could smell the faint musk of his favorite brand in the air. he watched you for a moment before his deep voice broke the silence.

"the roast looks delicious," he said, his eyes never leaving you. "but you know i prefer it medium-rare."

you nodded, setting the utensils down. "of course, dear. i'll adjust the cooking time."

he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "that's better. you know how to please me."

onceler's dominant nature was always present, but it wasn't unkind. he appreciated the effort you put into being a good wife. as you continued to prepare dinner, he watched your every move, his critical eye noting the details you'd overlooked.

but it was the evenings when the two of you retired to the living room, the soft glow of the vintage lamp casting warm light, that you cherished the most. he'd sit back in his armchair, cigar in hand, and you'd join him on the floor by his feet, your head resting against his leg.

his fingers would run through your hair as he spoke, sharing stories of his business ventures and his day. he'd ask about your activities and interests, showing genuine interest in your world.

it was a life of duality, but one that you had chosen. onceler may have been demanding, but he was also loving and appreciative. in his own way, he showed his affection and made you feel cherished as his dear housewife.

#ONCELER 1972 #onceler #greedler #y/n #reader insert #x reader #the lorax #ask #onceler x reader #greedler x reader

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 10 months

Text

Johnny and Dora | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Gun use, mention of alcohol, not proofread

Author's note: This is basically the episode from Brooklyn 99 in season two where Amy and Jake get together. I'm fully aware that the BAU might not work on an identity theft case, but let's just pretend they do for the sake of this story, yeah?

Words: 4.078

Y/N wasn’t too sure how she’d ended up in this position. One minute she was trying to catch Brooklyn’s most prolific identity thief they had been chasing for days in New York, the next she had her co-worker pressed up against a tree with her lips on his.

It had all started when the BAU team was sent to Brooklyn, New York to investigate an identity theft that had been haunting Brooklyn for a couple months now. The team was working hard to find the man responsible for the crime, working every possible angle and trying to figure out the how and why before actually going en-route to catch the guy.

“Tonight, Augustine will be handing off the laptop to a buyer from China,” Detective Peralta told them, concluding his briefing to the BAU team.

Hotch nodded his head before turning to his team. “Reid, Y/L/N, I want you tailing Augustine until he makes the drop, then arrest him and the buyer.”

“Good call, though I suppose I could take Morgan,” Spencer objected with a light tone. “I’m sure Y/L/N has something better to do…”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, confused as to why he would say that.

“Really?” asked Spencer. “‘Cause I swore I overheard you saying to Prentiss you didn’t like… tailing… people…”

Y/N stared at him with an incredulous look. “You think I said that?”

“Word for word,” Spencer said with a slow nod of his head as though he was trying to convince no one but himself.

Y/N stared at the man in disbelief until Hotch cut in between the two. “All right, enough. Prentiss and Morgan will join them in a surveillance van.”

The detectives and the BAU team all dispersed. Y/N was determined to find out what was happening with Spencer. They had gotten along since the day she joined the team over a year ago. To say his sudden change of demeanor towards her confused her was an understatement.

“Okay, what did I do?” she asked, slamming the door of the breakroom shut so the two of them had some privacy. Spencer looked up from where he was making his coffee, confusion written in his eyes. “Why are you so bent on keeping me off this case?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer muttered as he turned back to his coffee.

Scoffing, y/n shook her head. “Come on, Spence. Is it because I finished your report for you last week? Because I was just trying to help you. I knew you wanted to leave early to call your mother.”

With a sigh, Spencer turned to look at the woman. “I don’t care about that. I appreciate you doing that.”

“Then what is it?”

Inhaling deeply as if to calm himself down, Spencer put down his hot coffee again and took a few tentative steps towards y/n. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep him from fidgeting so much. “The reason I didn’t want to work with you is–” he puffed out a nervous breath. “C-can you not look at me like that?” he asked, suddenly changing the topic.

Y/N was looking at him with interest, her head tilted ever so slightly, her eyes swimming with worry.

“Like what?”

“Never mind,” he grumbled and went back to his coffee.

“No, Spence. Tell me what’s going on so I can fix it. I hate having you mad at me.”

Taking another deep breath, Spencer’s eyes met y/n’s. “Fine… I just… Remember when you told me you’d never want to date any law enforcement?” Y/N nodded her head slowly, trying to understand what he was saying. “It kinda… It kinda bummed me out?”

“What?” The one-worded question came out in a soft whisper.

