#mm i’ll answer asks soon hopefully i just have a lot of work to do >.>

[hajimine]

help i think i’ve got a fever

#—rolex! 💸 #my forehead’s burning a lil and i feel drowsy #and im lowkey shivering 😑 #mm i’ll answer asks soon hopefully i just have a lot of work to do >.>

[tails89]

Are you still taking prompts? I was thinking about a 5+1 Buddie or a domestic. Thank you so much 🏵️

Thanks for the ask! I went with domestic for this one 😄

Send me a bingo prompt

You can also read this on AO3

~~~

“Hey kiddo.” Eddie holds the door open while Chris climbs up into the car. “How was school?”

“It was good.” Chris settles in his seat and waits for his dad to climb in behind the steering wheel. “We all got seeds in science. We planted them to see how they grow. I can’t wait to see what my plants are.”

He goes quiet, and when Eddie glances up at the rear-view mirror he can see Chris's reflection, staring out the window, deep in thought.

“Hey, dad?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Do you think we could have a garden at home?”

Eddie pulls a face remembering the plant Pepa had given him as a house warming gift when they first moved to LA. She’d called it low-maintenance, insisting that even Eddie couldn’t kill it but by the time he’d finished unpacking the plant had been black and crumbling.

“Dad?”

“I don’t have much of a green thumb,” he admits.

“Oh, yeah.” Chris frowns. “You kill everything.”

“Hey, not everything!”

Chris gives a little sigh and goes back to staring out his window.

“Oh.” He brightens, straightening in his seat. “Maybe Buck can help us.”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Eddie says. Knowing Buck, the answer will be a resounding yes. It seems he’ll take any excuse to come over and hang out with Chris, which works for Eddie because he’ll use any excuse to invite Buck over.

It’s almost embarrassing, to be crushing on someone this hard. Eddie’s an adult, not some lovesick teenager. He shouldn’t be getting butterflies at the thought of seeing Buck.

“Can we ring him when we get home?” Chris asks.

“Buck’s working kiddo, but I’ll send him a text and see if he’s free on the weekend.”

~

Buck is so completely in, because of course he is and Eddie falls just a little bit more in love with him.

Eddie is woken early on Saturday morning by the sounds of movement in the house and the loud beep of the coffee maker. He pads out to the kitchen to find Buck, pulling things from cupboards to make breakfast.

“I gave you a key for emergencies, Buck.”

“Your cooking is an emergency,” Buck calls back to him moving to the fridge and peering inside. “You have eggs, right?” His head disappears behind the door. “Found ‘em.”

Eddie leans against the doorframe and watches Buck move around the kitchen with ease. He doesn’t need to ask where everything is kept having spent enough time in there already.

He stands with his back to the doorway, cracking eggs into a bowl. Eddie wants to go to him, to wrap his arms around his waist and hook his chin over Buck’s shoulder.

He shakes off the mental image and steps into the room.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Buck turns to look at him, rolling his eyes and fixing Eddie with a fond smile.  “I’m making breakfast.”

Eddie has nothing to say to that. He’s certainly not going to try and argue when the alternative to Buck making breakfast is whatever cereal he can find in the cupboard.

He makes a vague ‘go ahead’ motion with his hand and sets about making coffee for them both, sliding one mug along the counter towards Buck before taking a seat at the table.

“Buck!” Chris appears in the doorway, one hand on the wall for balance. “What are you doing here?” He rushes up to Buck, wrapping his arms around the firefighter.

Eddie hides a snort behind his coffee mug at Buck’s over the top pout. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.”

“Oh, the garden!” Chris’s face lights up in joy. “You’re still going to help right?”

“Of course I am,” Buck reassures him. “Our garden is going to be amazing. You just need to promise not to let your dad touch it.”

“Because it will die?”

Buck nods sagely. “Because it will die.”

“Hey.” Eddie reaches with his foot to poke Buck in the leg. “What is this? Roast Eddie day?”

“Are you going to deny it?” Buck asks, whipping back around to face Eddie. There’s an easy grin on his face and he’s laughing as he shoos Chris away from the stove top. It makes Eddie feel giddy with affection and he has to look away before he’s caught staring at Buck’s lips.

~

After breakfast Buck takes Chris outside. They stand side-by-side on the barren back lawn to check out what they’re working with.

Eddie watches shamelessly from the kitchen while he washes up. There’s something about the easy way Buck interacts with Chris that makes his heart pound in his chest. With the window open he can hear them both talking as they make their plans.

“What are you thinking, boss?” Buck has his phone out, tapping away as Chris makes suggestions.

“We should have a vegetable garden next to the house,” Chris says, pointing.

“Vegetable garden?” Buck teases. “Since when do you eat your vegetables?”

“I like some vegetables,” Chris argues.

“Yeah, like what?”

“Carrots—”

“That’s one.”

“And tomatoes.”

“Okay.” Buck taps his phone against his leg, brow knit in thought. “Oh, what about strawberries?”

Chris nods. “I like those.”

“It’s a start,” Buck tells him, writing it down. He glances up, meeting Eddie’s gaze through the window. “You want to come to the hardware store with us?”

“What for?” Eddie asks, opening the window fully.

“Well, do you own a shovel?” Buck asks. “And we’ll need a hose or watering can, soil--"

“There’s plenty of dirt out there,” Eddie says, waving his arm vaguely.

Buck laughs. “And that right there is why Chris is in charge of the garden,” he says. He ducks down to whisper something to Chris. Eddie doesn’t hear it but, judging from the smothered giggles, that’s probably for the best.

“Sure, I’ll come,” Eddie tells them, thinking at least if he goes with them, they can’t tease him behind his back.

~

They tease him to his face, loudly and with no remorse.

Eddie doesn’t mind. Their excitement is infectious and he can’t help getting swept up in it.

They leave the store with more tools than Eddie knows what to do with. He wouldn’t even know the names of half the things that end up in their cart, let alone what they’re used for. Still, Chris and Buck seem happy with their purchases and that’s enough for Eddie.

He leaves them to it once they get back to the house. It’s been made very clear that his help is not needed and Eddie has enough to do inside.

The life of a single parent means there are always chores to do around the house, but then Eddie will hear a laugh—Chris or Buck—and his attention will be pulled back out to the yard.

Eddie holds out for another hour before giving up the pretence of being busy inside. The day is warming up, so he stops by the kitchen to grab Chris's water bottle and fills another for Buck before heading out.

“How’s everything going out here?” He hands Chris his water and tosses the other bottle to Buck. “No ones chopped off any important body parts?”

“We’re making good progress, right Chris?” Buck takes a long drink. He caps the water bottle, dropping it in the grass. “Hopefully we’re done before it gets too hot.”

In one quick movement, Buck pulls his shirt up over his head, using it to wipe the sweat from his face before letting it drop to the ground.

Eddie should look away, should look anywhere other than at Buck. But with that one simple action Eddie has lost all capacity for rational thought.  

“Uh...” He manages to tear his gaze away, but doesn’t miss the knowing smirk that tugs on Buck’s lips. He files that observation away to overthink about later. “You’re not overworking Buck are you?” He asks Chris, latching onto his son for a distraction.

“No.” Chris digs holes in the fresh dark soil. “Buck dug up the grass but I helped spread out the dirt and he said I could decide where the plants go.”

“Oh, so Buck is overworking you then?”

Chris grins and continues digging.

“I guess I’ll leave you both to it then,” Eddie tells them, but he doesn’t head back inside. It’s a nice day, and even if they don’t want his help Eddie is content to sit on the sideline and watch while Chris carefully decides where to put each plant they bought.

~

They spend most of the day outside, pausing only to eat lunch.

When they’re done, Eddie sends Chris to have a bath and then offers Buck the use of the shower. While the water is running, Eddie looks through his closet for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that will fit Buck, leaving them outside the bathroom.

Once everyone is clean, Eddie orders pizza. It’s not quite dinner time, but he can see Chris probably isn’t going to last much longer.

He’s guesses correctly. Chris crashes out on the couch halfway through the movie he picked to watch while eating. There’s still a slice of pizza on his plate.

“I think you broke him,” Eddie teases. He pokes Chris gently on the arm but his kid doesn’t even stir. “You completely wore him out.”

“More like he wore me out.” Buck blinks sleepily across at Eddie. “This gardening business is hard work.”

“You can crash here if you want,” Eddie offers. “You can drive home in the morning when you’re not so tired.”

“Mm, thanks,” Buck mumbles around a yawn.

Standing, Eddie scoops Chris up into his arms. The boy is all limbs and he realises with a start that soon his kid is going to be too big for this.

“Give me a minute to put Chris to bed, and I’ll grab you a blanket from my room.”

Buck doesn’t say anything. His eyes are closed, his head tipped forward, chin propped on his hand.

Eddie quickly tucks Chris into bed then goes to his room, rifling around for the blanket Buck usually borrows when he stays the night.

Buck hasn’t moved from his spot when Eddie returns to the living room. He lingers in the doorway, his eyes drawn to Buck’s sleep rumpled hair then down to the sliver of skin revealed where his shirt is riding up.

“I can feel you staring.”

Eddie flinches in surprise.

“Sorry,” he mutters, moving over to the couch to hand Buck the blanket.

“’s okay.” A sleepy smile pulls at Buck’s lips. “You do it a lot.”

That stops Eddie in his tracks.

“You, uh, noticed that, did you?”

The smile pulls wider. “I always notice you Eddie.”

Eddie’s mouth goes dry. “You do?”

Buck opens his eyes, his gaze fixing on Eddie’s with an intensity that steals Eddies breath.

“Always.”

Eddie licks his lips, trying to draw some moisture back into his mouth. His heart pounds at the idea of what he’s about to say.

“You know, my bed is much more comfortable than the couch.” He offers Buck his hand to pull him to his feet. “Just sleep,” he adds quickly. “But maybe in the morning we could talk about... more...”

Buck nods slowly, more awake now. “I’d like that,” he says. “More. If that’s what you want?” He accepts Eddie’s hand, rising from the couch.

“I want everything with you.”

#911 #buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #911 bingo #911 fanfic #my911fanfic

[kaunis-sielu]

A Favor

“Auntie!” Anya says the second you answer your phone, “I need your help!”

“What’s wrong?” You’d learned quickly that her version of an emergency and yours were very different.

“My principal wants to talk to my parents!”

“Why?”

“Because I’m sick of Ted Cramer being a bully so I punched him.”

“Okay, so why are you calling me?”

“My parents are out on a mission!”

“Oh.” Keeping who Anya’s parents are a secret is the only thing keeping her in normal school, which was something both agents had wanted for their daughter. “I’ll grab one of your uncles and come in.”

“Not uncle Bucky okay?”

“Why not?”

“Um, last time he was here the principal called him a terror or something and uncle Bucky got really sad.”

“Okay, not Bucky. Are you in the office now honey?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell the principal we’ll be there soon.”

“Um, could you just say you’re my parents? They haven’t met them and you don’t travel as much as my parents do, and you look a lot like me. Since you work behind the scenes people won’t know.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please!” She begs, “otherwise they’re just gonna demand my parents come in and then they’re gonna be recognized and I’ll have to leave all my friends!” She sounds so upset that you cave,

“Okay fine.”

“Thank you! Okay I gotta go, I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon honey.” You hang up then and grab your purse to head out and find one of the boys. You know that Bucky, Steve, Scott and Bruce are all home. Bucky is already out and you don’t think Scott is around enough to be a good Clint substitute. You round one of the corners and nearly crash into Steve, “ah!” You cry startled at the sudden appearance of the Captain.

“Sorry, you okay?” He asks and you nod.

“Hey, I need a favor. Well, actually Anya needs a favor.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yea, just in trouble and needs two people to come to the school.”

“Let me get changed.” You haven’t told him all the information yet but he’s already ready to jump in and help Anya. It’s one of the reasons you adore the man, always ready to help his family.

“Oh, okay I’ll meet you downstairs?” He nods then disappears into his room, you make your way down to one of the cars and as you’re walking up he appears out of the stairwell. He’s in a black shirt, jeans and a grey jacket that either belongs to him, Sam or Bucky, you’ve seen all three men wear it so you’re not sure who it belongs to.

“You want me to drive or do you wanna?” He asks and you pull open the passenger side door in response. “Alright.” He chuckles then gets into the car and heads for Anya’s school.

“So just a heads up she’s asked me to pretend to be Natasha, well actually Natalie Rushman.”

“Why?”

“Nat and Clint are gone so often and since I don’t go out on missions to fight I’m home more than anyone. If Anya needs someone to come in again I’m the best option, I’m not a familiar Avenger. You might be more of a problem, having to explain how I know Captain America.”

“I wear a mask and I’ve got my undercover hat in the back.” He tells you with a grin and you laugh softly.

“Alright, if asked I’ll just say I work for Stark.” You say as he pulls into the parking lot. You climb out of the car and make your way into the school, Steve’s hat is low and somehow it does make him look less like Captain America and more like suburban dad.

“Hi, how can I help you?” The woman sitting at the front desk asks, it was too easy to get into the school, you glance up at Steve and see a small frown on his face. He must be thinking the same thing.

“Hi-“

“Mom! Dad!” Anya cries rushing you and Steve who you share a surprised look with Steve as Anya wraps her arms around your waist and buried her face in your stomach.

“You must be Anya’s parents, I’ll let Principal Decker know you’re here.”

“Thank you.” You tell her and the second she turns away you conjure rings for your and Steve’s fingers.

“Good thinkin’ Sweetheart.” He mutters into your hair.

“Anya, can you tell us a little more about why we were called in here?”

“Ted Cramer wouldn’t leave me alone, he keeps pulling my hair and poking my side and taking my stuff. When I told Mr. Sanders he just told me to ignore it so when Ted grabbed me at recess I punched him.” She looks up at you and that’s when you see the forming bruise around her eye.

“Anya who hit you?” Steve asks, his voice low.

“Nick Sanders. He’s best friends with Ted.”

“So why are you the only one in the office?” You ask, irritation building.

“Because the boys are in with the nurse.” A male voice says and you look up to see a man in a suit standing in front of you. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Rushman. Principal Decker.” He reaches a hand out for Steve’s and he shakes it coldly.

“Bradley actually, Clark Bradley. My wife kept her last name and since she did all the work we decided to give Anya her last name.”

“My apologies, let’s move this to my office?” He offers and when he goes to touch you to guide you into his office you shy away, Steve wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and when Principal Decker gestures for you to sit Steve stands behind your chair arms folded tightly.

“So you’ve called the other children’s parents?” You ask hoping that he isn’t going to disappoint you but considering he’s already pretty much ignored you you don’t have a whole lot of hope.

“Considering Anya is the one who started the fight we’re a little more concerned with dealing with her behavior first.”

“That’s not the story we heard.” You tell him, glancing over at Anya who looks furious.

“Well, you can’t always believe everything children say.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says through gritted teeth, “did you just call our daughter a liar?”

“No, no, I just think it’s unwise to just assume you’re getting the whole story.”

“I told them the whole story!”

“Anya if you can’t be respectful then I’m going to ask you to sit in the office.” Principal Decker warns and she folds her arms tightly over her chest, that’s when you notice the rip in her shirt.

“Anya, turn around please.” You tell her and there’s a large tear in the back of her shirt. “Did this happen when you were defending yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Fighting Mrs. Rushman.” Principal Decker interrupts.

“Maybe Anya should go out into the hallway.” Steve growls and you reach behind you to take his hand.

“No,” you counter, “Anya needs to be here to hear this just as much as Principal Decker does.” Your voice is steady, calm, “we have taught Anya to defend herself if someone has touched her when she has asked them not to. Ted Cramer has been an issues all school year, I know because I’ve already emailed Mr. Sanders about it.” Not a lie, as her godmother Natasha has you in their parent email so that you can step in if needed. He opens his mouth to speak but you hold up a hand, “I am not finished.” His mouth closes again, “We won’t be pressing charges against the school for allowing sexual harassment to continue,”

“Sexual harassment? Hold on a minute, they’re 10!��

“He has been pulling her hair, touching her and taking her things all year.”

“Little boys do that when they like little girls! He just has a crush.”

“I see you’re married Principal Decker,” You say gesturing at his ring, “do you poke your wife? Do you pick on her? Take her things? Touch her when she asks you to stop? Because if you do you’re an abuser.” His mouth drops open. “Am I pleased that Anya felt her only course of action was to hit someone to get them to leave her alone? No, I’m furious that her teacher and principal did not listen to her and made her feel like she had to defend herself. Now, how long will she be out of school? My husband and I have jobs to do and frankly you’re an ass.”

“Mrs. Rushman!” He sputters but you stand and hold out a hand for Anya’s.

“How long Principal Decker?”

“Three days.”

“Very well. Anya go get your things.” You turn then and make your way out of the principal’s office Steve behind you.

“Damn Sweetheart.” He mutters and you give his hand a little squeeze. Then he disappears with Anya to gather her things. You head out for the car, leaning against the sleek black thing in the sunshine. Hopefully Clint and Nat won’t be too upset with how you and Steve handled this.

“You! Are you that little Rushman bitch’s mom?”

“Excuse me?” You ask standing up straight as a woman comes storming toward you.

“You heard me. I’m gonna kick your ass.” She takes a swing at you that you see coming a mile away. You duck under her arm, step behind her and throw and elbow into her shoulder blade throwing her off balance. She stumbles forward and you turn to face her again as she whips around.

“My daughter took on three boys and only had a black eye and a ripped shirt. Where do you think she learned to fight?” You ask calmly as the woman rushes you again, you wait and shove her away as you sidestep her again she goes stumbling. Technically it was Natasha but the woman doesn’t need to know that. This time when she rushes you you don’t move, instead you catch her arm and spin her into the car pinning her against the hood.

“Mom?”

“Hi Anya. Clark.”

“Everything alright here Sweetheart?”

“Yea, this is one of the boys mom. She doesn’t seem pleased with how we decided to raise our daughter to not be a passive little thing who lets boys do whatever they want.”

“Fuck you!” The woman screams and you twist her arm painfully.

“Language. You’re at an elementary school.” You say coolly, “Anya honey get in the car please.”

“Anything you need from me Sweetheart?”

“Mm, her husband doesn’t seem too pleased.”

“Let go of my wife you fucking bitch!” He roars his truck squealing to a stop behind your car. He comes bolting out of the car and Steve sighs.

“Honestly. Who do they think taught our kid to kick ass?” Steve grumbles placing himself between you and the large tatted man.

“He’s gonna kill you!” His wife says from where you still have her pinned to your car.

“Friday, are police on their way?” You ask your watch.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” You say before a loud crash happens behind you.

“I told you to calm down.” Steve says and when you glance behind you you see the other man groaning against his car, a body shaped dent in the hood.

“Mick! Mick! Do something!” The woman yells struggling against you as the police roll up.

“I don’t think Mick is gonna be getting up anytime soon.” Steve says with a sigh. The two police officers come up and she starts screaming about how you’d attacked her. The police take her from you and when they attempt to cuff you too Steve speaks up.

“You probably shouldn’t do that.”

“Are you threatening us sir?”

“No, but she does work for Stark and the whole thing was caught on that camera so maybe check the security camera before you go slapping cuffs on people.”

The two officers call for an ambulance to check on Mick then one goes inside to see what was caught on the camera. When he comes out with a flash drive you’re free to go.

“Thanks Auntie. Thanks uncle Steve.” Anya says from the backseat as Steve pulls out of the school parking lot.

“Don’t thank us quite yet. You still have to tell your parents that you were suspended.” Anya groans loudly before pulling her phone from her pocket. “On speaker please.” You instruct, she’s a tricky thing.

“What? Don’t you trust me?”

“Considering I just played your mom and Steve your dad, no I do not.” She groans but does as you ask and calls her mom on speakerphone.

It’s not the worst conversation and you’re glad that Nat and Clint found that you and Steve played them entertaining. You make sure to tell them that you’ll make sure she gets her schoolwork done before she goes back next week.

“So, I was thinking we deserve ice cream.” Steve says once Anya hangs up with her parents.

“I think that sounds like a great idea. What do you think Anya?”

“I love ice cream. Uncle Steve you should ask Auntie out.”

“Oh, um.” Steve stutters and you glance over your shoulder at Anya.

“Anya you don’t just get to decide things like that for people.”

“But he likes you, and you like him Auntie.” Before you can say anything else Steve chuckles,

“Well she’s not wrong.” Steve says and your gaze whips over to him.

“What?”

“I do like you. So, what do you say? First date at an ice cream parlor with our niece?”

“That sounds perfect.”

#steve rogers #captain america #oneshot #imagine steve rogers #captain america x reader #Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers one shots #steve rogers oneshot #avengers imagine #avengers one shot #clintasha #clint barton x natasha romanoff

[palbabor-writes]

So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura. 

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask? 

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items. 

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question. 

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide. 

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly. 

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative. 

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city. 

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world. 

Now? 

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers. 

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies. 

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.” 

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.” 

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines. 

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you? 

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger. 

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence? 

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail. 

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite. 

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’ 

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him. 

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura. 

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time. 

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you. 

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible. 

He’s been changing a lot lately. 

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection. 

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice. 

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her. 

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something. 

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off. 

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner. 

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start. 

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is. 

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him? 

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command? 

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident. 

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed. 

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this. 

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you. 

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice. 

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).” 

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers. 

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).” 

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling... 

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms. 

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling. 

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing. 

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?” 

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on. 

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement. 

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right? 

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things. 

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and... 

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his. 

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open. 

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again. 

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost. 

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this. 

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care. 

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip. 

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for. 

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way. 

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)  

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @evesmores​

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

#asks #answered asks #ken fucking pens a novel #ken muses #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shimura tenko #tenko shimura #dabi #reader insert #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura x y/n #hehe #jealousy #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction

[queen-scribbles]

Meet the Family

Mass Effect Relationships Week Day 3: Missed Opportunities

The second I saw this one, I knew I had to fill it with the what-if of Gabe not being KIA pre-trilogy so Lisa actually gets to a) keep her surrogate brother and b) introduce him to Kaidan. This is immediately post-ME1, and for people unfamiliar with Lisa, she didn’t sleep with Kaidan before Ilos, even though she really, really likes him, so they’re still figuring out Them as a Couple(?). Fun time to meet the family :D

------

Lisa paced back and forth along a small section of the cafe’s outdoor seating, never far from their table, and picked at the edge of the bandage around her left arm.

“Shepard, if you peel that off, it’s gonna scar,” Kaidan reminded her for the fifth time in two days, barely looking up from the menu.

“Scars are badass,” she countered with a smirk. “And I-”

But the rest of her comeback was aborted when she spotted an approaching figure and hopped the patio railing with a whoop to charge toward him.

Fortunately Gabe saw her coming, so her enthusiastic tackle-hug didn’t send them tumbling into Citadel foot traffic. He laughed as he hugged her back, hard enough some of her bruises complained(she ignored them). “Hey Lise! Long time no see.”

Lisa’s only reply was a happy grunt, muffled against the side of his neck as she held tight. It had been pure chance after the battle she’d noticed one of the Alliance ships that went against Sovereign was his, and she was still relieved she hadn’t lost him without even knowing he was there.

When they finally let go, Gabe caught her injured wrist in a loose grip and shot her a significant look. “What have you been doing with yourself, Lisa?”

Lisa snorted and gestured at the damaged Citadel around them. “Playing the hero, of course.”

He shook his head with a wry laugh. “Of course. You never could help yourself.”

She snorted and lightly poked the scars that cut through his eyebrow and across the bridge of his nose. “You’re one to fucking talk, Palléon.”

“Language, Lisa Anne,” Gabe chided with exaggerated affront. He slung an arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, didn’t you have crew you wanted me to meet...?”

“Oh, yeah. That,” Lisa drawled, shifting his arm so it wasn’t resting on the glass cuts peppering the back of her neck. “Turns out only Alenko could make it, so he’ll have to do for now.”

She left off he was the one she most wanted Gabe to meet, but from the look she got, he at least suspected. “Mm-hm.”

“Behave, Gabriel.” She wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a request, but it set mischief dancing in his dark grey eyes either way.

“Yes, ma’am, Commander Shepard, ma’am,” he teased.

Lisa rolled her eyes and tugged him toward the cafe entrance. “Y’know, for bein’ like my big brother, you sure can be a little shit sometimes.”

“That’s my job,” Gabe said cheerfully. 

She lightly bopped the back of his head. “Please, Gabe.” This is important to me.

Something in her tone made him sober and he nodded as they stepped on to the cafe patio, letting his arm drop from around her shoulders. “Sure, Lise.”

“Thanks.” She was grinning as they closed distance to the table she and Kaidan had staked out. Kaidan pushed to his feet just as they got there and Lisa took half a step back to  not be in the way as she made introductions. “Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Major Gabriel Palléon.” (Why were her palms sweaty?) “Gabe, this is Kaidan.”

Gabe held out a hand to shake. “Good to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sir,” Kaidan said, smile warm but posture military-stiff as he shook Gabe’s hand and Lisa bit back a giggle. Bless him for wanting to make a good impression. (It was cute. When did she start thinking things were cute?!)  “L-Shepard’s talked about you quite a bit.”

“Likewise,” Gabe laughed. “But we can save the formality for on-duty, huh? Gabe’s fine.”

Kaidan chuckled as the three of them sat. “Fair enough. Though since Shepard and I serve together, I’ll probably stick to it with her.”

There was also the--probably vain--hope a semblance of formality would help mask whatever was between them until they sorted it out themselves. Which would hopefully be soon. She’d promised they could figure it out later, and she’d never made a promise she wanted to keep more. But for now, better to focus on the fact Kaidan was getting to meet the closest thing to family she had left in the galaxy. She wanted (needed) them to hit it off.

“So I hear you’ve been largely responsible for keeping Lisa alive the past several months,” Gabe said, taking the menu she nudged him with a nod of thanks. “She hasn’t been able to mention all the details, but that one’s come up a few times.”

“Oh, she’s plenty good at keeping herself alive,” Kaidan demurred with a small smile. “I just tag along to watch her back. In case she needs me.”

Lisa snorted and shook her head. “He’s bein’ modest,” she informed Gabe as she nudge Kaidan’s shoulder. “If it wasn’t all classified to hell and back, I could spend at least an hour filling you in on all the ways he’s saved my neck. And he brews the best damn pot of coffee--sorry, Gabe--I’ve ever had in my life, which has saved everyone from me on more than one occasion.”

“Better than mine?” Gabe asked in a faux-injured tone, but she could see the corners of his mouth twitching and almost kicked him under the table.

The only reason she didn’t was the server showing up to take their orders.

After they’d finished and the server headed off, Gabe sighed dramatically. “At least I know she’s in good hands.”

Kaidan chuckled, rubbed the back of his neck. “I do my best.”

“So, Gabe,” Lisa interjected, “one thing I’m dying to know; your unit’s always been out toward the edges of Council space, lots of groundside assignments. What the hell were you doing on a ship so close to the Citadel, anyway?”

Gabe shrugged apologetically and shook his head. “Sorry, Lise. Classified.”

She waved it off. It had only been 50-50 odds he could tell her anyway. “S’alright, I know the drill. What’ve you been up to that you can talk about?”

He pursed his lips in thought. “Supervised a couple clean up ops, but the last few months have been mostly ferreting out a pirate cabal that started getting a little bolder around some of our colonies and outposts than Command’s comfortable with. But I don’t want to waste time talkin’ about work.”

Lisa arched a brow. She had a sneaking suspicion she could guess the...  membership composition of this cabal if he was changing the subject so quickly. But she let him get away with it. “Okay, but work’s almost all we’ve been doing the past few months,” she pointed out, jerking her thumb at Kaidan. “So unless you got a new girlfriend an’ wanna enlighten me, there won’t be much else to talk about...”

“You didn’t have any downtime?” Gabe prodded, shaking his head in silent answer to her half-joking needling. “No time for fun shit on the Normandy?”

“Talking, card games, playin’ with my omnitool...” Lisa shrugged. “The usual in-between missions shit.”

“You and that omnitool,” Gabe teased.

This time she did kick him under the table. “Hey, you’re the one who gave it to me.” She smiled sweetly. “Thanks for picking a model that plays nice with upgrades and tweaks.”

“I created a monster,” he lamented theatrically, and moved his leg when she went to kick him again. “What about you, Kaidan, you do anything different than my favorite tech nerd, or do you have roughly the same idea of fun?”

Kaidan laughed. “Same, I’m afraid. Chatting, playing cards, tweaking omnitool functions.”

The server came back with their  drinks and assurance the food would only be a few more minutes.

“You have a favorite when it comes to cards?” Gabe asked as he took a drink.

Kaidan shrugged and shook his head. “Anything’s fun. I guess if you made me pick, probably poker.”

Gabe’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward, “Tell me you cleaned her out,” he said, leveling a finger at Lisa. “Please.”

Kaidan grinned and held up two fingers. “Twice.”

“Excellent.”

“Hey!” Lisa protested, fighting a grin.

“Your reign of terror needed to end, Lise,” Gabe returned. “You’re just lucky it wasn’t me.”

She snorted. “Like that would ever happen.”

“That’s hurtful,” he grinned.

“Gabe. I love you like a brother, and you’re very good at many things,” Lisa said with a matching grin, “but poker isn’t one of them.”

“I can help you work on that if you want,” Kaidan offered, ignoring the ‘Traitor!’ look Lisa sent him.

“And I might take you up on that,” Gabe said, smirking at her. Clearly he had caught the ‘Traitor!’ look.

“I’m feeling ganged-up on,” Lisa groused, still grinning.

Kaidan took pity on her and changed the subject as the server reappeared with their food. Gabe--still smirking--played along. It came out in the ensuing conversation they rooted for the same hockey team, though Kaidan was decidedly less... intense about it, and it was not Lisa’s team of choice.

There was no overlap in movie genre preference between the three of them, which turned into a spirited, good-natured debate that consumed almost a whole hour before Kaidan steered them to a different topic. Lisa gave his shoulder a grateful nudge for that; it was one thing to get stuck in sibling-loggerheads with Gabe when they were sprawled on the couch just shooting the shit. This was different.

All told, it took them almost four hours of friendly conversation--and frequent teasing--to start winding down. Lisa had a sneaking suspicion if she wasn’t the Savior of the Citadel they would have been asked to leave much earlier. The cafe was very busy, despite the damage surrounding it. She made sure to leave the server a large tip when she paid.

Kaidan and Gabe where shaking hands farewell when she rejoined them, Gabe just finishing a comment she didn’t catch that had Kaidan nodding with a small smile.

“Good to know,” he said, darting a glance at her. “And, again, good to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Gabe said, clapping him on the shoulder before he turned to hug Lisa. “Glad I got to see you, Lise.”

“You, too,” she replied, returning the hug with matching fervor. (He still gave the best hugs) “Hopefully we can get together again before going our separate ways, but for now, Alenko an’ I have a meeting to get to.”

“I’ll make sure to bug ya about that,” Gabe promised with a wink.

“I’m sure you will,” Lisa grinned. “See ya round.”

They headed off in their respective directions, and Lisa barely waited until they were safely out of earshot to ask, “What’s good to know?”

“Huh?” Kaidan shot her a bemused look.

“What Gabe said,” she clarified. “Or is that some guy thing I don’t actually wanna know?”

“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly. “Quoting him: Not to pry, but I think you’ll be good for her.”

Lisa huffed and twisted around as if she could glare at Gabe’s back, but he was already lost to view. “He- part of me wants to smack him for meddling in my love life.”

Kaidan hit the elevator call button, a curious smile just tugging at his lips. “And the rest of you?”

The laugh underlying his words nearly undid her. Lisa winked. “The rest of me agrees with him, so I’ll let it slide for now.” She arched a brow at him. “After all, we gotta figure out my love life b’fore I can get mad at him for meddlin’ in it, huh?”

Kaidan chuckled and let her step into the elevator first when it arrived. “Looking forward to it, Shepard. But lets focus on the meeting for now and us later.”

“Right. Later.” She bit her lip to hold back the flutter in her chest at his tone.

They rode in warm silence, hands so close their knuckles brushed, but neither said a word.

#queens fic #merweek2021 #lisa shepard #kaidan alenko #gabriel palléon #me: gives lisa an au where her surrogate big brother didn't die pre-game #me: wants to cry thinking about her canon AGAIN #i played myself /sweats #mass effect #mass effect fic #female shepard #commander shepard #mass effect 1

[backtothestart02]

Don’t Give Up On Me - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Idk what this is. It was gonna be the next Muse chap with just a couple paragraphs of angst, but I managed to change it into nearly 2k of angst and I can’t bring myself to write the happy ending tonight, so it’s turned into a two-shot that I’ll hopefully finish later this week. Enjoy. Bring tissues.

...

Synopsis: Early S7 - Barry and Iris deal with the after effects of the Mirrorverse on Iris.

...

Chapter 1 -

It was a dark, dreary day in Central City.

Iris sat in a light sweater, jeans, and fuzzy socks by the window, her long hair cascading down her back, her forehead pressed to the chilled glass, and didn’t say a word. She’d been silent all morning, sipping her dark roast and forcing small smiles towards Barry whenever he approached her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate him being near. Hell, she’d been without his presence for months, and it nearly killed her. Just being able to feel him nearby was a relief and soothing to her worn-down senses. But she was so lost in herself, still recovering from all that had happened, that on days like today with crime at a low and both she and Barry off work because of the weekend, she really let herself accept what had happened to her and how far she still had to go.

It had been three weeks since she escaped the mirror verse and together with Barry and team Flash defeated Eva McCulloch once and for all. It had given her a high at the time, and frankly she’d just been glad to be alive and sane and reunited with the people that she loved, especially Barry.

But as time passed she started to face the reality of all that she’d lost, the fact that her doppleganger had been able to convince everyone for so long that she was the real Iris. On the surface she didn’t blame anyone. Mirror Iris was a very good actress, because in a lot of ways she was her. She had the same memories, knowledge, emotions… But she wasn’t alive. She wasn’t human. She wasn’t Iris. And for months Iris had been screaming into the void, the ever-present mirror that occasionally let her see her family and friends, that they see the truth. And how could they not see it?

Especially Barry. Barry knew her so well…

Later she’d come to learn that he had suspected Mirror Iris right from the start. She had cooked better, spoken in a foreign language fluently, and hit some guy over the head with a glass bottle, a boundary Iris herself probably wouldn’t have crossed, even undercover. She’d spoken the truth about how she felt about Barry always putting her in a corner when it was time to fight the bad guys, but Iris would’ve never started an argument just for the sake of it. She wouldn’t have made her husband think they were growing apart or that he wasn’t proud of her. She wouldn’t have stormed off.

In the following weeks, she wouldn’t have shut down around him if he didn’t give her what she wanted. When he reassured her that he trusted her, she wouldn’t have merely smiled and thanked him and walked away. She wouldn’t have spent the night away from him while he merely sat reading in the dark. She wouldn’t have told him that it was for the best that the speed force was dead, and he’d lose his speed indefinitely. She knew how big a part of his identity being the Flash was. If he wanted to walk away from it, that was one thing. But to encourage it when he didn’t? She would have never done that.

The revelation that Mirror Iris had slept with her husband, both literally and sexually, hadn’t hit Iris hard at first, but in time it did. How could Barry not tell? In their most intimate moments, how was he not aware that it wasn’t really her?

But when she learned that at the same moment she had declared her undying love for him with her hand pressed to the mirror of another universe, so had he? She forgot all of that. How could she blame him, especially when he realized it was her after she did the most heinous thing? Mirror Iris had tried to fracture their marriage.

How dare she.

Iris would never. And Barry knew that. He knew it.

Everything started to align after that. In the end, Iris had saved herself, shocking everyone and slapping Barry with a burden of guilt unintentionally. Because she’d nearly gone mad, and he hadn’t connected the dots soon enough, and he should’ve been able to rescue her. He was her husband, the Flash. She might not be a damsel in distress, but she needed his help, and he failed her.

Her ever-constant need to be near him, to touch him, to make love to him helped ease his guilt. She was just so glad to be back and to be with him. She forgave him, she said. She loved him, she said. She never wanted to lose him again.

But that was the first week.

It had been two weeks since then, and Barry could feel them growing apart. Iris didn’t say it, but he wondered if she was starting to blame him for not figuring out she was gone sooner. They hadn’t made love in a week, and the last time they had, it had been the result of a fight. He had started it. He’d wanted to push her into admitting she hadn’t really forgiven him.

She hit him with the blow he hadn’t been expecting, even though his argument implied he should have.

“I have forgiven you,” she’d said, tears fresh in her eyes. “But forgiving and forgetting are two different things.”

And he’d felt so empty, he didn’t know what to do. Tears started to stream down his cheeks at the reality that she would never forget how he’d been with someone that wasn’t her, even if he’d been unaware of it at the time.

She approached him then and laid her hand over his heart.

“I blame her, not you. She manipulated you. She made you think I wasn’t your home.” Her voice cracked.

“Then why did you need to forgive me?” he asked sadly.

She kissed him, unwilling to answer his question, not really knowing how to. She walked backwards till she fell back on the bed and eagerly stripped him of his clothing, as he did hers. They made love that night with the intensity of a lightning storm. And in the morning, they were okay again; except they weren’t really. And Barry didn’t know how to fix it.

But he didn’t bring up the subject again. He didn’t want to fight. So instead he walked around her as if on eggshells. He did whatever he could to make her happy. But they didn’t make love since that night, and they rarely kissed, except for a peck here and there when leaving for work or arriving home. Barry still dropped off love letters at her work during her lunch hour, but she didn’t acknowledge them when she got home anymore like she used to. He wondered if there was any use writing them at all. For all he knew she was throwing them away.

His carefully written, poured from his soul love letters to his beautiful wife might be in the trash. And that worried him most of all.

“Want a refill?” he asked, now, in the present, forcing himself out of his morbid thoughts. Because the day itself looked morbid, and Iris looked sad, and all he could think of was to give her more dark roast, because hell, he knew she at least wouldn’t turn down that.

“Hmm?” she asked, turning away from the window to see him holding the coffee pot before her. “Oh.”

Her brows furrowed, then she looked down into her half-empty cup.

“No, I still have some.”

“Is it cold though?” he asked, before he could get down on himself.

She took a sip.

“Mm…lukewarm.” She wrinkled her nose and held out her mug, and he filled it up to the brim. “Thanks, babe,” she said and took a sip before settling in at the window again.

He nodded once, too afraid he’d say something he’d regret if he opened his mouth again, and returned the pot to its holder in the kitchen. He stood there for a while again, watching his wife. She didn’t seem to notice, and she noticed even less when he went upstairs to change and then sped out of the loft to take a run in the rain.

He needed to get away, to figure things out, to put his relationship, his wife, back together again. As fate would have it though, he was unable to come up with anything any more than the previous times he’d gone out for a run for this exact reason.