“I was kind of thinking about asking you out…”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. “Oh… Okay…” she brought out, not really sure what else to tell him.

“But I know that that’s not what you want, and I totally get it…”

“Spence…” y/n heaved in a deep breath. “This is weird… And the whole reason for me not dating anyone in the field is so it wouldn’t be weird at work, you know?”

Spencer offered her a soft smile. “Okay, then just– let’s make it not weird, okay? This is a case; we work cases together all the time, and we’re really good at it, so, you know, we’re professionals.”

“That’s all I want,” y/n responded steadfastly. “For us to be professional.”

Nodding his head, Spencer reached for his coffee again and as he passed y/n, he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

Later that day, Spencer, y/n, Derek and Emily followed behind Augustine in their surveillance van. The bright red car they’d been following brought them to a fancy-looking restaurant.

Confused, y/n turned to her co-workers. “Why’s he getting out here?” she asked. “I thought that detective told us he was going to be dropping it off at the park?”

“Maybe he’s having dinner with his sidepiece first,” Emily countered.

Y/N’s eyes landed on the object in Augustine’s hand. “He’s got the laptop with him,” she told them. “We should just arrest him right here.”

“No,” Spencer replied. “The buyer’s the bigger collar. We gotta follow him in and wait for the handoff.”

Nodding her head, y/n moved to open the door, only for Derek to stop her. “You can’t go in like that. You look like FBI.”

“Right, you’re right,” y/n whispered as she shook off her blazer and unbuttoned her shirt a little further. “How’s that?” she asked Spencer, who was sitting next to her. A blush fanned his cheeks and reached the tips of his ears as he turned away from her.

“I don’t know,” he stuttered.

Emily chuckled at Spencer’s nervous behavior while Derek shook off his leather jacket. “Here, wear this,” Derek said and handed the black piece of clothing to her. Surprisingly, Derek’s jacket fit her very well.

Once the jacket was hanging off her shoulders, she turned to Spencer and untied his tie. “What are you doing?” he asked, nervously while she lifted his tie over his head and handed it to Emily.

“For heaven’s sake, Spence, just trust me,” she all but grumbled and unbuttoned a couple of his buttons too. “All right, think we’re good to go.”

The two of them walked inside the restaurant, scanning the place for the suspect. “Did you know that restaurants are germ-infected? Even the tables are germ-hotspots, especially during rush-hours when the staff is more focused on giving peop–”

“Spence,” y/n nudged him to shut him up.

“Right, sorry,” he whispered. “Do you have eyes on–”

Y/N grabbed his arm and cleared her throat. Once Spencer’s eyes landed on who she had seen, he smiled politely. “The hostess stand,” he finished his sentence. “Hi. Table for two, please.”

The suspect and his girlfriend were right in front of him, talking to the hostess.

“Oh, I’m sorry, there’s nothing available. We’re totally booked up,” the woman replied.

Knowing they weren’t going to get in unless they had a really good reason for the woman to make an exception. Without thinking twice about it, she grabbed Spencer’s bicep and leaned in closer to him. “Oh, that’s horrible. Tonight’s a really big night for us. Johnny and I just got engaged and this is where we had our first date,” she said dreamily.

Spencer looked down at her for a moment in surprise. Over the years of having known her, he’d wanted her to say something along those lines for a very long time. While she was oblivious to his little crush, the rest of their co-workers weren’t, which is why it was always them two who got paired up to do stuff like this.

“Oh, yeah, it would mean so much to Dora and me…” Spencer chimed in, jumping on the idea immediately. “I-I would’ve made reservations, but I didn’t know if she was going to say yes…”

“Aww, I love how nervous you were, you little goose,” she cooed before leaning up and kissing his cheek, catching the man completely off guard.

The look he gave her was one of surprise mixed with confusion. He had no clue what was happening.

“You two are just the cutest,” the hostess said with a hand over her heart. “I’m sure we can find room for two young lovers.”

It was the way she said it that made the butterflies in her stomach well up. Aside from herself, no one had ever even thought about them being lovers, let alone called them it.

“Yeah,” Spencer croaked. “We are two lovers… Together… In beds…”

“Okay,” she whispered, trying to keep her composure.

The hostess asked them to follow her to the waiting area and told them they just needed a moment to free up a table for them. As y/n and Spencer stood together at the high table, she couldn’t help but glance over at him. He looked very handsome tonight. Having decided to discard his tie and loosen up a couple of buttons was a good call. She couldn’t deny that it did look very good on him.

“Sorry about springing that engagement stuff on you,” y/n told him.

Spencer shook his head. “No, no, no. That was great. It’s what’s got us in here.” He inhaled sharply before jokingly adding, “The cheek-kiss was a bit much though. And wet.”

Smirking, y/n tilted her head a little. “What can I tell you? Dora’s sloppy.”

Both of them chuckled but before either could add anything else, the hostess reappeared at their table. “All right, your table is ready. You can follow me.”

They nodded their heads and followed behind the woman. “Okay, we can go back to being Spencer and y/n on the lookout for the suspect,” Spencer muttered, almost glad he didn’t have to sit through an entire dinner pretending he was madly in love with her as it wouldn’t even be pretending on his part. It would kill him knowing that all of it would be over when the case was done.

“All right, there you go,” the hostess said, placing down the menus on their table. When the couple co-workers looked up, they realized they had gotten a table right next to the suspect and his date.

The girlfriend gasped as she turned to y/n and Spencer. “You’re the couple that just got engaged.”

“That’s us!” Spencer exclaimed as he reached for y/n’s hand. “Johnny and Dora,” he said, holding up your intertwined hands. “Definitely a couple…”

Y/N and Spencer took their seats, both of them chuckling nervously. Augustine and his girlfriend even sprung them champagne and oysters to celebrate their fake engagement.

“Wow, champagne and oysters,” y/n said with a sarcastic tone. “You really shouldn’t have, guys.”

“Well, it’s a special night,” said Augustine. “So when did you guys meet?”

Not having practiced any of this, the two lovebirds weren’t quite in sync with their backstory. “Last year,” y/n responded while Spencer went for “Two years ago.”

Upon seeing the confused looks of Augustine and his companion, y/n chuckled. “We first met two years ago but we don’t count it because…”

“I was dating a super smart scientist,” Spencer finished her sentence.

“And I was dating the bassist of an up-and-coming Brooklyn-based band,” y/n continued the lie.

“Anyways, about a year ago, we bumped into each other again in a bar and…” Spencer turned to y/n with a soft look on his face. “We haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other since.”

Y/N hummed, unable to wipe the smile on her face.

Augustine’s girl propped her head up on her hand, her elbow resting on the table. “So, how did you know she was the one?” she asked Spencer dreamily.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his fake-fiancée. “I’d love to answer that,” he said, surprising y/n a little. She was curious to hear what he was going to come up with. “Um, you know, just whenever I look at her face… and the… attached physique,” he answered a little awkwardly as though he didn’t want to say what he actually thought of her.

“And you?” the girl asked y/n.

Y/N’s eyes locked with Spencer’s and she couldn’t help but smile as her insides melted at the sight of his honeycomb eyes. “He’s the smartest guy I know and … he makes me laugh,” she responded honestly.

“And, you know,” Spencer chimed in again, looking at the other couple. “There’s really no one else’s opinion who I care about more than hers, so…” When he looked back up at Y/N, he saw something in her eyes that he had never seen before and Spencer had studied those beautiful eyes before, remembering every detail about it thanks to his eidetic memory.

“Okay, so enough chit-chat, let’s see the ring!”

Panicking a little, y/n moved the ring from her ring finger on the right side to to one on the left before showing her hand to the woman. The ring was one she had gotten from her grandma when she had graduated from the academy. Y/N had always worn it as a token of good luck. It was the thing that kept her safe.

The girl gasped. “It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed as she studied it. The band looked like twigs from the rose bushes in her grandmother’s garden with a small diamond that presented the rose. It reminded y/n of the days she’d spent at her grandparents’ house and helped her grandma with the rose bushes.

“When I saw this ring, I knew I had to get it for her as it reminded me of the rose bushes her grandma had in her garden. Whenever Dora talks about spending time with her grandma in the garden, her eyes light up like a child’s on Christmas Eve and I just knew…” Spencer explained and though y/n knew in the back of her mind that all of this was just a ruse, she couldn’t help but turn into mush on the inside.

How y/n survived the entire dinner without turning into a puddle, she didn’t know, but she somehow managed to get through to dessert.

“Can you get the car from the valet, babe?” Augustine said to his girlfriend, handing her the keys. “I’m gonna go in the back and say hi to the chef.” Spencer and y/n exchanged glances when they noticed Augustine reaching for the laptop.

“Good luck on your wedding, guys,” the girl said to them. “Oh, have fun on your honeymoon!”