Realizing staying out any longer wouldn’t do any good, he sped and stopped abruptly once inside.

Iris wasn’t sitting by the window anymore. In fact, she was coming down the stairs when she stopped suddenly, spotting his sad-looking self standing in front of the door.

“Oh, my God, Barry, you’re dripping! Let me-”

She rushed to get some towels and help him dry off.

“I figured you’d left, but I didn’t realize it was to run in the rain. Of all the stupid-”

He tensed, and she stopped herself. She met his eyes and searched them with concern.

“Barry… Are you okay?”

And he hated himself. Because she’d been about to lash out, but she held back because she knew it would hurt him. He wished she’d just hurt him. This dancing around each other thing they were doing was only making things worse. He wished she’d just acknowledge it. If she couldn’t get over what he and Mirror Iris did, the least she could do was be upfront about it.

He didn’t answer, so she pressed forward as if she had.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” she suggested softly. “I’ll order some take-out and we can watch a movie after.”

‘You’ll touch me?’ he almost said but held back. That would start a fight. He didn’t want to fight, but he didn’t know how to act anymore.

So, he just nodded and said, “Okay.”

Iris forced another smile and headed into the living room to retrieve her cell phone and make the call. Barry sped up the stairs, lightning crackling behind him, so she wouldn’t see him dragging his feet the way he wanted to.

Then he entered the bathroom, undressed and turned on the shower. The hot water should’ve been soothing, a relief to him after the cold rain that had nearly drowned him as he ran outside. But it only made him want to scream, want to yell, want to shout. He wanted to bang on the walls because how in the hell did he pull them out of this emptiness.

The evening would be fake, put on as a means of not fighting and because both of them were tired.

As it turned out, when Barry finished with his shower and dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, he came downstairs to the sight of Iris sleeping on the couch. He lifted her up and carried her to bed. When the delivery man came, Barry paid him and stuck the food in the fridge. He wasn’t feeling real hungry anyway.

...

*Will post on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #don't give up on me #chapter 1

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Logan's Flawless Plan to Getting Out of Being Sick

Ao3

Summary: Logan was sick. He was well-aware of this fact. He was also well-aware that he had better things to be doing than lying about and ‘resting.’ His husband disagrees Content: Sickfic, fever + coughing are the only mentioned symptoms, brief unsafe binding, one alcohol mention, taking more medicine than the dosage amount, the consequences of that (gaps in time/memory, minor hallucinations, senses going fuzzy), half-collapsing, swearing, transmale!logan, transmale!remy, lots of sappy losleep Pairing: Romantic losleep Notes: Three of them:        -Based on this post        -You’ll notice Logan doesn’t try to keep Remy from getting sick. This is bc they both know Remy’s already doomed to get sick, given he and Logan live together. This was important to me to say bfchsdf        -This story’s in Logan’s POV. And Logan is very loopy. Keep this in mind.

~~

    Logan was sick

    “You’re not going to work today.”

    Terribly, horribly sick.

    “Yes I am.”

    But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing his job, damnit.

    Logan heard his husband sigh as he tried to properly tie his tie for the fifth time. The normally easy, effortless action had become difficult, his fingers slow and fumbling as he tried to pull the loop together. He dropped the fabric with a huff after another attempt failed.

    Hands that weren’t his own entered his field of vision, tugging the tie off his neck. “You shouldn’t be wearing this anyways.” Remy murmured, likely tossing it to the side. “You’re already coughing enough without it.”

    “I’m not coug-” Logan broke off halfway through his sentence, taking a moment to cough into his arm and think about the irony of the moment, “-coughing that much.”

    “Mm-hmm. I call bullshit, darling.” Remy said, brushing some of Logan’s hair behind his ear before resting his hand against Logan’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

    “I’m fine.”

    “You’re sick, is what you are.”

    “No, I just-” Logan once more paused to cough, Remy guiding him to sit back down on the bed when a few seconds passed and he was still coughing.

    “You want to finish that sentence?” Remy asked, tone slightly mocking but mostly concerned.

    “Alright, fine. I’m sick.” Logan admitted before continuing on petulantly, “But I’m still going to work.”

    “No, you’re not. You’ll just make yourself worse, and you’ll get all your students sick while you’re at it.”

    “They have better immune systems, and I‘ll keep plenty of distance between myself and them.” Logan reasoned. “I’m going to work.”

    Remy shook his head. “You have a minor death wish, babe. What’s so wrong with staying home and resting and being doted on by your wonderful boyfriend?”

    “Husband, Remy, we’re married.”

    Remy’s eyes widened in both surprise and recollection, and Logan let out a little content sigh, leaning his head against Remy’s shoulder. “We are, aren’t we?” Remy said, voice joyfully awed.

    “We are.” Logan confirmed. “I got you a very pretty ring for it and we exchanged some very cheesy vows and everything.”

    “I know. Just forgot for a moment.” Remy said, raising Logan’s left hand so he could press a kiss both to the back of his hand and over his wedding ring. Logan knew he should tell him not to, warn him of germs and the like, but he found it doubtful Remy would listen to him anyways. “Now. What’s so wrong with staying home and resting and being doted on by your wonderful husband?”

    “I have important lessons to teach. And it’s unfair to just abandon my students with no warning.” Logan answered. “They at least need a warning that I’m not going to be there tomorrow.”

    Remy rubbed circles into the back of Logan’s hand. “You really want to go in, huh.”

    “Yes. But only for today, I promise- I’ll stay home tomorrow.”

    “I’m not sure you can make it through the day, babe.” Remy said, concern once more leaking into his voice. “Your temp’s real high, and you haven’t even been up for an hour yet.”

    “One class then. I can leave a note for the rest of the classes. Please, Rem.” Logan begged. “Just one class.”

    Remy pulled his head back a bit, still allowing Logan’s head to remain on his shoulder while also letting him look at Logan’s face. “Why do you want to go in so badly, hun?”

    “I promised my students I wouldn’t flake out on them if they didn’t flake out on me. I have to keep that promise.”

    “I hardly count being too sick to work ‘flaking out.’”

    “Please, Remy, please?” Was Logan’s only response, using his new advantage of Remy being able to see his face by pouting. Remy always folded when he pouted. “One class. Just so I can leave notes for the students. Please.”

    Remy’s resolve against his pouting husband lasted for five seconds. “You know I hate it when you do it.” He huffed, though he didn’t sound very annoyed as he moved to card his fingers through Logan’s hair. “One class. That’s all.”

    Logan let out a sigh of relief and slumped further against Remy. “Thank you.”

    “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Remy said. “But I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t try to stay longer. And you’re staying home tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. And you’re going to get changed into your comfy clothes. You don’t need to be in your polo and slacks right now.”

    “Fine.” Logan said neutrally, still just thankful he had managed to convince Remy to let him go at all. Hopefully, going through the motions of the first class would make him feel better, thereby making him less sick, thereby letting him further convince Remy he was fine enough to work the whole day. A foolproof plan. Probably. “Can I at least leave my binder on?”

    Remy went stiff next to him, which Logan thought was rude, considering Remy’s shoulder was much nicer to lay against when the muscles in it weren’t so tense. “Hun, please tell me you’re joking.”

    “About what?”

    “Having your binder on while you’re having coughing fits, that’s what!” Remy said, sounding slightly frantic. “Love, you know I’d give you anything I could, but you need to take that off. Now.”

    Logan whined against Remy’s shoulder, not particularly inclined to feel childish for doing so. “I like it on.”

    “I know you do, starshine, and normally I do too, but right now I’d really, really like it if it was off of you, okay?” Remy said, still sounding frantic though his voice was very gentle. Ah. That meant he was really worried. Maybe Logan should take the binder off.

    “...Alright.” Logan mumbled, trying to not feel too put out. He was sure there was a good reason Remy wanted him to take his binder off. Granted, at the moment, he couldn’t remember it, but he tried not to worry about that. He didn’t need to remember all the important stuff. Remy would remind him. Remy was good like that. Remy was so, so good.

    “Alright. That’s good.” Remy said, sounding calmer. He pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead before getting up, making sure Logan wouldn’t fall over without him supporting Logan’s head before stepping away. “I’mma grab you your sweater, okay? The nice, big lumpy one. And some other comfy clothes. I’ll be right back, okay?”

    Logan nodded as he started to tug his shirt off, aware that his polo didn’t count as comfy clothes. Remy nodded with him before turning and wandering out of the room. Logan wasn’t sure where he was going- to be frank, Logan wasn’t completely sure where the door he had gone through led to, but he was sure that wherever Remy was going, it was the right place to be going.

    Though it took a fair amount of fumbling, Logan managed to shed his shirt and binder, having moved on to fighting his belt buckle by the time Remy returned.

    “Here, let me help you with that.” Remy said, dropping a pile of clothes next to Logan as he easily undid the belt, pulling it free of its loops before helping Logan to pull his pants off as well. “There we go.”

    “I took off my binder.” Logan said, a bit abruptly. He knew that Remy could see that the binder was off and next to him, but he felt he had to say it too, just in case, to make sure Remy wouldn’t start sounding frantic and worried again. Logan didn’t like when Remy sounded like that. Remy shouldn’t have to be frantic and worried.

    “I know, love, I saw.” Remy said, reaching up to cup Logan’s cheek. “And I’m so proud of you for doing that. You did very good, yeah?”

    Logan nodded. “Yeah.”

    Remy smiled at him. “Let’s get you into these nice comfy clothes now, okay? Then we can go and make sure you’re not late for class while also being very cozy and very lumpy. And I’ll be lumpy too so we can both suffer the world binder-less together, because I’m pretty sure that’s what true love is.”

    “True love is you.” Logan said, and while he wasn’t quite sure where the words came from, or exactly what they meant, he was sure he meant them.

    Remy chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re loopy.” He said, picking up the first article of clothing on the pile- a pair of dark sweatpants. “Now come on. Let’s get you dressed.”

    It took ten minutes for Logan to get dressed, mostly because he insisted on trying to put on each article of clothing himself, only to be forced to accept Remy’s help when he proved unable to fully pull anything over his head. He did, however, manage to get the pants on by himself, and he decided that was the greatest achievement of his life.

    Remy got himself dressed while Logan put on his shoes and prepared his ‘secret weapon’, only taking three minutes to get on an outfit nearly identical to Logan’s, which Logan considered to be unfair. He looked good, too, even in his bigger jacket and with his tousled hair. Logan felt and looked like a lump. A hot, frustrated lump. Though maybe that was the minor fever.

    Logan took a swig of his secret weapon and tried not to choke on the taste. Hopefully the fever would be taken care of soon enough. And he could deal with being a lump if it made Remy happy.

    At Logan’s grimace after his sip, Remy, who was waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, raised an eyebrow. “Forgot to add the sugar to your tea?”

    Logan shook his head. “Not tea.”

    “...What is it?”

    “My secret weapon.”

    Remy frowned. “Logan, honey, I can’t let you drink vodka while you’re sick. Or whiskey. Or whatever alcohol you have in there. And I definitely can’t let you bring it to school-”

    “It’s not alcohol!” Logan defended, just managing to bite back on a ‘mostly.’ That wasn’t going to help him or his mission.

    Remy’s eyes widened. “Rat poison is worse.”

    “Why do you- it’s not rat poison either, I promise.” Logan said, taking Remy’s hand and squeezing it. “It’s just some tea. My throat’s raw, that’s all.”

    “...I thought it wasn’t tea?”

    “Did I say that?” Logan asked, because he really wasn’t sure. Everything felt fuzzy, memory included. He hoped that meant the secret weapon was kicking in and not that his fever was getting worse. He had things to do.

    Remy was still watching him a bit too closely and Logan realized he hadn’t given a very good answer. “We should be going.” He said, hoping that would distract Remy. He knew pushing the point that he was only drinking tea would result in Remy wanting to taste said tea to be sure he wasn’t lying and Logan knew that wasn’t going to work.

    Luckily for him, Remy let it slide.

    “Yeah, we should.” He agreed, reaching over to grab his coffee before wrapping his free arm around Logan’s waist, pulling him close as they started to head for the door. “I already got the keys in my pocket.”

    “I can walk perfectly well on my own, you know.” Logan pointed out, even as he leaned into Remy’s grasp. Just because he didn’t need to be coddled didn’t mean he didn’t like to be near to his husband.

    Remy chuckled. “I know, babe, but I also know that you keep wobbling with every other step. I don’t need you adding a bad fall to your list of problems.” He teased. When he got to the door, however, he stopped before opening it, glancing at Logan with light concern. “Are you sure you want to go to work? I know you want to warn your students you’ll be gone, but the more rest you get, the quicker you’ll be better-”

    Logan silenced Remy by leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’ll be just fine, dear.” Logan said as smoothly as he could. “But your worry is appreciated.”

    Remy didn’t seem wholly convinced, but he still nodded, pressing a quick return kiss to the top of Logan’s head. “Alright. I believe you.” He said before he moved to open the door, somehow managing the feat despite still holding his coffee cup. Leaning slightly more into his touch, Logan allowed Remy to lead him out to the car.

    The ride to the university Logan worked at was unimpressive, mostly due to the fact that Logan barely remembered a minute of it. He felt as if all his senses were going fuzzy at the edges, what little focus he had left becoming untrustworthy as he could’ve sworn he saw green stars dancing across the windshield at some point during the drive. The lack of feeling was, however, sufficiently numbing the pain of his fever, so Logan was taking that as a plus.

    He only realized they were at the university when Remy was shaking his arm, looking at him funny as Logan partially snapped out of the daze he had been in.

    “Are you sure you’re okay, sugar?” Remy asked, sounding once more worried. Logan frowned. He didn’t want Remy to sound worried. “We can go home if you need to…”

    Logan shook his head instinctively when he heard home. He couldn’t go home. The whole point of this was to be at work and get into his schedule and pretend everything was fine until it was and feel better so that Remy didn’t have to be worried.

    “If you’re sure.” Remy said, though he certainly didn’t sound very sure. Logan frowned more as Remy helped him get out of the car, leaning against him without comment this time. Remy made a very good support. Especially when the entire world was jumping up and down. Repeatedly.

    The walk from the parking lot to his classroom was not one Logan remembered, but Logan tried not to let that bother him. He must have drunk more of his secret weapon, though, because the world was starting to become easier to focus on again. The world was also filled with purple and yellow scars that seemed to be tearing apart the fabric of reality, but Logan was fairly certain those were always there.

    A blink took him from outside his classroom to inside, where he found his class already waiting for him, all eyes on him and Remy as soon as they entered. Good. They were there, and he could see them clearly. Double win.

    “Professor…?” One of the students (send Logan home if he knew which one) said hesitantly. Probably confused by why Remy was there.

    Logan patted Remy’s shoulder, hoping that would signal to him that Logan didn’t need his support anymore. Remy promptly let go of him, albeit slowly, watching Logan carefully to make sure he didn’t fall over the moment he stood on his own. Did Logan wobble? No, not at all.

    ...Maybe a little.

    Logan rubbed at the new bruise he had on his hip that may or may not have come from him stumbling into a desk, hard. Okay, maybe a lot. But it was fine, he was fine- he hadn’t fallen over, yet, and that was what really mattered.

    By the time he had made it to his desk, set in the center of the front of the room for a reason Logan was sure was very logical, all eyes were on him, including the eyes that were normally still on their phones or closed in faux rest. Another point in his favor. No need to call the class’s attention when he already had it.

    Of course, now he needed something to start the lesson with. What was the lesson anyways? Actually, while he was wondering, what class did he teach? How was Logan going to start a class he knew nothing about?

    Logan’s gaze flickered to the corner of the classroom, ignoring the sea of concerned looks from his students to focus on the concerned look from Remy, who had even taken his sunglasses off just so Logan could see it. If he had ever had them on. Had he? Didn’t matter. Unimportant. What was important was that Logan had an idea: if he didn’t know how to start class, he would simply steal Remy’s style.

    That thought (and no others) in mind, Logan slammed his thermos on top of his desk.

    The entire class, Remy included, startled at the noise, all thrown off by it. The only reason it didn’t startle Logan was because he didn’t hear it. At the newly bewildered expressions of everyone in front of him, he cleared his throat, still channeling Remy as he began,

    “There’s more pressure in my sinuses right now then there is at the bottom of the sea.” A lie- the real problem Logan was dealing with at the moment was the fever he couldn’t feel but could taste (it tasted peppery, which was appropriate, Logan decided). That and the fact that Logan didn’t think it was humanly possible for his sinuses to be more pressurized than the bottom of the sea. Maybe it was. He should test that.

    But not now. Now the class was clearly waiting for him to continue, and continue he would, because he had planned an entire paragraph of this and he was going to say all of it so long as he had vocal cords.

    “This,” Logan paused. The container in his hand had a name. Too bad he couldn’t remember it. Logan clicked his tongue, deciding a substitution would have to do before he started again, “This thing’s full of NyQuil.”

    That sparked a reaction- gasps from multiple students, and one person he was fairly certain was his husband yelling, “That thing’s full of WHAT!?” Logan nodded to himself. Good. Reactions were good. They meant that his class was following along.

    “I’m going to drink it while I teach,” Logan went on, ignoring the continued gasps of shock and possible horror, “and when your heads are replaced by swirling rainbows, I will cancel the rest of class.”

    That, of course, was a ridiculous timeline to set. The students’ heads would never become rainbows, swirling or otherwise, which mean Logan wouldn’t have to cancel class, which meant he could teach the full class, which would certainly go over as well in reality as it had in his head, and when Remy saw how well he was doing he’d let him teach for the whole day through. It was a foolproof plan. He truly was a genius.

    “Professor… is that safe?”

    Logan was pulled from his thoughts and mental back patting by one of the students in the front row. He wasn’t quite sure who they were, probably because their face was blurring into the student’s next to him. He took a swig of the NyQuil. Hopefully that would fix things.

    “It’s perfectly safe, as long as I don’t die while doing it.” Logan answered, which was true. Another true thing was that Logan… didn’t know if this was safe. But NyQuil was medicine, so it couldn’t be too bad to take extra of it, right? Right. Right right right right right right-

    “Sir, maybe you should go home.” Another student spoke up, sounding concerned. A chorus of agreeing murmurs rose at the suggestion.

    “That’s what I told him to do!” Remy added from his spot leaning against the back wall. “But he said he had an obligation to not ‘flake out’ on all y’all lovelies.”

    “That’s a great sentiment, prof, but uh… really unneeded.” A student who Logan could see right through said. “We’ll be fine without you for a bit… you should get your rest.”

    “Don’t be ridiculous.” Logan said dismissively, taking another sip from his thing of NyQuil. He no longer cringed at the taste, mostly due in part to the fact he could no longer feel his tongue- therefore meaning he could no longer taste much of anything. “I’m perfectly fine to teach. There’s no need for me to rest.”

    “Bullshit.” Remy said, pushing off of the wall and walking towards the stairs, though he didn’t go down them just yet. “I love you hun, but that’s bullshit. Do you even know what you’re teaching today?”

    Logan frowned. “Of course I know. Why wouldn’t I?”

    “Then teach us.” A student near the back said, which Logan considered rude, because he was fairly certain that student was ganging up with his husband to… something. They were certainly doing something. Something trap-y probably. Normally Logan was very good at avoiding traps. But he had to see them coming to do so.

    “I will.” Logan told them flatly, doing his best to look as put-together as he could as he turned down to look at his desk. Surely, his lesson plan was somewhere there. That would have all the answers he currently couldn’t remember.

    Luckily for him, his lesson plan was right in the middle of the desk, easy to see and grab. Perfect. Now, if the words on it would just stop dancing, Logan would have everything he needed to convince his husband and class he was perfectly fine.

    Logan drank more of his no-longer-a-secret secret weapon as he lifted the paper up to his face, hoping that by decreasing the distance between his face and the paper he would also decrease the dancing of the letters. He was fairly certain it would work because ‘distance’ ‘decrease’ and ‘dance’ all started with the letter ‘d.’

    Sadly, his perfect theory was somehow proven wrong- the letters got closer together when he raised the paper, but they didn’t stop dancing, now waving and wiggling in place, as if to spite Logan and his attempts to read them.

    “Love?” Logan jerked as he turned towards the source of the word, surprised to find Remy only a few feet away from him. When had he gotten so close? “What are you doing?”

    Logan waved his lesson plan at Remy. Wasn’t it obvious? “Checking the lesson plan.” He answered as he took another sip from his thing, ignoring Remy’s frown when he did so.

    “I know I’m not a professor, hun, but I think that’s an attendance sheet.”

    Now Logan frowned as he moved the paper back in front of his face, squinting at it. It seemed the letters were now willing to still, albeit only a little, just so that Logan could see it was, in fact, a list of student names followed by boxes that, when marked, could indicate a wide variety of things. None of the boxes could, however, tell Logan what his lesson was.

    “So it is.” Logan commented neutrally, flipping the paper over to see if perhaps the lesson plan was hiding there. “So it is.”

    “Yeah… sweetheart, I’m starting to think it was a bad idea letting you come here.” Remy said, prompting Logan to look up from his search for the lesson plan to focus on Remy instead. That proved hard to do, however, given his face was blurring into a swirl. Logan frowned, feeling distressed. Remy’s face wasn’t supposed to look like that. It was supposed to be pretty and have a chin and brilliant eyes and other features Logan was sure he also loved.

    “Your face is wrong.” Maybe if Remy knew his face was wrong, he’d fix it, and it would look right and Logan wouldn’t have to feel distressed and upset and very unable to focus on mundane things such as teaching.

    “And you’re proving my point.” Remy responded, though he didn’t seem to be trying to fix his face, which was very unhelpful of him. Though maybe Remy couldn’t see that his face was wrong. Maybe only Logan could because of his stupid fever. Of course it was still messing with him. Nothing another sip of NyQuil couldn’t fix-

    “Yeah, we’re not having any more of that.” The thing was taken from Logan’s hands before he could actually get any of the drink into his mouth. He looked at Remy in betrayal as his husband opened the lid and glanced into the container. “How much of this stuff have you drunk, anyways?”

    “Not enough.” Logan said, reaching out to take it back. Remy just stepped away, holding the NyQuil out of reach. “Remy.”

    Remy just shook his head. “Nope. No more of this for you.”

    Logan huffed and stepped towards Remy, reaching out to try and make a grab for the thing. “Let me-”

    Remy grabbed the hand that Logan had put out, stopping his attempt and his sentence. “I said nope, sugar.”

    Logan’s focus had fallen away from retrieving his NyQuil, however. He was now looking concentratedly at their linked hands, slightly wiggling his fingers in Remy’s grasp- experimentally, not attempting to escape his hold.

    “...You good there, hun?”

    “Warm.” Was Logan’s only response. Remy tilted his head to the side, confused, before his expression became one of understanding. Still holding Logan’s hand, Remy bent over and placed the thing on the ground before standing back up and moving closer to Logan, taking his other hand in his newly free one.

    “Is that nice?” Remy asked, gently, which Logan vaguely registered meant he was trying to lower Logan’s guard and that that was Bad. It was, however, working, as Logan was now fairly certain anything outside of holding Remy’s hands was completely and utterly unimportant.

    “Very good.” He said, very eloquently in his opinion. “You’re very good.”

    “I know I am.” Remy responded, squeezing Logan’s hands. “I’m so good, in fact, I’m going to take you home now, because I should never have let you leave the house. A mistake, I note, was yours since you used your pout on me knowing full well I would not stand against it.”

    “But my classes-”

    “Would really prefer you stay home and rest.” A voice that was not Remy’s said. Logan was fairly certain that meant it was one of his students, but he didn’t look to check. He was extremely busy looking at Remy. “You look like you’re going to collapse, prof- just take the day off.”

    “I’m fine.” Logan said automatically.

    “None of us believe that lie, love.” Remy said as he released one of Logan’s hands. Logan whined at that, and Remy softly shushed him as he moved to rest a hand on Logan’s forehead. “I think the NyQuil’s made your fever worse-”

    Remy probably continued speaking after that, but Logan stopped listening, instead choosing to lean into the warmth that was now against his already too-warm forehead. The motion of leaning in was slight, barely a shift at all, but it was also apparently too much, and Logan’s hard fought for balance completely failed him. He tipped forwards, not bothering to try and slow his descent as he began mentally writing his will.

    Arms, warm arms, arms that were warm, wrapped around his midsection, stopping Logan from falling all the way over. “And look at that! You’re actually collapsing now. We’re going home, Lo.”

    “Mhmmm.” Was all Logan managed. Remy was warm. Remy was really warm. And nice. So nice. Had Logan been trying to work? That seemed silly. Work wasn’t Remy.

    Speaking of Remy, he was shifting Logan, pulling him up a bit and resting his head against Remy’s shoulder, arms wrapping more solidly around Logan, all of which were actions Logan was immensely favorable to. He was even warmer, now, and even closer to Remy, and Logan considered these to be very good things.

    “I love you.” Logan murmured into Remy’s shoulder, because he decided right then it was very important Remy know that. “You’re very warm. And nice. And warm. And pretty. Very pretty. Too pretty.”

    Remy chuckled. “Don’t mind him.” Remy spoke, though Logan got the impression he wasn’t talking to Logan. “He gets sappy when he’s loopy.”

    Logan glared at nothing. He wasn’t saying he loved Remy because he was loopy. He was saying that because he loved Remy a lot. More than he loved… planets. And pencils. And peaches.

    “You’re not making any sense, starshine.” Remy told him, and Logan realized he had been speaking out loud. Remy pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s forehead, and he melted even further into his grasp. “But I love you too.”

    Logan smiled into Remy’s shoulder, ignoring the background noise of ‘awww’s he was sure was coming from his class. Remy scoffed at them.

    “Can we go home now?” Logan asked, because home had bed and bed meant lying down and most of the time lying down meant lying down with Remy and that sounded very nice to Logan right then.

    “Of course, honey. Can you walk?”

    Logan considered the question for a moment. He probably could walk, if he put his mind to it, given he had mostly walked here and he had been walking earlier. But, if he was going to be Logan (and not Frank, why would he be Frank if he was telling the truth-), he didn’t particularly want to put his mind to it. So he shook his head.

    “I think you’re lying.” Remy said, but he still shifted so he could pick Logan up- a move he had perfected back in their courting days as soon as he learned it was a near guarantee to fluster Logan. Instinctively, Logan’s arms wrapped around the back of Remy’s neck and he once more tucked his head into Remy’s shoulder.

    “Do you guys, uh… know what to do from here?” Remy asked, the question clearly directed at Logan’s class. “Because I don’t think you’ll be seeing your teach for a good week.”

    “You said two days.” Logan mumbled into Remy’s shoulder, though not very aggressively.

    “Yes I did.” Remy agreed as he started moving, assumedly towards the door. “That was before you drank half a bottle of NyQuil in an hour and collapsed.”

    Logan nodded into Remy’s shoulder. That made sense. Remy was good at sense. Remy was good at a lot of things.

    “If anyone asks, we’ll say the professor was here for the full period before leaving.” A student assured Remy.

    “And I’ll hold onto his thermos until he gets back!” Another chimed in. “Since you probably want to keep the NyQuil as far away from him as possible for now.”

    The class laughed and Remy did too. “Yeah, no, I’m tossing out whatever NyQuil’s left at home. If you get a chance, I highly suggest you dump out the contents of the thermos too.”

    “Will do!”

    Logan felt Remy nod his head. “Great. So… that was easier to settle than I expected. Though I guess you’re all getting a free class period now.”

    “We’ll use it responsibly, Mr. Professor’s Husband.”

    “You don’t need to lie to me, kid, I skipped every class I could get away with.” Remy said before he pressed another kiss to Logan’s head. Logan, who was more or less completely asleep, made a little happy noise. “And then I married a teacher. Life’s funny.”

    Remy let out a happy little sigh and Logan smiled at his happiness. “That’s enough from me. You kids have a nice day.”

    And there was a good chance that something else was said or done after that, but it truly was very cozy pressed against Remy’s chest, and Logan saw no reason to bother keeping awake when Remy was taking care of everything so well. So he didn’t.

    Logan wasn’t sure when he woke back up, but he didn’t mind that much. He did know that he was at home and in bed and that was nice. Logan also knew that the NyQuil was at least partially out of his system because his fever was back and it was back with a vengeance. He groaned, turning over and pressing his face into the nearest pillow.

    Next to him, he heard Remy laugh, and a hand soon settled in Logan’s hair to card fingers through it. “Hey there, darling.”

    “I feel like shit.”

    “That’s what happens when you’re sick but you still try to go to work.” Remy softly teased. “And when you drink way too much NyQuil.”

    “It was my secret weapon.” Logan protested. Remy laughed again.

    “Maybe stick to the more conventional methods of healing next time?” Remy suggested.

    “Cuddles?”

    “I was thinking more homemade chicken soup and watching old game show reruns, but I suppose cuddles might work too.” Remy said. “Why? Is there a particular reason you mention cuddles?”

    Logan huffed as he flopped over, glaring at a very amused looking Remy as he grabbed at his shirt, tugging as well as he could on it to try and pull Remy down. “Don’t be obtuse.”

    “Oh you’re so weak- oh, babe, this is sad-” Remy laughed at Logan’s poor attempts to force him to cuddle, gently taking Logan’s hands and holding them in his own. Remy smiled at him. “You’re cute.”

    “I’m sick.” Logan responded. “Cuddle me.”

    “And why should I do that, now?”

    “Because you love me.” Logan told him, shuffling over a bit so that he was closer to Remy, making the pout he then put on more effective. “And I love you.”

    “I can’t believe you’re using the pout again.” Remy chided.

    Logan pouted harder.

    Remy sighed, but he still pulled up the edge of the blankets and sheets, sliding in next to Logan. “One of these days I’m going to find a way to say no to you, you know.”

    Logan wrapped his arms around Remy’s chest, pulling him closer and turning his chest into a pillow. “But will you want to?” He mumble asked, not as concerned with the answer as he was with falling back asleep and trapping Remy on the bed with him.

    Remy chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Logan as well, seemingly completely alright with becoming trapped as he dropped a kiss on Logan’s forehead. “Never. Because while you may have proven today that you can be wrong of many things, you did get one thing very, very right.”

    “Oh?” Logan hummed, only half-interested in knowing what he had gotten right.

    “Even if you do stupid things like go to work sick and bind while sick and try to drink NyQuil like it’s water, I still love you.” Remy said sweetly, once more running his fingers through Logan’s hair to help further lull him back asleep. “And as such I will always want to say yes to you.”

    Logan let out a small laugh. “You’re a sap.”

    “You should’ve heard yourself earlier, hun.” Remy said, chuckling when Logan’s only response was a hum and snuggling closer to Remy. “I’ll tell you about it later. Go to bed, starshine. I’ve got nowhere else to be and nothing better to do than love you.”

    Deciding he’d mock Remy’s accidental rhyme later, Logan happily did as his husband said, putting aside the burn of his fever to focus on Remy’s comfortable, loving warmth, quickly falling into a sleep as gentle as Remy’s embrace.

#losleep #ts logan #ts sleep #ts remy #the cryptid speaks #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #sickfic #this is v self-indulgent i hope y'all know shbdjfs #also i dislke the ending but eh endings always suck abfhsjdf #bls enjoy my chaotic stupid logan and his loving husband #also i've never taken too much nyquil so idk if logan's experience is accurate #bls for the love of goodness do not test this #don't be chaotic stupid that's logan's job

[sunsetinmyvein]

Put My Heart Under Arrest

Another Matty prompt list oneshot, requested by the ever lovely @aphxsia​~

“Ahhh, fuck…” I muttered to myself as I checked my pockets, realising that they did not contain my keys. I’d left them at that guys place, hadn’t I? That was going to be an awkward conversation later today, ‘Hey, sorry I bailed without saying anything this morning. Do you have my keys? No, don’t want a second date. Just my keys. Thanks, though.’ Ugh. Great. Now I’d just have to awkwardly stand outside my flat, slightly hungover, in the clothes that I wore yesterday, waiting for someone to hopefully rock up who had a key to the building. Standard Sunday morning, right? There wasn’t really a way to make this appear any nicer to those walking by than what it was, either. I sort of just had to eye the people ambling along the street, seeing if I recognised anyone from my building or hope that someone came out of the building who recognised me and would let me in. But finally, I spotted someone. There was a guy coming my way with a familiar mop of curly hair. He lived in my building; I was certain of it. I was fairly sure he actually lived on my floor. He didn’t seem to be around a lot of the time, but I’d seen him around the place here and there as we were coming and going. He seemed nice enough from the brief exchanges we’d had, but we’d not ever really spoken more than the odd ‘hi’ in passing. I suppose now was going to be our first proper interaction. Judging by the state of the floral button-down shirt that he was wearing, his dishevelled hair, the five o’clock shadow, it looked like he was doing exactly what I was. I flashed him a friendly smile, trying my best to seem approachable.

  He slipped his sunglasses off his nose as he walked up to me, tucking them into his shirt pocket. The way he was looking at me gave me the impression he was making the same conclusions about my morning as I had about his.

“Locked out?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh, yes.” I confirmed sheepishly. “It’s Matthew, right?” I was fairly sure that was the name I had seen floating around.  

“That’s me.” He said with a nod.

“Can you let me in?” I asked hopefully.

He let out a sigh, but the look in his dark brown eyes seemed amused by this whole situation. “Sure.” He shrugged as he stepped around me and headed towards the door.

  “So… Bad date?” He asked over his shoulder, fishing his keys out of his back pocket.

“What makes you think that?” I asked with a slight feeling of defensiveness. Was it really that obvious?

“Why else would you be sneaking home so early?” He laughed. “And wearing what you were wearing when I saw you last night.” He added as he pulled the door open for us.

“You saw me last night?” I asked in surprise.

“Saw you jumping into a taxi as I was leaving myself.” He answered. That made sense, I supposed. But I was none the less impressed he remembered such a brief moment when we hadn’t even spoken.

“There was… a lot of room for improvement.” I eventually offered, not wanting to discuss details. “You?”

“Mm, about the same.” He nodded, pressing the button for the lift.

  As we stepped inside, I watched out of the corner of my eye while punching in my- our floor as he pulled a tiny bottle out of his pocket. It looked like one of those little bottles of liquor you get from a hotel minibar. “Is that vodka?” I frowned. He just grunted in response as he twisted the cap off and knocked back the bottle. The sight made my stomach turn. To drink straight vodka so early? I needed to be pretty drunk to be able to tolerate it at all, let alone at this hour. “Isn’t it only seven in the morning?” I asked in shock.

“Hair of the dog.” He explained as he shoved the empty bottle back into his pocket. “What was so bad about him?” He asked.

I groaned, trying to work out how to explain it without taking up half an hour of this guy’s time. “Uh, well, it turned out his dog died yesterday. So, most of the date was spent with him crying.” I winced at the memory. “I felt bad for leaving him by himself when he was clearly in need of company. But we just didn’t click and he clearly needs time.” I explained.

“That was really nice of you.” Matthew said with a reassuring smile. “Hopefully the next one is better.” I felt like maybe I should ask what was so bad about his own date, but we didn’t really have the time in this short lift ride.

“I’ve been on more than enough mediocre dates to have had my fill.” He just chuckled quietly. “Starting to think I should take a break from the dating game.” I huffed.

  There was a beat of silence as the lift came to a stop on our floor. “I don’t think you should give up so soon.” He eventually chimed in, rocking onto the balls of his feet as the door opened.

“Oh?”

“I’m sure I could take you on a good date.” He suggested nonchalantly.

“You’re sure, huh?” I questioned. The confidence behind the offer made it ten times more tempting.

“You’re just down the hall on the left, yeah?” He asked as he held his hand up to the lift door, holding it open for me to walk out.

“That’s me.” I confirmed.

“I’ll come grab you on Saturday at six.” He grinned.

#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #Sunsetinmyvein #Sunsetinmyvein prompts #Sunsetinmyvein requests

[chaos-writes]

The Lost Boys: Road Trip

Based on one of the most vivid dreams I've ever had. Word count: 2,255. Implied romance with the boys and Star. Tw: none.

“I’ve always wanted to travel and go sight-seeing without any real objective, like moving,” said Lucy, in a dream-like tone. I chimed in, “I’ve had a cross-country road trip planned out for quite a while, but I’ve never had anyone to do it with.” “Oh really?” Lucy asked, “Where to?” “Well, it’ll be a round trip with touring both going and coming back. I'm hoping to go through Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Kentucky, then we’ll go north, through Ohio, and Michigan, then come back home through Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Oregon, then through the top of California all the way back home.” “Oh my goodness! That sounds like a dream, but also a lot of gas money,” Lucy exclaimed. We laughed.

 

“It really would be, but I have the money saved up in a debit account, so hopefully it'll cover it. There’s also hotels, toll bridges, food, water, all that fun stuff,” I giggled. “But it would be worth it, I have tons of film for my instax camera, and a couple journals to write down my experiences.”

I gestured to her, “I have a couple extras for people that want to tag along,” Lucy smiled but quickly frowned, “Oh, I would love to go, I really would, but I have to work and look after the boys and their grandfather,” she mused. I chimed in, “It doesn't just have to be you, you know, I’ve got quite a few people in mind who could benefit from traveling.” “Well, I'll have to check with my boys and my boss. I’ll let you know if I can or can’t as soon as possible,” lucy said, with a look of disappointment in her eyes. I nodded in understanding and smiled, “Well, whenever you do let me know, I wouldn’t be upset if it was a no. I would be sure to share every detail with you, though.” “Oh, thank you for understanding, it means a lot to me!” “No problem. Well, I guess I'll be on my way then,” I said as I opened the front door.

We said our goodbyes and I headed out on my motorcycle to go and see the boys. It’s getting dark enough out where they should be slowly getting up by now. I wonder if Laddie and Star are there, too. They usually are, but sometimes they’re out and about, since they can handle sunlight a bit better than the rest. I park my bike and I can hear distant yawning and mumbling from where I'm standing at the cave entrance. They all start to float out and stretch one by one, Dwayne being first, Marko being second, David being third, and Paul being last. Of course Paul is last, he’s the heaviest sleeper. This road trip would be nothing to him, if they all agreed, that is. I just have to do some convincing.

Marko slipped his jacket and boots on, and the rest followed suit. They’re all quiet when they first wake, that’s why I don't ‘show up’ until I start hearing conversation and laughing. However, I’ve got to wait for the perfect time to come in, when they’ve been talking for a while and can actually think. “I wonder what Michael’s been doin’” I hear Paul say. “I don’t know Paul,” David sighed. “Maybe he’s been avoiding us…” He paused for a minute, then said, “Anyone hungry yet?” a wave of “not me’s” and “mm-mm’s” spread across the cave. I hear Dwayne grab a torch, light it, and begin lighting the cans all around the cave. The -now illuminated- boys begin bantering about who they should target next and what they plan to do for the day- well, night.

As a result, I put on my big-kid pants and stepped into the cave. They all turned to me, Marko exclaimed, “Hey! There you are!” “Hey guys,” I said, waving. Laddie ran up to me and hugged me from the side. I patted his back and ruffled his hair. Star smiled at me as she greeted me with a wave. I smiled back. Marko and Paul ran to me and squished me in their arms.