“We will,” Spencer replied. “We’re going to Waco, Texas,” he said a little too excitedly.

The girl looked at him for a moment before chuckling, “Huh, okay. Bye!”

“Bye,” y/n greeted, giving her a wave that she couldn’t even see anymore, before turning to Spencer. “Waco, Texas?”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer hissed. “It just slipped out.”

Shaking her head, y/n put the napkin down on her half-eaten dessert before scraping her chair back. “Let’s go, Augustine’s making the drop.”

Spencer nodded and followed y/n to the kitchen where they found Augustine with the chef. “Look, there’s the buyer,” y/n pointed out, but then got confused when Augustine didn’t hand over the laptop. “Or he’s just actually saying hi to the chef?”

As Augustine turned, his eyes landed on the couple near the door. “Oh, no. He’s seen us,” Spencer whispered and before he could properly think twice about it, he cupped y/n’s cheeks and kissed her on the lips.

Confused and surprised, y/n wasn’t too sure what to do but then decided to follow along and melted into the kiss. His lips somehow slotted perfectly with hers and the tingle in the pit of her stomach felt natural.

“Excuse me,” Augustine’s voice interrupted them.

“Oh, sorry,” Spencer apologized. “We were just looking for a place to, uh…”

A little groggy from that spine-tingling kiss, y/n finished Spencer’s sentence while holding onto him for dear life. “Boink…”

“Yep. Boink…” Spencer agreed. “That’s my preferred term for it as well.”

Y/N nodded her head to try and sell the point further. “I get it,” Augustine then said. “Newly engaged kids. Enjoy.”

The couple watched as Augustine was out of sight before springing apart. “Good. Good, good, good, good,” Spencer mumbled, trying to convince himself. We kept our cover intact. Nice work.”

“Quick professional thinking out there, Reid. Very quick. Very professional,” y/n rambled, not entirely thinking straight just yet.

Trying to keep up his poise and to remind himself that they are, in fact, working, Spencer held out his hand for her to shake, which she quickly did. “Agent,” he said ceremonially.

“Doctor,” y/n responded before the two of them headed out of the restaurant.

As the couple joined their co-workers in the van again, they felt a little awkward. Neither of them was saying anything. Not to each other. Not to Emily and Derek. The two at the front found it slightly weird that Spencer wasn’t spewing facts and y/n wasn’t singing along to one of her favorite songs that was playing on the radio.

“Okay, you’re being weird,” Derek pointed out. “What happened?”

“Spencer and I kissed,” y/n responded with a roll of her eyes.

“WHAT?!” Emily and Derek exclaimed simultaneously.

“It was just to keep our cover from being blown,” Spencer responded. “We didn’t have a choice.”

“Tell me everything!” Emily ordered, overly excited.

Y/N shook her head. “Em, there’s nothing to tell, okay? It was for work. It was nothing.” She repeated the words in her head to convince herself that it was indeed nothing. That what she felt when Spencer’s lips were on hers was just a reaction to someone kissing her. That it wasn’t because it was Spencer kissing her.

“Yeah, who cares about a kiss? Call me when you grab each other’s asses,” Derek chimed in. “He’s pulling over,” he then said when the red car in front of them had his blinker on.

“Nothing like that is gonna happen, okay?” Spencer said before citing some facts about how in theater, the leads of the play almost never fall in love with one another and that it always just stays on-stage.

“Guys, it’s not a handout,” Derek informed them as they watched Augustine drop off the case, cutting Spencer’s fact-spewing short. “It’s a drop-off.”

“Okay,” y/n said. “Em, you and Derek follow Augustine.”

“Right, and you two, follow your hearts,” Emily added, causing y/n to roll her eyes.

“No, we’re gonna stay with the package.”

Y/N and Spencer got out of the car and hid behind a tree to keep an eye out on the laptop case. The air was chilly for a summer evening, so y/n was glad she was still wearing Derek’s jacket.

Spencer turned to y/n. “We’re cool, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” y/n answered determinedly. “We’re fine.”

“Good,” Spencer nodded. “You know, I’m actually quite hungry. I never really ended up eating anything at that fancy restaurant.”

“Same. You know what I’m gonna get when I get to the hotel?” she asked with a grin.

Spencer nodded his head. “Yeah, you’re gonna order Burger King and you’re gonna get the Crispy Chicken burger with cheesy chili fries, onion rings and a grape Sprite,” he summed up without hesitation. The fact that he’d remembered her exact order from Burger King surprised her and surprisingly also turned her on a little bit.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna get…” she mumbled, trying to shake off the feeling.

While Spencer went on a ramble about what he was going to eat, y/n was distracted by the man a few feet away from them, closer to the package. She wasn’t paying much attention to anything Spencer was saying as she was trying to determine whether or not that was their UnSub.

“Spence,” y/n tried to cut him off, but he kept on going with some facts about the restaurant he always went to. “Spence, he’s looking at us…” Before Spencer could turn his head to look at whatever y/n was looking at, she had already grabbed his face and brought his lips to hers, pressing him against the tree.

Once again ignoring the feeling in the pit of her stomach, y/n opened an eye to watch the buyer walk off with the laptop in hand. She detached herself from Spencer and reached for her gun, stopping the guy in his tracks.

“FBI! Freeze! We are co-workers!” she yelled, mostly to remind herself.

“You’re under arrest!” Spencer joined in, pointing his gun at the man, too. “This is a work event!”

Later that night, y/n found herself in her hotel room, pacing the floor with her crispy chicken burger getting colder and colder with every minute she didn’t touch it. She couldn’t stop her brain from rethinking everything that had happened that day. Every time she remembered the kiss with Spencer, her insides tingled and her heart skipped several beats.

None of this made sense. She had been able to go about her days for the last year without thinking about Spencer this way. The thought had crept up on her once or twice, but she had always managed to shake it off. Why was this time so different?

Before she could rethink everything, a knock on her door caused her to snap out of it. She secretly prayed it was JJ or Emily, just so she could rehash the whole thing and get everything off her chest. Though when she opened the door, she didn’t find JJ nor Emily there, but instead she was looking into those beautiful honey eyes that had melted her insides mere hours ago.

“Spencer, I–”

“Can I come in?” he asked, not allowing her to finish her sentence. Nodding, y/n stepped aside and let him in, closing the door right after. “A lot has happened today, huh?” he asked, wringing his hands in nervousness.

“Yeah, I-I guess so…”

Spencer sighed as he let go of his hands and stepped closer to y/n. “Look, y/n, I don’t want anything to get weird between us, okay? I understand why you don’t wanna date anyone in the field and I respect that. So, can we just forget today happened?”

Going over her options, y/n’s mind skidded back and forth between every kiss and every word they had shared today. She could either ignore everything she had felt today and agree with him, forgetting about it all. Or she could take the plunge and try to figure it out with him.

“I don’t think I can, Spencer,” she whispered.

Spencer’s head tilted slightly as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wh-what do you mean? I–”

Before he could finish his sentence, y/n took two long strides towards him and cupped his cheeks, much like she had done before in the park, and kissed him deeply. At first, Spencer wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but he quickly melted into her body, grabbing her by the waist to pull her closer.

“Y/N!” Emily’s voice sounded before they heard the knock on her door. “Can we go out for some drinks?!”

Y/N looked up at Spencer and offered him a soft smile. “I’ll be right down! Order a Chardonnay for me, will you?”

The two of them waited until they heard the footsteps of their co-worker recede before heading out the door together. Neither of them said anything. Neither of them needed to, either. They knew what they felt for one another was real and that they needed to figure something out, but that was not going to happen tonight.

But whatever they would figure out, they would have to thank Johnny and Dora for pushing them this far.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh @Jassy122

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds

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jerzwriter · 10 months

Text

Sweet Start

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)

Rating: Teen +

Words: 1,050

Summary: Ethan and Kaycee start her 32nd birthday off with much to look forward to.

A/N: This will be leading into a big week for these two! I hope you enjoy!

Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist My Full Masterlist

The warmth of the morning beamed through the skylight and helped to nudge Kaycee awake. Snuggling against her pillow, she pulled the soft, down comforter over her shoulders and smiled. She wasn’t ready to wake up yet, but she was much happier than she typically was in the morning... especially before being caffeinated. Today was her birthday, the start of her thirty-second year. Most people believed it was the start of a vacation for her and Ethan, and they were right, of course. But they knew they were only a few days away from so much more, and she loved sharing such a delicious secret with him.

She dozed off again so she didn’t hear when Ethan entered their bedroom. He quietly approached the bed, holding a fine china plate with a decadent cupcake placed on top. He playfully held the plate in front of her nose, wondering if the sweet scent would wake her. When it didn’t, he had his answer. In the age-old question of what Kaycee MacClennan loved more, sleep or sweets, sleep had proven to be the victor. Nevertheless, they had a big day ahead... big days ahead... and it was time for him to wake her.