“I have something to share with you guys. An idea, really,” I said. All the boys looked at me in curiosity until David spoke up, “Well, what is this… idea of yours?” I beamed at all of them and said, “You all know how much I like going on adventures…” they looked even more puzzled now. “So, how about I take everyone on a really big adventure? A road trip!” They looked contemplative, as if they were considering going or not. “I could go alone…” Paul's and Marko's eyes widened, “But I much prefer having company with me, especially on trips like these.” Dwayne piped up, “So... where would we be going?” I smiled and pulled out a map, “How about I show you guys?”

The boys, Laddie, and Star crowd around behind me as I point around a U.S. map and explain where we’re going and what I'm planning on doing. I point all over the map and across the northern states. "We can add on a couple more destinations if you'd like… this is just more of the baseline plan." "Are we going to any big cities?" Marko asked. "Hell yea! And we're gonna go touring at night and see all the pretty lights and stuff. It'll be so fun!" "I'm down!" Paul says. "Me too!" Dwayne chimed in. "I wanna go!" Laddie exclaimed. Star smiled, and turned to David. The rest of us followed suit. This… is it.

I smiled at David and asked, "So, leader of the pack, are you in?" He paused. We cautiously awaited his answer. Laddie's eyes met David’s as he silently pleaded to go. David finally broke, smiled, and said, "alright. When are we leaving?" The cave uproared in a fit of whooping and hollering, mainly thanks to Marko and Paul, and Star picked Laddie up and twirled him around. "You won't regret this!" I said to David over the noise. "Well, I'm actually looking forward to it." He said. 

We left to go grab a bite to eat, the boys did their thing and I took Laddie and Star to a little Italian place on the boardwalk to eat. I told the boys to meet us there when they were done. “You sure about all this?” Star asked. “Absolutely! I like having an adventure crew. I'll admit though, it's gonna be a little different with a youngin' on board,” I laughed.

After a while, Lucy finally agreed to go with our party and told her boys to look after one another. We all packed our clothes and bought some more for the boys. They needed clothes that were fit for the amount of walking. I also couldn’t let anyone see my boys in blood-stained clothes in public, we’ll look like we got in some freak accident. I rode my motorcycle and directed the boys to my place, where we have a big Volkswagen bus parked out front, fit for a party of eight. Lucy is already there after a phone call telling us she would meet us at my place. We packed our bags into the trunk, all 4 boys could fit their bags into one suitcase with vacuum seal bags, Star and Laddie share a backpack, Lucy has her own suitcase and I have my own backpack. There's a box of toiletries for us all, except for Lucy, who decided on keeping everything of hers separate from the others, which is fair enough. 

It was 9pm, and we made sure everyone went to the bathroom and was all taken care of before we took off. The first drive is twelve-and-a-half hours, from Santa Carla to Salt Lake City, Utah. We toured the entire city on foot for a few hours, and decided on the next driver to take us to our next destination. Before we left Salt Lake, I put all the pictures I took into a scrapbook and wrote down the notes of what happened that day. “Hey, guys? If you want a journal to write anything down about the trip, I have a few extras here! And we can go over everyone’s journals and keep them in a safe space after the trip!” I said, as we all piled into the bus. David, sitting in the same row as me, turned to me and said, “I’d like to document what i’m experiencing. It’s a good idea, considering we’ve got a lot of…time left” he paused. I gave an understanding nod and handed him a journal. Star, from the third row, said, “i’ll take one!” 

We continued across the country and journaled, and took as many pictures as possible. I will never forget how genuinely happy all the boys were, they were so used to the boardwalk and now they get to go places. Laddie would bounce around happily when we toured around on foot. Star and Lucy spent their time quietly admiring land and cityscapes. The boys would get rowdy and restless at night, desperate to get in a fight or two. I've had to intervene more than I want to admit. But overall, they were well-behaved and did great throughout the trip.

The most precious memory to me, though, is when Dwayne, Paul, and Laddie grabbed me to go for a walk. At this point we were in Cincinnati, we checked in a hotel for a couple days, just on the water. A few of us wanted to go walk on the Purple People Bridge before we left. It was getting dark out, so we held close together. We walked across the bridge, Dwayne carried Laddie piggyback style and Paul and I were walking close by. We got down far enough on the bridge that we were close to the water. The sound of the river was calming, less rapid than the water outside the cave. I pointed out all the boats on the water to Laddie and we watched the water and the city in front of us.

What the boys didn't know was there was an event going on in the city. Some sort of charity event, I was never really sure about that part, but what I did know was the boys were really gonna like it.

"Hey, let's stay here for a bit. We're not in a hurry!" I said. "Umm… alright then," Dwayne said. Paul looked at me in confusion, but didn't say anything. Laddie was falling asleep on Dwayne's back, but Dwayne didn't seem to mind.

Soon, lights flicker on, one by one, lighting the whole city in blue. "Look Laddie!" I said while tapping his arm. He hopped off of Dwayne's back and stared at the illuminated city. All of Cincinnati was now an icy blue, and I will never forget the look of wonder in Laddie's eyes. Paul and Dwayne shared the same look as well. We were all starstruck as the night sky before us lit up in a beautiful blue. Paul's smile slowly grew and he giggled. I looked at him with a questioning look.

He turned to me, and said,"Thank you. This is… was, amazing. I don't think you know how much I appreciate you. This…" I smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist. We held each other close as the city behind us twinkled and glowed. Footsteps came alongside us, the rest of the party decided to try and find us. "Looks like you and Paul are having fun," David said. I wasn't even mad at the joke this time. "We really are, why don't you join us?" I asked. David smiled and ran his fingers through my hair. He wrapped his arms around me from behind as I was hugging Paul, so I was sandwiched between them. Marko stood beside us all. David saw and invited him into the middle with me. I turned around and squeezed Marko as the others adjusted.

Laddie was excitedly pointing out every detail to Star, Dwayne and Lucy and bouncing in pure joy. "Laddie seems to be enjoying this the most. I'm so happy I get to show him these beautiful places." I said. "I will never forget the look on his face for as long as I live."

The rest of the trip went smoothly. We stopped in big cities, small towns, natural parks, and got to see part of Canada from the upper peninsula of Michigan. I wrote down two journals' worth of notes and had to buy another scrapbook to fit all the pictures I took. 

Surprisingly, the whole party responded well to the really long drives we did. When we made it home and said our goodbyes to Lucy as she drove to her own home, it was like this weight was lifted off of us as we stepped into the cave. No more stress of travel, a place to stretch your legs, a place to just be... in peace. Laddie hugged me as Dwayne went around and lit the cave up. "Thank you so much," he said. "You're welcome, little dude!" I said. "Yeah, thank you!" Marko and Paul chimed in. Star walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "Thank you for doing all of that for us," she said. "You really didn't have to." "I know, but I love you guys. The least I can do for you is take you on one of my adventures." 

#slash-writes #the lost boys #tlb #fic #tlb marko #tlb dwayne #tlb david #tlb paul #tlb star #tlb laddie #lucy emerson #tlb x reader

[catfe-overlord]

“Cold”

Part 2

Read part 1 here

::In which Bakugou and Kirishima are still trapped in a cave, slowly freezing to death, and luck doesn’t seem to be in their favor today as things only go downhill::

•••••••••••••••

It was probably the sound of teeth chattering that woke him. That didn’t make much sense because he was surprisingly warm in his sleeping bag.

Then it dawned on him. Kirishima.

Bakugou sat up, ignoring the pain that spiked through his back. The fire was nearly out, and Kirishima stood over it attempting to bring it back to life. Even in the dull light Bakugou could see how pale his boyfriend was.

“Dumbass!” Bakugou spat. “If you were this cold you should have told me!”

He looked over at Bakugou with sad puppy eyes. It made Bakugou seethe, disgusted by how fucking adorable it was. Kirishima had no business being that cute.

“You looked so peaceful,” Kirishima admitted. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You’re freezing, idiot. Take the stupid sleeping bag before I beat you to death.”

Bakugou wiggled out of the bag before Kirishima could protest. He kicked it over to the redhead, who only looked guilty accepting it. Nonetheless, he knew Bakugou enough to know he wasn’t joking around. Kirishima looked like a ghost, and that was putting it lightly. His skin was deathly white and his lips were a disturbing shade of purple. The dark, dried blood that trailed down the side of his face only helped to make him look paler. There was a slight tremble to his shoulders Bakugou couldn’t ignore.

“Sit down and get warm,” Bakugou demanded, forcing himself to stand without the use of his arms. “I’m going to get the fire going again.”

“Without using your quirk.”

“Tch. I will if I have to.”

“You’ll only hurt yourself—”

“I don’t give a damn!” Bakugou shouted through gritted teeth. “My arms aren’t as important as our lives.”

“I get that, Kats, but what about your quirk? If you hurt your arms bad enough that you can’t use your quirk again, your hero dream is over.”

Bakugou frowned. “I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I couldn’t even save the guy I loved.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to respond but clamped it shut again. A soft smile spread over his lips. “I love you too, Katsuki.”

He finally climbed into the sleeping bag and parked himself beside the dying fire. He melted into the fabric, and the teeth chattering slowly silenced. “Wow,” Kirishima breathed, “it’s still warm from you. I didn’t realize how cold I was.”

Bakugou knew Kirishima must have been freezing because without the insulated sleeping bag Bakugou could feel just how much the temperature dropped since the avalanche. “Ei, how long have we been in here?”

“Mm, maybe a couple hours? I’m not sure. The communicator still isn’t working, so I haven’t caught word from anyone yet.”

Bakugou huffed. He really hoped the class hadn’t assumed they were dead. After so long without answers, Bakugou wouldn't be surprised if any of them started to feel dread. He knew his classmates well enough to know they wouldn’t give up though.

With his left arm, which hurt a little less than his right, he scooped up Kirishima’s flashlight off the ground and clicked it on. He headed deeper into the cave in search of more sticks, hearing a faint, “Be careful!” from behind him, which he responded to with a grunt.

Fucking rocks everywhere. That’s all he could find! He was beginning to lose hope when he finally came across a branch long dead and speckled with crisp leaves.

He started kicking the thing back towards the fire, figuring he didn’t want to drag it back and hurt his arms more. The pain had lessened to a dull throbbing, but using his arms now would only bring it back tenfold.

He finally reached the fire and started stomping on the branch to break it up into smaller sticks. Once pleased with his work, he sat with his legs criss-crossed and used his left arm to toss branches into the flames one by one. The fire was already coming back to life.

“Good job, dude!” Kirishima congratulated him from where he was snuggled up in the sleeping bag. He scooted closer to Bakugou until their shoulders touched.

“Hungry?” Bakugou asked, leaning into Kirishima. He could feel the slightest warmth radiating from him.

“Honestly, yeah,” Kirishima answered. “I didn’t eat much today. A couple protein bars and an apple.”

Flatly, Bakugou said, “Eijirou.”

“I know, I know. ‘Take better care of yourself, blah, blah.’ I would’ve eaten better if I’d known we wouldn’t be back in time for dinner. Didn’t expect to wind up trapped in a cave when I ran out the door this morning.”

Bakugou scowled. It was because of him they were in this mess after all. If he’d just used his damn brain, Kirishima wouldn’t be freezing to death or starving or bleeding from the head!

Kirishima nudged him. “Hey. I didn’t mean it like that. This isn’t your fault, Blasty.”

Kirishima Eijirou and Bakugou Katsuki—

Both boys stiffened at the sudden voice echoing in their heads. It was a feminine voice, and strangely the woman was speaking directly into Bakugou’s brain, not his ears. He noted the voice sounded distantly familiar as it continued to coil through his mind.

This is Mandalay of the Wild, Wild Pussycats. If you can hear this message, just sit tight. We’re on our way. It may be awhile before we can reach you, so do your best to survive. Keep warm and stay alert. The mountain is more unstable than anyone realized. A second avalanche is likely, but we’ll try to have you both to safety before it comes to that. We’re doing everything we can. Mandalay, over and out.

Bakugou’s mouth felt suddenly dry. He remembered those damn Pussycat heroes from the training camp where the League managed to snag him. Mandalay was the most normal of the bunch of freaks, Pixie-Jo or whatever the fuck her name was had been a total creep, and he wasn’t around the other two weirdos enough to even remember their names.

“The tracker must be working,” Kirishima breathed, more likely thinking out loud than talking to Bakugou. He slumped against his boyfriend, letting his head rest against Bakugou’s shoulder. “They’re coming for us.”

Bakugou grunted his reply. He reached past Kirishima for the backpack, but a sharp pain shot from his wrist to his elbow. He drew back too fast, only managing to worsen the pain. He bit his lip to hold back a yelp.

“Babe! Hey, you alright?” Kirishima was asking then, whipping his arms out of the sleeping bag to cradle Bakugou as he held his arm tight against his chest. “No more using your arms. If you need something, just ask me next time.”

“‘Kay,” Bakugou spoke through clenched teeth. He would’ve argued if anyone else were here, but it was just Kirishima. He knew not to push it. He didn’t like making Kirishima mad.

The redhead pulled the bag to them and dug out the thermos. After he unscrewed the cap, a plume of steam rose from the mouth of the can. “Wow, still warm.”

“Good,” Bakugou breathed out through a sigh. “It’ll help warm up our cores. Help us stay alive.”

Kirishima nodded against him. He took a long sip from the thermos, then passed it to Bakugou. “Cheers.”

Bakugou chuckled at that, but the sound was strained. He accepted the soup, downing a few gulps himself.

There was a strange rumble then. Bakugou stiffened at the sound of shifting rocks. Kirishima‘s grip on him tightened.

There were a few short moments of near perfect silence, despite the crackling of the fire. Bakugou swallowed, bringing himself to stand up. He had a bad feeling rising in his chest.

“Do you think that’s them? The Pros?” Kirishima asked quietly. “Our classmates?”

Bakugou pursed his lips. “I don’t think so, Ei.”

Then it happened all at once, so fast Bakugou could hardly process what was happening. He would’ve been killed if it wasn’t for Kirishima’s instantaneous reaction.

The rumbling was loud, so loud, and the ground was shaking and the ceiling was practically coming down. Bakugou stumbled and tripped over the backpack, throwing his hands out to protect himself.

He screamed at the pure agony that shot through his arms, the sound ripping through his throat. All he could think about was pain, pain, pain.

Kirishima dove on top of him, his body hardened from head to toe. He braced himself on his hands and knees, taking each blow from the ceiling as it crumbled.

The light of the fire disappeared, and the boys were consumed in darkness. The cave went silent and still, as well as Bakugou’s mind.

++++++++++++++

Read part 3 here

IM SORRY... for how long it took me to post this. Not for tormenting our two best boys of course 👀

Yeah, I had a lot of problems with the program I was using to write this (kept telling me there was a merge error ?? And deleting random bits of my work ?????) so I’ve switched over to Google Docs and so far that’s working well for me. It’ll take some getting used to, but worth the change so long as it doesn’t randomly delete my writing 😤 (yes I’m a little salty about it)

ANYWAY ! Thanks for the read, and I’ll have the final part posted soon! I started another fic that I think y’all might like,,,,, maybe,,,, hopefully ?? Yep yep KiriBaku of course.

9/14/2020

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boyfriends #whump #fluff #kiribaku #bakushima #fanfic #trapped #avalanche #broken bones #concussions #established relationship

[spookysanta]

online. (g.d.)

Summary: everyone warned him about talking to this girl online. but he can’t help but want to fall for her... now he has to meet her. what happens when they finally get together in person?

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

WARNINGS: sexy thoughts but nothing too bad

Word ct.: 4116 words

this is the first part of my fic! i was gonna post the entire thing but it’s waaaaaaaay too long. so, here’s “part one”.

UNEDITED

(grayson’s messages are in bold, (y/n)’s are in italics)

***

So, let’s talk for a moment.

Shoot.

Would you maybe want to…meet?

Meet…in person?

Yeah. I mean if that’s too big of a step maybe we could facetime or something.

She was frozen. Sure, they’d been talking for a while but this wasn’t like they were dating. And no, she wasn’t a catfish; everything she told him about her was completely true, so that wasn’t her concern. But she was stressed beyond belief because this guy claimed to be Grayson Dolan, and he was a pretty big deal. And if she’s honest, she’s starting to like him in that way.

What if he sees her in person and he doesn’t like her in that way like she does?

Then she’ll feel pretty stupid.

Hello?

Hey. Sorry. I think us facetiming would be a good idea. Baby steps, wouldn’t you agree?

Grayson wanted to scream with joy. This girl…she’s basically him, but female. She’s got the humor, the kindness, the empathy.. everything he’s looking for. And yes, he completely will agree with anyone and everyone who found out he was starting to fall for a girl he met online—he completely understands that he might be clinically insane.

He doesn’t think he’s falling in love with her, but if he ever did, he surely wouldn’t fight it.

Definitely. Baby steps. Maybe we could talk tonight? If you’re not busy. He typed back.

No, I shouldn’t be busy… what time?

Maybe around 8?

Your time or mine?

Oh right, she lives in New York.

Mine.

She doesn’t know what to do. Of course, she’d love to see his beautiful face—she’s started following him on Instagram since they’d begun chatting, and she’s convinced she’s seen an angel. But what if it’s not him? Or what if he sees her and says, “mm, no thanks”?

She gets an idea. When he calls, she won’t answer. She’ll say she wasn’t feeling well, or that she went to bed early.

But then he’ll reschedule.

Ugh, she really wanted to just get it over with already. Is he who he says he is? Because no-one that attractive is this willing to talk to a girl like her, so she thinks.

Actually? She’s gonna do it. She’s going to answer his call, and if it’s a random guy named Raymond that looks nothing like him, then she’ll cuss him out (as she does so well) and then she won’t feel as bad for letting three months of chatting with this guy feel like a waste. But if it is him, then maybe she’ll have made a friend that she can actually trust.

Okay. She typed simply after battling with her brain cells for a couple minutes.

Everything okay?

He must’ve noticed that she wasn’t exactly responding eagerly.

I’m just worried.

Worried?

Yeah.

Why?

She typed hesitantly: Because what if you see me and I’m not what you imagined me to be?

He replied quickly without missing a beat: Then hopefully we can still be friends. I don’t think that’s something you should worry about, though.

What do you mean?

What you look like doesn’t determine your place in my life. If you were honest with me about you, then we can still chat as much as you want. I still like talking to you a lot.

Oh.

So all that matters is that we accept each other for who we are. And if we can do that, then we’ll be fine.

He was right. There was no need for her to stress, because there’s nothing to stress over.

You’re right, she told him in a feat of confidence, you know what, maybe we should facetime now? Just get it out of the way.

She didn’t think he would say yes.

And when he saw her message, his heart fell to his ass. But he really wanted to see her. Because in his mind, she had to have been beautiful, to match her beautiful personality.

Okay. What’s your imessage?

Should she tell him?

If she never marked the message as read, he wouldn’t know. And then she wouldn’t have to worry about looking stupid in front of him.

But that’s not fair to him. He seems like a genuinely nice guy and the least she should do is honor her word and talk to him. Hell, maybe he’ll be even more perfect than what she was hoping for.

(y/n)[email protected]

Cute username.

She rolled her eyes. At least her username wasn’t anything stupid. Pancakes are a universal delicacy in her mind, so they should be on the same page.

Hey, don’t judge, I made it when I was 10 and I was going through a pancake phase.

Waffles are better, but I won’t argue it this time. Give me a second and I’ll give you a buzz.

Is he serious? She’ll brush it off because he decided to.

Oh god she realized that it’s happening. She should’ve just minded her business. She should not have suggested that they talk now. Because if they talked later in the day, she could make up reasons to ignore his call, but she can’t do that now. Is she going to burp or fart with him listening? What if he sees how nervous she is? What if he—

[email protected] wants to FaceTime you.

Okay, she can do this.

She can do this.

She can’t do this.

She probably shouldn’t do this.

But she definitely shouldn’t keep him waiting.

She swiped the button to “answer” before her brain could tell her not to.

Connecting…

His face appeared on the screen with a bright white smile. “There you are!” He exclaimed.

God, his voice. She knew it was deep because, judging from his pictures, he’s a pretty big guy.

“Hi.” She squeaked, her mind still darting to different ways she could hang up and go to bed to wallow in her own self-pity. She mustered up a thin-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really.” He shrugged, fiddling with things on his desk. “So…what’s up with you?”

The last thing she wanted was for the conversation to get awkward. Because once it gets awkward, then she’ll get uncomfortable. And then she’ll make up a reason to hang up…not like she hasn’t been doing that already. “I’m avoiding my work by talking to a guy that lives across the country.”

He hummed. “Is he cool?” He asked with a brow raised.

“Hardly.”

He belted out a laugh and she wanted to shriek.

He was so beautiful.

“So you’re not talking about me.”

“Oh, I’m certainly talking about you.”

“You couldn’t be. I’m cool.”

“Cool like a burning furnace.”

“So you’re saying…I’m hot?” He had to ask, she was practically begging for him to ask.

Duh. Idiot.

“Mm. To some.”

He couldn’t help but laugh again. His laugh was almost soothing, as noisy as it was. At this, her shoulders relaxed in her seat. “Good one.” He replied.

“You’re cute, I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And may I say…you’re absolutely stunning.”

Her face got hot. She didn’t know what else to say, so she said, “Oh my god, shut up.”

“What?”

“Don’t call me “pretty”.”

“I didn’t call you “pretty”, I said you were “stunning”. “Pretty” is what you call your sister on her prom night. But you’re way more gorgeous than that.” He almost sounded stern in the tone of his voice. “I’m sure you’re even more breathtaking in person.”

“You really know how to make a black girl blush, don’t you?”

“I’m just telling the truth.” She saw him shrug. “And now that I’ve seen you, I won’t be able to get you out of my mind.”

“You’re too smooth for your own good, you know that?”

“Probably. But I know you find it attractive.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because if you didn’t like what you were hearing—or, rather, who you’re hearing it from—you would’ve blocked me a long time ago.”

“I still have the opportunity to, trust me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But now that you know I’m not some random guy—“

“You still are, technically.”

“—you should come to L.A.”

“Huh?” If she’d been sipping water, surely she would’ve spat it out by now.

“Yeah. Come hang for, like, a week. Then we could get to know each other better, no screens separating us whatsoever.”

“Um—“

“Okay, maybe not a whole seven days.” He reasoned. “Maybe, like, 5?”

“Here’s the thing.” She stopped him mid-ramble. “I have no money.”

“Oh, that’s okay, honey. I’ll pay for you.”

Disregarding the fact that he called her “honey”, her jaw dropped in shock. “No, no, no, no. That’s too much money.”

“It’s not that much.”

And that’s how she quickly realized they were in two different financial brackets.

“It’s expensive, Grayson. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

His name just rolled perfectly off her tongue. And if he wasn’t paying attention, he’d be thinking about all the ways he’d like to hear her say his name, both appropriate and not.

“I want to. I’m paying for you and that’s that.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged again. “But I want to see you. All you’ll have to do is say when you want to come out, and I’ll hook you up.”

She thinks she loves him.

“Thank you, Grayson. You’re the best.”

“I know.”

***

He broke her. She quickly decided that she needed a break from school. And as she told him tearily—though not in tears because she doesn’t cry unless she absolutely can’t help it—she was “so stressed she didn’t know what to do with herself”. So she told him that she wanted to come the following weekend.

And of course, he said okay.

So he sent her all of the necessary information, as did she, and then before she could realize, she was boarding a plane.

She sent him a text:

hey, just boarded. see you in 4 hours! :)

He replied quickly.

Okay great. I’ll see you soon! I’m so excited. I’ll be waiting for you at your gate with a surprise for you. :)

A surprise?

What’d he get her?

She hopes she can eat it, because she’s starving.

Eventually, the plane got to its destination and she was shaking from nervousness. So badly someone had to help her get her bag from the overhead compartment.

She courteously sent him a text with shaky hands:

hey. just landed. be there in 5!! xoxo

Why was she feeling like this?

She walked slowly from the plane and into the airport. Her logic was the slower she walked, the less likely he was to wait for her.

But then she would’ve wasted his money.

Ugh, damn her conscience.

She decided to walk at a normal pace (much to the pleasure of those stuck walking behind her), and entered the airport, sucking in a breath as she walked to Baggage Claim.

Her phone buzzed.

1 unread message from gray ☀️

Okay!! I’m pretty sure you’ll see me, your surprise is pretty big lmao

Huh?

Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes scanned the vast area of the room when they landed on a particularly big man holding a particularly big sign that read in all caps:

WELCOME TO LOS ANGELES Y/N

She couldn’t help but laugh at him as she made her way in his direction. He hadn’t seen her yet, and he set the sign down to tie his shoe. He promised her he’d wear real shoes and not his Gucci slides, no matter how comfortable they were, because she didn’t want to see his “hairy toes” as he described them. “Y’know,” she spoke when she was within earshot of him. “I think the point of a sign is to consistently hold it, but that’s just me.”

He stood quickly, pulling her into his arms with a laugh. “Hey, you.” He mumbled in her ear as they embraced.

His mind was swimming, and rightly so. This girl was finally in front of him. They’ve been chatting since Halloween and all he’d wanted since then was to hold her in his arms.

And damn, was it worth it, indeed.

“Hey.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. She sighed in their hug, her mind wrapped up in how good he smelled. She never wanted the scent to leave her nose. “You smell good.”

He chuckled, “You, too.” He couldn’t help but kiss her forehead, because she was here, and she was so gorgeous, and she was just…her.

She was first to pull away from their hug. She got a good look at him: his hazel eyes, his hair that was steadily growing down and not out, his cute little button nose that she was certainly going to poke before she goes back home, to the scar on his chin that she felt the urge to kiss. “You’re so pretty in person.” She muttered, almost so that she couldn’t be heard.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

She punched his arm. “Okay, you can’t do that now that I’m here.”

“Do what?”

“You can’t be all cute and stuff.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“No. Like you can’t call me pretty, or gorgeous, or stunning, or—“

“How about perfect?”

“Especially that.”

“You are, though.”

“Shut up!” She punched his arm again.

“Look, missy, you’re not going to keep hitting me.” He pointed a thick index finger at her. “I’ll get you back.”

“Mhm. Sure. Anyway, can we eat? I’m starving.”

“Fine.” He grabbed the sign and her suitcase and walked alongside her to his car. “What do you want?”

“Pasta.”

“(Y/N), it’s eleven o’clock.”

“So? It’s basically lunchtime. To Olive Garden!”

He wasn’t going to give her everything she wanted while she was here, that was his vow to himself. Because if he did, she’d be over the moon, and he’d be in debt.

But he didn’t mind because he was completely certain that he would give her the Milky Way if she asked him for it.

“Fine. We can go to Olive Garden.”

He could tell she was drowning in excitement, no matter how much she tried to mask it. “Wait.” she stopped him. “My surprise?”

“Oh, right. Your surprise is me. You’re welcome.”

“No thanks.”

***

He watched her as she hummed a tune, lips pursed and brows furrowed in concentration. She told him that she already knew what she wanted (ravioli in marinara sauce), but she had to scan the menu “just to make sure”. She had this way about her, this gravitational pull that seemed to just keep bringing him closer. And if he wanted to pull away, he wouldn’t even be able to fight it.

This girl had way more power than she lets on.

Her eyes darted across the menu’s print, her glasses sliding slowly down the bridge of her nose. She took a hand and pushed her braided hair behind her shoulder. “Stop staring at me.” He heard her mutter. “I can feel it.”

“You’re just so perfect.”

“You’re shitty at following directions. I said to not call me those names.” She looked at him with a glare.

“I’m not calling you names, I’m describing how beautiful you are. And, at this moment, you look perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

She hid behind her menu in embarrassment. “You’re mushy.”

He snatched her menu away from her, setting it in the booth he was sitting in so she couldn’t reach. “And you’re gonna deal with my mush all week.”

“Trust me, I’m not looking forward to it.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. Now that you’re here…what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were the one with the master plan. After all, it was your idea to lure me here, y’know.”

“I’m aware.”

“Ooh.” She thought out loud, her eyes widening. “Can we go to Disneyland?”

Look at her face! All he wanted to do was kiss her.

But let’s not forget—he’s on a limited budget. Because the last thing he wanted to do was to spend up all his money to take her wherever she pleased. She confessed to him that she doesn’t travel much so yes, he did want to take her exploring, but no, he does not want to be on the corner begging for change by the end of it all.

“Well, I don’t see why not.” He shrugged. How could he say no to her, especially now that she’s here? This was all his fault, after all. Had he not asked her to come, he wouldn’t be considering taking a second mortgage on his house. “What else do you want to do?”

“Well, I’d love to see the Hollywood sign, and maybe we could go to Madame Tussauds, and maybe we could—”

“Clearly you’ve made a list.”

“Yes.” She replied bashfully. “I’m just really excited to be here.”

“Trust me, I am, too.”

***

He also learned from his observations that she gets sleepy in the car. If the radio’s just quiet enough and the seat is comfy, she’ll have her head propped against her arm, and she’ll be out in under a minute.

And lucky for him, they got stuck in traffic, so he got to watch her sleep.

Not creepily, but admiringly. He’s not a weirdo.

She stirred when he had to make an abrupt stop. “What did you do?” she asked groggily.

“I didn’t do anything. We’re just gonna be chillin’ here for a bit.”

“Kay.”

“You get a good nap?”

She wordlessly nodded. She must not be one for conversation when she first wakes up.

“Well, it sure sounded like you did, all that snoring you were doing.”

She pushed his bicep, which she found to be very…big. “Shut up. I don’t snore.”

“So what do you call it?”

“Breathing.”

“Some “breathing” you do when you sleep, then.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, almost causing him to slam on the brakes because he thought she’d gotten hurt somehow. “I forgot to ask you to take me by a hotel when you get the chance.”

“A hotel?”

“Yeah…so that I can have a place to sleep at night…”

“I figured you’d just stay with me.”

“Stay…with you?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Well, I—no, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay there or not, so I looked up some cheap hotels in the area.”

He waved her comment off, looking behind him in the seat before going around the lanes of traffic and speeding down the freeway. “No, no, no. You’re my guest, so you’ll stay at my house, in the guest room. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

Clearly they have a habit of staring at each other, because she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She couldn’t help but watch him as he sat up to change lanes, but then she couldn’t even describe how she felt when her eyes glanced down to his thigh and she saw how his muscles there flexed in relaxed as his foot stepped on and released the gas pedal. And she did not dare look anywhere else, no matter how tempted she was.

This was not that kind of trip.

She did say she wanted to get to know him better, and she did, but she didn’t just want to have sex with him. She figured he wasn’t that kind of guy anyway, as kind and caring as he was. She wanted to see where things would go, and clearly she wouldn’t be able to if all she thought about was what he could (or couldn’t) do to her.

“Thank you, Grayson.”

“For what?”

“For bringing me here, and paying for everything, and letting me stay with you and Ethan, and—wait, does Ethan know about me?”

“Two things: one, stop thanking me, okay? I mean it. I’m doing this because I want you here and I like having you around, so I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. So no more thanking me, alright?”

“Yeah.” She felt like she was being scolded like a child, but couldn’t deny the butterflies that were currently having a rave in her tummy.

“Good. And two, yes. Ethan knows about you, but he doesn’t know you’re coming.”

“So…do you plan to tell him?”

“Yeah. I will.”

She didn’t say anything after that. How could she? Now she would be a puddle of nerves. And she was already nervous because she was here with him, and now she has to meet the most important person in his life? The least he could’ve done was say something.

He could see the worry beginning to etch itself onto her face. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. He’s harmless.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me?”

“He will.”

“But what if?”

“I’m telling you, he will. He’ll take one look at you and he’ll see what I see—perfection.”

***

He opened the gate to go up the driveway, and after creeping his way up the hill, he parked his Porsche under an awning attached to the house. The two of them got out of the car, and she went to grab her things from the backseat, but he stopped her. “I got it.” He said simply.

“No, it’s no problem, I can get my luggage.”

“No.” he gently took her carry-on bag from her grasp and slung it over his shoulder, yanking her suitcase out of the backseat. “I got it. You go ahead.” He handed her his house keys.

She walked ahead of him cautiously, because she saw another truck in the driveway. So that could mean that Ethan’s here. And that might mean that she’d have to meet him.

Oh god.

She stood timidly on the porch as he lugged her things toward the door. She attempted to take the carry-on bag from off his shoulder. “At least let me take my carry-on.”

He smacked her hand away. “Stop it.” He took the keys from her and unlocked the door. He nodded his head in the direction of the house. “C’mon.” This time, he led her. She followed him inside in the direction of a room just off to the side of the living room. “So this is your room, feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Is Ethan here?” she asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed as she watched him set her things down.

“Yeah. His truck’s outside. He’s somewhere around here.” He sat next to her on the bed and took her hand, kissing the back of her palm. “But like I said, everything’s going to be fine.”

“Yo, Gray!” they heard a voice yell from down the hall.

“Now, listen,” he said to her. “just be yourself. There’s no reason to worry, okay? He’s harmless and no matter what, you’ll still be my favorite.”

That was their little inside joke. When she found out that she’d been talking to the Grayson Dolan, she slipped up and told him that he was her favorite of the two boys after only mildly stalking their YouTube channel. So every time they speak they tell each other that they’re their favorites. Cheesy, of course, but she found it to be their “thing”, so she thought it was cute.

She chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. You’re my favorite, too, I guess.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. And to be perfectly clear, she wanted to die. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, and she just wanted to snuggle him forever. “I know I’m your favorite. You can’t deny it, no matter how hard you try.”

She saw who she assumed to be Ethan stroll past the room. But then he backtracked and said, “Hey, Gray…who’s your friend?”

“This is (Y/N). You know, the girl I was chatting with on Instagram?”

“Oh, okay.” He entered the room. “Hi.”

Grayson nudged her.

“Hi.” She replied quietly. “Nice to meet you.”

He removed his arm from around her. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of days, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s totally fine.” He shrugged. “I’m going to the gym. You need me to get anything while I’m out?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“Cool.” He turned to leave but before he did, he said, “Bye, (Y/N)! It was nice meeting you!”

Then, they heard the jingle of his keys, and then the gentle slam! of the front door. “See?” he mumbled to her, kissing her temple. “You did all that freaking out for nothing.”

“I was not freaking out.” She retorted but let out a huge breath of air anyway.

“You were. And I know that you were, because I could feel your heart pounding without me touching you.”

“Shut up.”

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson bailey dolan #grayson dolan fic #online fic #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan x black girl #grayson dolan x poc #dolan twins #dolan #dolan tuesday

[starlocked01]

Chances

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: They all truly met each other by chance.

Day 25 Demus, LAMP/CALM, background Remile-  You have an object that represents your soulmate glows when in you both hold your objects in proximity to each other

No. Nope. This was way too cutesy. Virgil stared at the object that had appeared by his elbow while he was eating breakfast and loudly declared he wanted a new soulmate who wasn't a baby.

His older brother chuckled, "sorry, V. That's not how soulmates work. That's a cute little teddy bear I'm sure they're very nice."

Virgil pouted at the bear, "Jan, they may be nice but I'm not!"

"True! You are a pain in the neck. Maybe they'll teach you some manners-" as Janus was talking two more objects appeared, a small telescope and a miniature rose in a glass, like the one in Beauty and the Beast. Janus looked surprised, "wow! The universe heard you, V. What are you gonna do now?"

Virgil stared at the objects, overwhelmed at the prospect of disappointing three different soulmates. His face paled and he lost his appetite, "I think I'm gonna die." --- Patton was okay with the rose and telescope, but he hated the black widow spider soul object with the entirety of his being. It was icky and looked like it would come alive and bite him in the night. His foster father watched with an amused smile as he pushed it across the breakfast table.

"Girl, it's not gonna bite you," Remy took a sip of his morning coffee.

"Dad?" Patton's foster brother called from their shared room where he'd been finishing homework, "is it normal to get three soulmates?"

Patton looked up as Logan walked into the dining room with an armful of objects, "hey, Lo. You too?"

Logan dumped his items on the table and Patton instantly recognized the spider and rose. A moment later, Logan made the same connection, grabbing Patton's spider to compare it with his own.

"Woah, both of you?  I couldn't handle more than Emile, no ma'am. Who do you think all those toys represent?" Remy chuckled at the two.

Logan looked up at Patton, "these are exactly the same. Every detail, from the positions of the legs to the purple eyes. I think we share a soulmate, Pat."

"I think we share two, the roses look the same too. But what about the ones that are different?" Patton held up the telescope and looked through it at Logan. Logan picked up his teddy bear and began to examine it as well. After a moment the items both started to softly glow. Patton pulled the telescope away from his eye and stared at it. Logan looked up from the glowing bear and saw Patton's telescope.

"Wait, but these things only glow when soulmates hold them in proximity to each other at the same time. There can only be one logical conclusion," Logan's serious countenance melted into soft shock.

"No way! I'm calling Pops at work right now. He's gonna flip!" Remy grinned and pulled out his phone, standing to walk to the other room.

"So, we're soulmates?" Patton smiled at Logan, the telescope still glowing softly in his hand.

"Yeah, babe. They're soulmates. Yes, with each other! No I- can we legally adopt soulmates? Shit, I think the kids heard that-" Remy walked through the kitchen again, talking animatedly on his cell.

"Apparently so," Logan marveled at their glowing toys before setting his bear down. The glow faded quickly from the toys but took up residence in their hearts, soft and warm. --- Roman groaned as the alarm blared at him for the third time that morning. He felt something heavy on his face and slowly blinked open his eyes to find eight purple ones staring back at him. He shrieked and swatted at his face, accidentally throwing himself off the bed as Remus burst into the room.

"It is nearly time for school- what is the matter with you, squirt?"  He demanded before noticing the new toys on the bed, "oh did ya get your soulmate’s stuff?"

Roman struggled to untangle himself from the sheets, "no, I was attacked by them! Look at this thing!" he held up the spider for Remus to look at.

"Hey, it's a creepy thing like my snake!" Remus grinned, taking it to look closer, "neat!"

Roman looked on the bed and saw the telescope and the teddy bear, "oh my gosh! Three soulmates? That's like so many!"

"Yeah! What'd you do to get so many?" Remus ruffled his brother's hair.

"I have no idea, however, I shall begin my quest to find them!" Roman stood with his hands on his hips and chest puffed out, a dashing smile from ear to ear.

"Alright, Romeo, but first it's time for school, Remus grinned and pushed him to the closet of clothing, "let's go." --- "Patton you'll never find him if you don't bring it with you," Logan stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "it's just a toy."

"But I don't like it. It creeps me out," Patton huffed.

"Fine, but I'm not telling you who when I find them."

"Boys, please. You have the rest of your lives to find the other two. Don't spend it all bickering," Remy rubbed his temples, eager to drop them off at school and get some quiet. --- "Jan, you haven't found your soulmate, right?" Virgil asked from the passenger's seat.

"No, and thank you for reminding me," Janus answered, patting the little squid that lived on his car dashboard.