“Good Morning, birthday girl,” he sang, still standing over the bed.

With her eyes still shut tight, Kaycee broke into an adorable grin. She contemplated telling Ethan to hop back into bed; since it was her special day, he probably would have listened. But her nose picked up on the scent of the treat awaiting her, and that took precedence.

“Mmmm... do I smell something yummy,” she hummed, her eyes still shut.

“Why don’t you wake up and see?”

One eye peeked open, and when she saw the cupcake in front of her, the other quickly followed suit.

“Is this breakfast?” she asked.

“I know,” Ethan chuckled, “I usually wouldn’t approve... but... it is your birthday, and I want you to indulge in your every desire.”

“Really,” she simpered. “Then you’re doing this all wrong.”

“I... I am?”

“Shouldn’t you be serving me that naked? I believe that’s how it happens in the movies.”

“Oh really,” he laughed. “Which movies are you referring to? Not the ones where a plumber or pizza guy will arrive any second to complete this picture?”

Kaycee jumped up, brushing her messy tresses from her face.

“Ethan, whatever do you mean? My mind does not live in the gutter. Well, at least not this early in the day.”

She grabbed the cupcake from the plate with the enthusiasm of a child and licked a large dollop of the icing off the top. She let out a slow groan Ethan was used to hearing in very different circumstances when the sugary concoction coated her tongue. His mind began to wander as she gently breathed, “Oooh, this is sooo goooood.”

“Hmmm,” Ethan smirked, sitting beside her on the bed. “Ironically, that was the next line in the movie I was referring to.”

“Is it?” she laughed. “So, does that mean I should expect the plumber-slash-delivery? Tell me, are they hot? Like Ryan Gossling or Margot Robbie hot? Because, if so... we could make this my bachelorette party... after all, I only have a few days left as a single woman.”

“Oh really,” he growled, suddenly not appreciating the joke he had started. “You may be a few days away from being married, but you’re not single, Dr. MacClennan!”

“Easy there, tiger,” she teased. “You started this nonsense, not me.”

She placed the cupcake on her nightstand and turned around quickly, pushing Ethan against the pillows. Her arms encircled him, squeezing so tightly that he let out a small gasp.

“All jokes aside, can you believe we’ll be married in just three days!”

“I know,” he chuckled as she squealed adorably at his side. “It’s hard to believe. It’s even harder to believe that almost no one besides us knows!”

“Hey, don’t jinx it!” She warned. “We already caved in and told our parents.”

Ethan ran his hands along the soft skin of her arms, delighting at the goosebumps that formed as his fingers traced circles over her flesh.

“That was the right move,” he insisted. “Our surprise wedding is a brilliant idea... but our parents and Naveen... I feel better not blindsiding them.”

“Me too, and not only because my mother would have killed me if she didn’t get to pick out what she would wear.”

“I’m shocked your mother hasn’t told anyone else yet. Not that she’d do it maliciously. I just figured she’d be too excited.”

“Oh, she is,” Kaycee assured. “But Dad threatened her.”

“Threatened her?” Ethan asked with a raised brow. “With what?”

“With that cruise, she’s always wanted,” Kaycee laughed. “All joking aside, I know it’s hard for her to keep this from everyone, but she knows it’s what we want. All she wants is for us to be happy, so she’ll honor our wishes.”

“That’s good to know. Well, we have a lot on our plate in the next few days, but today’s your birthday... and it’s all about you... So, what would you like to do?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Kaycee smiled. “You.”

“I’m sorry?” he chuckled.

“Oh, I’m not,” She bit her bottom lip as the corners of her mouth morphed into a smile, flipping over on top of him. “Are you telling me you don’t want to do me, Ethan? On my birthday of all days?”

Ethan’s eyes went dark as the playful expression on his face all but disappeared. With one quick movement, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Surprised, Kaycee fell on top of him, giggling when she felt all the proof she needed that he wanted her as much as she wanted him pressed firmly against her lower stomach.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she teased.

“Turn the ringer off your phone,” he spoke gruffly into her ear. “You won’t want birthday calls interrupting what I have planned for you.”

Kaycee was eager to comply, reaching for her phone so quickly that she nearly fell from the bed.

“Now, what do you have in store for me, Dr. Ramsey?” she purred.

“Making sure your thirty-second year gets off to a rousing start.”

“It already has,” she whispered as his lips fell to her chest. “It already has.”

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