"What happens when you don't find them?" Virgil stared out the side window and Janus sighed.

"You keep living your life. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find your soulmates when it's time to find them.

"I hope you find yours soon. I know you don't like raising me on your own," the comment cut like a knife through Janus’ heart. Brutally accurate like most things that came out of Virgil’s mouth.

"But we make it work, right?" Janus smiled hopefully over at Virgil.

"Yeah, I guess we do." --- A few years later, Janus finally managed to hit it off with someone at the bar while Virgil worked on homework, home alone. Remus was incredibly forward and flirty and did everything he could to make Janus blush. The attention was enjoyable and before he knew it they were kissing this the parking lot, his back to his car.

"Mm, you wanna take me home?" Remus murmured.

"No, I've got a kid brother and I doubt you're quiet," Janus chuckled.

"Damn, you too? Well, there goes that plan," Remus sighed and tugged at the snake around his wrist.

"That's a cool bracelet. I really like it," Janus smiled.

Remus laughed, "it's actually my soulmate toy. I made it into a bracelet so I could find him eventually."

"Oh, well I guess that makes a lot of sense. My squid stays in my car," Janus grinned, happy that his latest fling wasn't trying to be a cheat for once.

"Can I see??" Remus' eyes lit up even in the dark.

"I guess if you must," Janus unlocked the car and ushered Remus inside. Remus was already playing with the toy by the time he walked around to the driver's side.

"He's adorable! What'd you name him?" Janus couldn't help but laugh.

"I didn't name him. When I was a kid I decided to name him for my soulmate but it's been so long I just... decided not to name him at all."

"Aww, you should name him now!" Remus tossed Janus the squid. He stared at it thoughtfully and his puzzled frown turned into an amazed grin as the squid started glowing. He looked over to Remus who was staring at the circle of light around his wrist.

"Still want to come home with me?" Janus asked.

"Absolutely!" --- Remus had insisted that Roman meet Janus’ brother but wouldn't explain why. Roman tried to get out of what was sure to be an awkward situation but Remus wouldn't take no for an answer and that was when he was most dangerous.

Virgil and Roman were shuffled off to Virgil’s bedroom where they sat in sullen silence while their soulmate brothers made out in the living room.

"This blows," Roman moaned.

"Agreed," Virgil sighed and pulled his teddy bear off his shelf, pretending to make it die horrible deaths.

"Oh, that's cute. Kinda looks like mine," Roman smiled.

"Wait really?" Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I've got a teddy, a telescope, and a spider," Roman counted off the objects on his fingers as he listed them off, "I know, three is kinda weird but it doesn't raise your chances of meeting them at all."

Virgil looked at Roman in confusion, "I've got a teddy, a telescope, and a rose. I understand having three, but ours sound really similar."

"Wait," Roman grabbed his backpack and pulled out the spider. Virgil nodded and grabbed the rose and both started to softly glow, "no way! Oh, Remus is gonna be pissed! It took him forever to find Janus."

Remus was delighted that his hunch had been correct. He'd suspected the two were soulmates after recognizing two of Virgil’s toys as identical to Roman’s.

Virgil and Roman swapped their items and Roman was more than happy to come over whenever Remus wanted to spend time with Janus. They started getting to know each other and theorizing about their other two soulmates. --- Roman set his rose up on his desk before the geometry test. He wasn't looking forward to the test but his reminder of Virgil often helped calm him down when he was stressed.

"Is that representative of your soulmate?" Roman turned to face the new kid in class who seemed very interested in the rose.

"No, he actually gave it to me after we matched," Roman smiled in an effort to be welcoming. The other kid's glasses and tie certainly were setting him up to get picked on as soon as the teachers looked away.

"Fascinating… I'm Logan," he held out his hand which Roman shook with a grin.

"Nice to meet you, Logan."

"I think I have the same rose. Do you have a telescope?" Roman froze at the question, halfway turned back around.

"How did you know?"

"Because my first soulmate has a telescope as well," Logan pulled an identical rose out of his backpack. Roman quickly fumbled around to find his telescope as the bell to start class rang. Both objects began to glow as the teacher was giving test instructions. The two boys locked eyes and nodded, putting their matched objects away quickly.

After class Logan waited for Roman in the hall.

"Okay here's the plan, Specs. I'll get Virgil and you get…"

"Patton."

"Patton and we'll meet after school by the cafeteria. Got it?"

"Should be simple."

"See ya then, soulmate!" Roman ran off towards his next class, leaving Logan alone in the hall.

After school Roman practically dragged Virgil to the cafeteria, refusing to explain why. When Logan and Patton rounded the corner, Roman practically lept into Logan’s arms. He quickly pushed him away.

"Patton, I believe these are our other two soulmates," Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his tie as he explained.

"Oh neat!" Patton exclaimed, "I'm beary happy to meet you!"

"Oh christ, you're the teddy bear?" Virgil groaned.

"And I suppose you're the spider?" Logan looked over Virgil’s ensemble and knew the aesthetic fit.

"Um, Lo? I kinda lost the spider…" Patton admitted sheepishly.

"Fair enough, I left the bear at home," Virgil shrugged.

"How could you?" Roman looked upset.

"It's like carrying around a toy. I didn't want to. I'm sorry Patton, it's nothing against you," Virgil smiled apologetically.

"Well, I brought the bear," Roman scoffed, pulling it out of his bag.

"Virgil, do you have your telescope?" Logan asked while Patton pulled out his rose and they all watched as the two glowed.

"Yeah yeah, one second," Virgil smiled and pulled it out, watching as the spider in Logan’s hand glowed as well.

"Where do we go from here?" Roman wondered aloud.

"Anywhere we want to. We can start with friends?" Patton smiled at the others with their faces lit by the toys in their hands.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#Soulmate September 2020 #tsshipmonth2020 #demus #lamp/calm #platonic lamp #remile #swearing #like one questionable adult innuendo moment #kid sides

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Three - Rocking with the Waves

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Aria just can’t get enough of JJ and his affection, making him absolutely irresistible and a familiar face arrives in the Outer Banks, along with suspicion from her father.

Warnings: Smut, some cursing, hopefully no typos and unsafe driving?

A/N: Words can’t even describe the joy and happiness I am experiencing from the amount of people who have read my writing. Thank you so much guys! I sincerely appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

Birds sing their little toons outside, the warm morning air kisses my skin and the sun beams down on my face through the windows. These are typical mornings I wake up to. Except in my own bed. By myself. Instead I wake up to the sound of a beating heart and my head laying on a naked chest that continues to rise and fall. I glance up to see JJ still asleep, his handsome face so calm without a worry in the world. I couldn’t help but lay a kiss on his warm cheek causing him to stir. For a while I just lay there drawing shapes on his chest. This causes his eyes to flutter open. He smiles down on me.

“Rise and shine lover boy.” I crawl on top of his naked boy under the sheets. “Oh, something’s rising alright.” He smirks. I lightly smack his shoulder. I have to admit though, his raspy morning voice is quite the turn on. “It’s not even noon Jay.”

“I take it that’s a no, on morning sex? It would be a real good way to start off the day.” His hands start to play with my bed hair. I simply giggle at him.

“How do you feel?” He asked genuinely concerned. “Different. Like a good different. It hurt a little at first, then it began to feel really good.” I never knew just how close you can become with someone. “Want me to me make you feel really good again?” His question laced with lust. “God, yes please.” “Good girl. Now lay back and enjoy the show.” He smirks before laying a kiss on my lips and kissing a trail down my body, taking his time. The anticipation begins to start a pool of wetness to form down below, especially when he starts kissing and nipping at the peach soft skin of my inner thighs, littering them with more love bites. When he finally reaches the region that requires the most attention, he glances up at me, holding eye contact and places my legs over his shoulders. My feet rest on his slender soft back.

“So wet for me. We’re you dreaming of me perhaps? Did I treat you so good last night?” His breath fans my pussy and he plants a kiss there, causing me to squirm. “Tell me babygirl, what do you want me to do? I need words.” His teasing look becoming too much. “Please, I want you to taste me. Make me feel good. Please baby.” I practically beg. He licks a stripe up my folds making me gasp, never taking his eyes off my pleasure filled face. My petite finger comb through his hair gripping hard, while his lengthy ones enter my core curling in. His lips attach to my sensitive clit, making me moan. He hums out of satisfaction as I continue to tug on his luxurious hair. His free hand comes up to grope my left breast. His fingers began to pick up speed as they thrust in and out of me.

“JJ, I’m so close.” I breathe out, my feet start to dig into his back and hips begin to buck. He grabs a hold of my hips stabilizing me. The familiar euphoric sensation washes over me as I reach my orgasm, making my toes curl and my back arch off the bed. My juices coat his fingers. He brings the glistening digits up to his lips, licking them clean along with my dripping hot core. I can taste myself on his intoxicating lips when kisses me so passionately. He’s so addictive like nicotine. I simply can’t get enough of him.

“You taste so good babygirl. Did you know that?” I giggle at the closeness and his hot breath fanning my neck before attacking it with soft kisses as I hold him close to me. We lay there enjoying each other’s presence in the morning sunlight. Unfortunately, our moment is interrupted by the ringing of my phone. On the screen I see Charis’s number.

“Hello?” I answer. “Hey where are you? Your parents called to ask if you were with me. Don’t worry I covered for you, said you crashed at my place, but they want you back home like asap. Just tell me where you are.” Shit. I didn’t even think about that. “Shit, I’m at John B’s chateau.” “What are you doing there?” She asked confused. “I’ll explain everything when you get here. See you soon.” I hang up and sigh. JJ looks up at me.

“I’m sorry, but my parents want me home.” He just smiles at me. “No worries babe.” He grabs my phone and punches in my number. “When will I see you again?” I asked hopeful. “Soon. I’ll take you out somewhere fun. Ever been surfing?” I shake my head yes. “A girl after my own heart, this should be fun, after all I’m the best surfer in the OBX.” I chuckle at his cocky attitude. “I have a question for you Jay.” “Mm?” I was a little hesitant at first to ask this question. “What does this make us?” I nervously bite my lip. “What do you want this to be?” He asked while playing with my hair. “Something more than just sex. I really like you JJ. I want to be close to you all time. I want to be intimate.” I confess hoping I don’t sound clingy. “I like the sound of that. Let’s give this a shot and see where it leads us.” “Do you think we’re going too fast?” “Nah, plus I like going fast.” He places one last kiss on my lips before we both gather our clothes.

Stepping out onto the porch, I see Charis’s car. I turn back to JJ who didn’t even bother to put on a shirt. “I’ll stay in touch that way we can hang out again.” My fingers play with his. “Sounds good.” He uses his black bandana to tie up my hair in a ponytail, making the butterflies in my stomach erupt. I loved the fact that he willingly let me have one of his belongings. I place a kiss on his cheek. Before I could turn away, he grabs my waist planting one last passionate kiss on my lips. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling us closer. Our noses touch even after pulling away. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon.” I peck his lips. “See you soon beautiful.” He finally lets me go; I turn back to steal one more glance before opening the door. He sends me a wink, making me chuckle and blow a kiss.

I can feel Charis’s burning gaze on me as I situate myself. “Oh. My. Fucking. God. What the fuck just went down?” She doesn’t even take the parking brake off before hammering me for details. “I may have spent the night with JJ.” I can feel the heat radiating from my blushing cheeks. “Wait, did you lose your V card?” She asked astonished. It just hit me that I was no longer a virgin and I just lost my virginity to JJ. Not being able to process words I just smile and nod yes. This sets her off. “Holy fucking sweet baby Jesus shit! You had sex with JJ Maybank! Holy shit! About time you got dirty in the sheets!” She hugs me tight. I’ve been the virgin of the group for a while now. Charis lost hers freshman year, while Sarah lost hers last summer. “Oh my god can we go before my parents lose their shit? My dad is already pissed at me.” I plead. “Right sorry, I’m just still trying to process this. When did this start between you guys?” “It started since we first met.” “So, are you guys just hooking up or are you dating?” “We’re kind of taking things slow.” This makes her laugh. “Bitch please, you skipped slow and went straight to speeding.” “What I mean by slow is that we’re still getting to know each other.” “Oh, I think you guys got to know each other a lot.” She laughs and continues to drive. “I need you to promise though that you won’t tell anyone about us. I really like him and my dad would lose his shit if he knew about us.” I plead. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me splinter bean.”

After showering, changing and covering many hickeys, I come downstairs and walk outside to the balcony to find my family and a familiar face. “Damian?” I asked surprised. “Hello Aria. Nice of you to finally join us.” He lifts up a glass. Damian Prescott. He’s my older brother. We get along a lot more than Jennifer and I do thankfully. He’s not around much though. He lives in Las Vegas. He works business with my dad. Standing next to him is a woman about his age.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming out here.” I give him a welcoming hug. “Thought I surprise you. I’d like to introduce you to my fiancée, Rebecca.” What?! “Fiancée?! You’re getting married?” This all came as a shock to me. He’s kind of womanizer, so for him to be engaged all of the sudden definitely surprised me. “Yes. We just bought a house here in figure eight and are planning on having our wedding here. Rebecca here is an international model and fashion designer.” “That’s impressive. Congratulations. I’m really happy for you guys, and it’s a pleasure to meet you Rebecca.” I hug her. “Likewise, darling.” I am still trying to process the surprising news.

“Where have you been Aria?” My father asked out of the blue. He stares me down with interrogating eyes. I sometimes wonder if he and Ingrid are long lost twins with their helicoptering tendencies. “I spent the night at Charis’s.” I say as calm and convincing as possible. Last thing I want to do is have him find out about who I was actually with. “Nice bandana. Where did you get it?” Asked my nosey Jennifer. “I found it earlier this week on the beach.” For the rest of evening I had to deal with peering eyes, but I didn’t let that bother me, instead I began daydreaming about seeing JJ again.

Next Day…

Today is a perfect day to go surfing. There’s not a cloud in sight, parents or Jennifer. Only me, my surfboard and soon JJ. Not a single soul stops me from leaving the house and jumping into JJ’s muscular arms kissing him long and hard. “Why hello there. I missed you too babe. You ready to go?” I nod my head excitedly. I couldn’t help but gaze at him while he was driving the van. His eyes were so focused on the road, yet he still kept his warm hand on my bare thigh. The wind blows past his hair as he drives. He seems so carefree.

“See something you like?” I blush embarrassed that he caught me staring. “Sorry. You’re just so beautiful.” I have no shame as I continue to admire his attractive features. “Awe, aren’t you sweet? C’mere.” He pulls me into his lap as he comes to halt due to a stoplight, my legs lay across the middle console. “Is this safe?” I ask, but not really caring. “Probably not.” He closes the gap between us to keep me quiet and I had no urge to protest. The annoyed drivers behind us say otherwise as they honk at us. We both laugh as continues to drive.

I then noticed a fully healed scar on the back of his hand. I trace over it hoping that it would just disappear. It saddened me to see a scar had littered his beautiful skin. “What happened?” I asked curious. “Oh, probably just a cut from something I accidentally did.” He lied brushing it off like it was nothing. His eyes said otherwise, but I didn’t want to push it.

We walk down beach surfboards in hand ready to have some fun. The warm water hitting our feet and soon engulfing our bodies. The two of us let out cheers as we successfully ride out some waves. He wasn’t kidding when he told me that he was a very talented surfer. It was heartwarming to see him in his happy place. Neither of us keep track of the time. We didn’t notice the day passing by as the sun was about to set. It was then when we decided it was time to leave the water and dry off. This time I catch him staring. “See something you like?” I tease about to tie up my hair, but he stops me. “Don’t, I like it down.” He says taking the hair tie away. He places a slow and passionate kiss on my lips making me smile and pull him closer. One thing led to another, now we’re laying down on the beach blanket having a heated make out session.

I was thankful that we were both wearing swimwear as I began tugging at his swim trunks. He pulls away surprised. “You sure?” “Positive. I want you to take me right now.” My encouragement only seems to excite him even more as he removes my bottoms and covers the two of us with an extra blanket. He strokes my slit with his tip teasing me. “You want this babygirl? Want me to fuck you out in the open?” His dirty talking turns me on even more, making me desperate. “God yes please. Make me yours.” That’s all he needed before plunging in so deep. His hand clamps over my mouth to contain my loud moans. “As much as I love to hear you moan my name with that pretty voice, we don’t want to get caught.”

His thrusts were a lot different from last time. These were faster, deeper and harder, which only increased the pleasure. His grunts were a little louder too. A bead of sweat began to form on his forehead and a little bit of his damp hair fell over his face as he continued to thrust into me. JJ and the colorful sky were both so gorgeous, a sight I could get used to. He spreads my legs further apart and grabs my hips creating a deeper angle, now hitting the spot that craves the most attention, making me moan loudly, neither of us giving a damn. “You like that babygirl?” He pants through moans.

“JJ!” I scream and my vision goes white as I tighten around him, milking his hard cock, making him throw his head back. He joins me shortly after, his hot cum spewing inside of me, riding out his high. The two of us stay there for a moment catching our breaths. “JJ, that was amazing.” I say dazed. This earns me a breathy chuckle from him “You can say that again. God damn you’re so tight around me babe.” We both laugh together.

We both enjoyed the peaceful silence in the van on the way back home, the two of us feeling spent. I was disappointed when we pulled up to my house. “I had a lot of fun today JJ. That was one hell of a first date.” He looks back at me. “I’m glad you had fun. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.” “Me too. See you later.” I kiss lips before exiting the van and grabbing my surfboard. I blow him a kiss and he returns it with his infamous wink that makes me weak in the knees. I place my surfboard in the closest, and grab a bowl of strawberries to snack on. Before I could go upstairs, I am stopped by my mom.

“Hey sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come through the door.” She greets me with a smile. “Oh, I just got back.” “I never seen you wear that sweatshirt. Is it new or something?” She’s referring to JJ’s Fast Arch gray sweatshirt that he lent to me when he noticed I was cold earlier.

“Oh this? It’s not mine. My friend let me borrow it because I was cold.” This is officially my new favorite shirt. It smells just like him. Weed, mint and the ocean. I still feel engulfed by him as I wear it. “That’s nice of them. What did you guys do today?” Oh, if only she knew. “We went surfing.” I only told her half the truth. “That sounds like fun. Did you use sunblock? Do you need aloe gel? You’ve been drinking plenty of water, right?” I chuckle at her. The only time she asks me a billion questions is when it’s over my health. “Yes, mom I used sunblock and drank lots of water.” I reassure her. “Okay, well take this with you anyways.” She hands me a bottle of water. I laugh. When is she not carrying water? I swear if she were to be charged for anything, it would be possession of too much damn water. “Thank you, mommy. Goodnight.” I kiss her forehead. “Goodnight love.”

I pass by my sister when she got a whiff of my new scent. “God, did you and your so-called friend get stoned while you were at the beach?” Jennifer criticizes. “No, and eavesdropping is really rude. You should get a new hobby.” She rolls her eyes. “So, who did you go to the beach with?” She asked. “Who I hang out with is none of your business. Goodnight.” I slam the door shut with a huff and let the events of earlier replay in my head. I shower and go to bed in JJ’s shirt, letting the aroma bring me peace.

I mindlessly let my fingers travel down to my wet folds and begin playing with myself. I imagine that its JJ’s fingers thrusting and curling inside of me. I imagine the dirty things he would say to me as I chase after my own orgasm. His name leaves my lips in soft whimpers as I finally finish off the night in pure bliss.

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank #lana del rey #obx netflix #the outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic

[ailec-12]

Out of curiosity: 1) Do you hate it when people ask you for an update on a wip? 2)what story do you think is the most loved by its readers out of all the ones you’ve written? 3) what story do you personally love the most?4) which do you think you pay the most attention to? 6) Do you think setting up a schedule for posting is more beneficial (as it’s good to set goals for yourself) or harmful (since it makes you write when you don’t want to)

Such interesting questions. *o* Thanks!

1) Mm, short answer: No, I don't hate it; generally, I don't mind and, sometimes, I like it. In the end, asking for updates means that people are interested in the story, but if the only feedback you get is variations of "more please," it gets old really fast.

In my case, whether I see this as interest or just a demand really depends on my own circumstances at the moment —which are out of the reader's control and knowledge— and the way the request is worded. For instance, if I've been working on the story recently and I get the "When are you going to update" type of message, I'll likely feel excited because oh boy, you got no idea what you have coming. If I'm in the middle of a writer's block, though, it can be a reminder that it's been a long time since I wrote for that story and I have no clue when I'll be able to update it. Of course, this isn't the reader's fault, so I'll remind myself that they're actually showing interest and answer truthfully.

Moreover, if a reader leaves a comment saying something positive about the story in addition to "can't wait to keep reading/hope you update soon," it never feels like they're asking for an update. I only feel their excitement and it really boosts me up. However, if the comment is only "update soon" or "when's the next update," it can indeed come across as demanding. I understand why other writers may get fed up with this kind of comments, but for me it's not really a big deal. I answer and move on.

What I do hate is people telling me they'd assumed I'd abandoned a WIP or even stating I'll abandon it eventually after having said several times I won't. I know people don't need to believe me, but I wonder what else they possibly expect me to answer.

2) Without a doubt, my most popular story is House Potter for Children in Need —the others don't come even close—, which is kinda ironic since I started posting it before it was done precisely because I was convinced only a few people would be interested in it. xD I don't regret it, though. I'm thrilled this fic has touched so many people.

3) I think my best written story is House Potter, just because it's the latest one, so all I've learnt from writing my other stories is (hopefully) reflected in it. It's a really complex and ambitious project and I'm loving the challenge. Yet, it's a tie between it and the Greenie series. Despite all the things that could be improved, the latter lived in my head rent free for over five years. I can see my own evolution as a writer and an English speaker when I read it and posting it was also a very rewarding experience.

4) Do you mean in terms of stats or when writing? In terms of stats, I'm much more likely to notice who leaves kudos or how the hit count goes up in my least popular stories, particularly December 17th and Of Heroes and Love. When writing, House Potter is the most demanding one so far, because there's a lot of things I need to take into account.

5) I think posting schedules are really nice for readers, who get something to look forward to. Regular updates help to build an audience, too. It gives the feeling the story won’t be abandoned and so, readers are less afraid to let themselves be invested.

These are, in my experience, general statements about posting schedules. However, whether they are beneficial to the author or not will depend on the author. For me —both as a writer and a reader—, schedules in fanfiction are something that can change or disappear without any guilt whatsoever. We’re all here to have fun! I don’t like the idea of forcing yourself to write if you don’t feel like it —another matter is when you do want to write but you feel blocked. And, even though setting goals for yourself can help with motivation, I daresay these goals should be more oriented towards the writing process itself rather than getting the chapter done and posting it. I don’t have the ability to control the length of my chapters, so it wouldn’t make much sense for me to say “I’ll write a chapter every two weeks” when one chapter might be 3000 words long and another one, 6000. That’s why I only keep posting schedules when the chapters are actually already written and only need editing, because I can estimate better the time they’ll need to be ready.

Hope this satisfies your curiosity, thanks again for dropping by!

#Fic writing #My fics #Ask Ail #anonymous #*

[mulletcal]

if walls could talk -- ceo!calum chapter 1

description: calum is the son of a very powerful ceo / owner of a PR firm - they had an agreement that calum could live his life as a young adult until his father retired.  calum didn’t expect his father to retire so soon, nor did he expect to meet a woman who would spill out all of her deepest, darkest secrets all because of some turbulence.

warnings: light mention of sexual situations, other than that nothing much.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: this is something i’ve wanted to post for so long.  i attempted a majority of a rewrite at one point, but here we are! please let me know what you guys think? also huge thank you to @softbabiestan​ and @calum-uncrowned​ for reading / suggesting edits along the way 

------

“This just doesn’t feel like the right time to do this.”

Those words had been said to Charlotte more times than she could count, in both her personal and professional life.  This time, it was the former, but that didn’t make the blow to her confidence any smaller.

Charlotte had been sent to New York in hopes that maybe she could convince this firm to sell to them.  The PR firm that she worked for was the top in the country, but they didn’t get there based solely on the fact that they were an amazing company.  Anytime another PR firm seemed like they were about to overtake them for the top spot, Everyday Joy Communications would make them an offer they’d be stupid to turn down.

“Please, Mr. James, if you’d just look at the graph that we’ve done up for you--” Charlotte started, but she was cut off by the man standing up abruptly. 

“Your company has been trying for over a year now to buy us out, and each time we’ve said no. It’s very clear to us that your company’s morals don’t align with ours, I’m sorry you wasted your time in coming here today.” Straightening out his jacket, Mr. James moved around the table to shake Charlotte’s hand once more, clearly eager for her to leave.

She had gathered her things in silence, but as she turned to leave she heard Mr. James clear his throat. “Miss--” he began, inhaling deeply before continuing, “You may want to tie your jacket around yourself. It appears your skirt ripped.”

Nodding her head, she left the room without so much as a ‘thank you’, the embarrassment crashing over her in a wave.

As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

***

The CEO of Everyday Joy Communications has announced his retirement.

One would think that in the occurrence of a life-changing event, you’d at least get a call beforehand.  But that wasn’t the case for Calum, the article reading as a slap in the face to him.  Calum was supposed to be allowed some warning, something that would allow him to get his life in order before he was set to take over, but no.  Here he was, receiving numerous texts, calls, tweets, and e-mails from those he knew asking what the next steps were, and if Calum was finally going to step forward and ‘actually contribute’.

When his father’s company first started gaining success, Calum had chosen to live in New York, rather than stay in Los Angeles.  He enjoyed the bustle of a busy city, but LA was full of people who wanted what was in your pockets instead of what was in your head.  Opinions didn’t matter unless they were linked to some financial gain, and it never sat right with him.

He was pulled from his thoughts by his phone ringing, his father’s contact info flashing across the screen. “What do you want, Dad?” The words were dripping with false affection, his father’s sigh evident on the other line.

“I wanted to tell you, Calum, I--”

“You seemed to be able to figure out how to pick up the phone now, how come you couldn’t before?”

The silence on the other end was deafening before his father offered another sigh, “You still have a week to catch up on things before you fully take over.  And you know that I’m just a phone call away.”

“Yeah, and what time would be best to call you? In between tee-times, or before you go in for your deep tissue massage.” Calum had come to the conclusion to hang up before his father had a chance to answer.  Buying a plane ticket and facing this head on would be better than working himself up in his loft.

As if sensing his distress, his dog Duke came padding into the kitchen, looking at him quizzically.  It wasn’t often Calum had an angry tone to his voice, and it confused the small dog.  Scooping him up into his arms, he sighed as he pressed a kiss to the side of the dog’s head. “How do you feel about moving to LA buddy?”

---

“Hello?”

“Ash, guess whose ugly mug you’re gonna see a lot more?” The overly excited tone in Calum’s voice was very much not him, and it gave away everything Ashton needed to know in that moment.

“Mm… Gonna take a shot in the dark here and say you?” Ashton spoke with a soft chuckle. Calum could hear the click of his phone, and he was assuming he was either turning his volume up or down - if he had to guess it would be down, because he knew that Calum was frustrated.

“M’sorry there’s no prizes involved, but you’re absolutely right!  I don’t know if you’ve read, but my father is headed into an early retirement, which means-”

Before he could continue, Ashton finished his sentence for him, “- You gotta break out the big boy pants, I know.  Is he expecting you to take over right away?”

Calum let out a sharp exhale from his nose, fingers dragging softly through Duke’s fur as he sat cross-legged on his couch, “I have a week to settle in before I take over fully.  I don’t understand how he thinks a week is enough time to shadow him in the office before I just…  Take over.”

“You did work there in the summers when we were in high school though, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I don’t feel as though it’s quite the same.  Plus, that was eight years ago now. The things have changed at the office - expanded departments, new protocols.” Calum sighed, leaning his head to rest against his couch.  “It’s just a lot.”

“I know, but hopefully your staff will cut you some slack, plus you have the best coffee in the world less than a block away.” Ashton was right, that was a very small benefit - he was sure whenever was something was overwhelming he could sneak away to his friends cafe for a coffee.

The rest of the conversation was uneventful, Ashton trying to take his mind off of his impending flight later that evening.  The conversation went on for longer than Calum had expected though, because his alarm went off to remind him to drop Duke off at the Doggy Daycare he would be staying at as he moved his life away.

“Shit dude, I gotta head out to go take Duke to his lil’ doggy hotel,” Calum joked, ignoring the tugging at his heart strings at the fact that he would have to leave his baby behind for now.

“Okay mate, I’ll see you soon, yeah? Bring Duke by as soon as he gets in from his week away from his dad.” Ashton teased, them finishing saying their goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

***

‘Now boarding flight 32C to Los Angeles, California…’

“Finally,” Charlotte murmured to herself, gathering her carry on and making her way towards her gate.

There had been a three hour delay, and at that point Charlotte was ready to be home, curled up in bed watching shitty rom-coms.

As she stepped onto the flight, the stewardess looked her up and down with a sympathetic smile. “Long day?” She asked, placing her hand on Charlottes’ forearm.  Any other time, the gesture would annoy Charlotte, but she wasn’t one to take out her bad day on others.

“That obvious, huh?” Charlotte deadpanned, shoulders sagging ever so slightly.

“How about an upgrade to first class? No one checked in for that seat, and it’ll be our secret.” 

If angels existed, this woman - Angie - would be one of them.  With a small smile, and a squeeze of the hand on her forearm, Charlotte headed to the seat she had motioned to.

When she got to the seat, she saw a man on the outside of the aisle with his hat pulled low over his eyes. His strong jaw seemed tense, only relaxing as soon as Charlotte let out a soft ‘excuse me’.

Then, strong jaw man was talking, and Charlotte thought it had been to her.  “Do you wanna get drinks, then?” The man had asked.

“Oh, yeah I’ll--”

That was the first time she saw the man’s eyes, deep brown and looking up at her in confusion before motioning to his Bluetooth ear piece.  

What idiot still used those? 

Charlotte’s head ducked in embarrassment until he eventually hung up.  “I’m sorry about that, I thought you were talking to me…” Her words were meek, almost inaudible as she angled her body towards him.

“S’fine, you didn’t see the device.” The more he had spoken, the more Charlotte wanted to hear.  His voice was enticing, the type you knew could command a room if the occasion called for it. She kept thinking of ways to potentially get the man to speak to her again, but she was at a total loss for words.

All was well when the plane actually took off, and Charlotte was content to enjoy the rest of the flight in moderate silence until a violent shake of the plane jolted her eyes open.

 “Oh my God, what was that?” She asked, turning to look at the man beside her whose brows were furrowed in confusion.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain. We’re experiencing some slight turbulence. If you could please remain seated with your seatbelts on until the light turns off. Thank you.’

“See, it’s just some turbulence --” he started to say, his calm voice being cut off by her exhaling sharply next to him. “Do you really think he’d tell us if we were about to die, dude?” Charlotte snapped, trying to focus on anything but the fact that they were about to die. 

“I think… I think he’s legally obligated to, no?” The man’s thick brows furrowed further, the tiniest quirk of a smile playing at his full lips.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at the man, this logical, beautiful man. Another particularly violent rock of the plane had her gripping on to the mans’ arm.

“I can’t die. I’m too young -- I haven’t accomplished anything with my life,” Charlotte breathed, squeezing her eyes shut.  “I mean, I haven’t had kids, I’ve never even been in love. My boyfriend is a joke to human kind. I don’t even know if I have a G-spot…” She definitely regretted the words as they slipped out, her hand tensing even more.

“Excuse me?” There was an almost comical tone to the man’s voice as he cracked a small smile.  As if he couldn’t get more perfect, his teeth had to be straight and white too?

“That’s not important--”

“It seems like something you feel is extremely important to you.” Who was this smug stranger beside her? And why did he find such joy in her discomfort? “My boyfriend -- He… Doesn’t know how to use his mouth. The way he uses his tongue, I told him I liked it. I told him that I’ve never experienced anything like it. Which is true, but it’s a dreadful experience…”

The conversation continued like that, and somehow Charlotte found comfort in telling this complete stranger her secrets. Especially about the meeting she completely messed up earlier in the day, how her skirt had ripped, and how much she hated her co-worker. It wasn’t until she overhead the stewardess speak did she realize that not only was the turbulence finished, but so was the flight itself.

“Why didn’t you tell me we had landed?” Charlotte asked, almost breathless from her constant monologue.

“It seemed like you had a few things you wanted to get off your chest. And let me tell you, I don’t think I know any of my friends as well as I know you, especially not even knowing your name, doll.”

Charlotte was about to tell him, but the man, this stupidly handsome mysterious man was up and out of his seat before she could even open her mouth. 

“Darling, we’ll keep this between us. I don’t need to know your name. Thanks for sharing all your dirty little secrets,” He had said with a wink before leaving the plane completely.

What the fuck did she just do? ---

Monday morning wasn’t any easier for her, memories of the plane ride haunting her thoughts the entirety of Sunday.  Charlotte wasn’t sure she’d be able to maintain her focus when meeting the new CEO if she could barely be attentive enough to brush her damn hair.

It was amusing to overhear the rumours that made their way around about the new CEO, and if Charlotte was having a better morning she likely would have joined in the fun. Sipping her coffee quietly, she glanced over at her friend as she began to speak.

“I heard once that he has a rolodex of prostitutes that he keeps for when he feels in the mood, doesn’t do relationships.” Charlotte rolled her eyes at Rachel’s words as they watched out of the large windows for the man’s arrival. “Holy shit he’s even hotter than people said he was…” 

It wasn’t long before the rest of them ran to their desks, appearing as though they were doing work as the new CEO headed up the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, they seemed to take the air from Charlotte’s lungs with them.

It was him. She saw his profile first, and she could have recognized that jawline from a mile away, or the seemingly ever present pout on his full lips. It was the handsome stranger from the plane, the one who now definitely knew about all the shenanigans that went on around the office when they all thought the person above them wasn’t paying attention. The stranger she spilled all her deepest, darkest secrets to. Their Director of Operations, Beth, came out of her office, a bright smile on her lips as she embraced the man.

 “Calum, the last time I saw you, you were just graduating high school --” she recalled fondly, the smile on the man -- Calum’s face was radiant as she pinched his cheeks. “Alright everyone, listen up. This is our new CEO, Calum Hood. As you know, he is David’s son, and he’ll be working from our offices to ensure everything is running smoothly.  You haven’t let me down before, don’t start now.” The words were said with a sweet smile, but everyone knew you didn’t mess with Beth.

“Thank you, Beth --”

A whisper from behind her did not fall on deaf ears, “His fucking accent though…”

“Keep it in your pants, Rachel,” Charlotte whispered back, her attention going back to the warm brown eyes that had now landed on her.

“-- I may be my father’s son, but I most definitely am not him. This company, at the very least, should have some fun. So if any of you have a suggestion or two on how we can improve, I’ll be in my office all day getting myself sorted.” Calum’s eyes scanned the room, freezing when they landed on Charlotte. Giving her a simple nod, the man’s warm smile was replaced with a tense one before he turned to walk into his office.

***

After seeing her, there was no way for Calum to focus. He’d hate to admit it, but ever since that plane ride he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that girl. The confessions she made to him left him wondering so many things -- at least if she stopped in he could thank her for exposing so many secrets of the office.

Throughout the day, various people stopped in his office to introduce themselves; each woman coming across more desperate than the last.  He supposed he shouldn’t think that when these women were working for him. He’d be stupid, though, to pretend like he didn’t notice each lingering glance they’d give, or each lean forward to try and show off their clevage. 

A soft knock on his door towards the end of the day was the one who held his attention the most -- because it was her. He still didn’t know her name, but seeing her today, he felt a strange pang in his chest that made him want to know it. Calum knew he should have let her tell him on the plane, then maybe in another world if they hadn’t serendipitously worked together he’d be able to find her.

“Mr.Hood?” Her voice was softer than he remembered, but maybe Calum was just thinking of it in the form of terror she had expressed to him the other night.

“Call me Calum, please. And your name?” Calum asked with a quirked eyebrow, a small smile forming on his lips. 

“Charlotte,” she stated with a small smile as well, stepping into his office further. Her outfit was more indicative of her personality than her travel clothes had been -- her blonde hair pulled into space buns with wisps of hair falling into her face, the front of her pastel pink button up tucked into a pair of bright blue floral pants. Pastel pink and blue were not exactly a colour combination Calum would have gone with personally, but it suited her.

Calum realized then that he was checking her out, and by no means in a subtle way. “Uh, sit, please,” he gestured to the chair across his desk, wanting to make her more comfortable.

“I wasn’t sure I even really needed to come in here today, given the circumstances of the other night. But Rachel told me it’d be weird if I didn’t come to introduce myself to our new boss…” Charlotte had begun to ramble, and Calum couldn’t bite back the smile that pulled at his lips, the genuine kind that always made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Something about the smile made Charlotte’s breath catch in her throat, her body almost visibly stilling.

“It probably would have been weird to your co-workers, but if you’re uncomfortable here working directly with me, I can arrange it so you’re transferred to a different office,” Calum’s response was more an HR response than anything, wanting to make her more comfortable. But also maybe, just maybe, Calum was itching to reach up and brush the blonde hairs from her face. Transfer so that she wasn’t directly under him in the business sense, but could be directly beneath him in other ways.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the woman speaking up once more. 

“No, no. It’s not that--” Charlotte started, pulling her lip between her teeth. “I just don’t want it to be weird for you. I did after all tell you a lot about myself.”

“Speaking of a lot -- How’s your boyfriend?” The question was out before Calum could stop himself, the topic itself completely catching Charlotte off guard as she stilled for the second time in a span of 5 minutes.

“He’s uh, good. He works here also, in the IT department. I don’t know if I told you that part.” A blush spread across the woman’s cheeks, and Calum found the whole interaction endearing.

“You didn’t happen to mention that, no.”

“Yeah, you’ll probably meet him as you work your way through meeting the rest of your staff--” Her sentence was topped off with a shaky laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

Calum wondered very briefly if she was nervous around him because of the things he knew about her, or because she happened to be as attracted to him as he was to her. It was inflating his own ego, of course, to think the latter. Who said having high hopes were a bad thing though? “Anyways,” Charlotte said, standing up abruptly, “I should go. Getting towards the end of the day, and I promised my roommate we could binge season 2 of Sex Education.”

The irony of that statement was not lost on Calum, what with her exposing rather intimate details about her sex life to him only a couple days prior… And now she was going to go and watch a show called Sex Education? 

“Hold on,” The words sounded choked as they came from Calum’s mouth, likely conveying how desperate he felt to keep the conversation going. “What’s uh -- What’s his name? Your boyfriend, that is. I’d like to be aware of the relationships going on in the office.”

Charlotte grinned then, a mischievous glint in her eyes that had Calum sweating, “While we don’t have time to unpack all the relationship drama going on here, my boyfriend’s name is Gavin… Goodnight Calum, I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, she was gone, as if their whole interaction had been a dream. and Calum was so fucked.

tag list:  @cals-wildflower​ @talkfastromance4​ @softbabiestan​ @roseycal​ @calum-uncrowned​ @boyfriend-cal​ @wildflowerirwin​ @irwindoll​ @gosh-im-short​ @atlcalm​ @thesubtweeter​ @heavenisapeach​ @ridingcthood​ @loveroflrh​ @wokeupinjapanisabop​ @talkfastdrummer​

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fan fiction