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melrodrigo · 2 days

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music nerds

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.

A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.

It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.

“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.

“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.

He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.

When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.

You sigh softly, shaking your head.

Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.

You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.

You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.

They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.

Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.

You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.

Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.

“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.

“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.

“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.

It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.

You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.

“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.

She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.

She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.

You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.

“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.

She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.

Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!

You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.

“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.

You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.

You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.

“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.

“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.

She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.

“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.

“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.

“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.

“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.

Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.

You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.

“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.

You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.

“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”

She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.

“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.

“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.

She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.

When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.

“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.

You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.

You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.

“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.

Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.

You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.

She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.

But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.

You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.

“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.

It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.

You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.

She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.

“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.

“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.

You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.

“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.

You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.

“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.

His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.

“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.

“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.

You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.

“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.

“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.

You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.

“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.

You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”

“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.

For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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mrsparrasblog · 3 days

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You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader

TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation

prev part first part. next part

Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.

You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.

"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.

"Babe, please."

"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.

"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.

"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.

When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"

"Got in some fights around the base."

"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.

"Don't want anyone else."

"Kyle."

"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."

You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.

"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.

"Love—"

"Let me clean you."

He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.

"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."

"Kyle, I can't lie to you."

You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.

"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."

"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."

"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.

"He understands."

"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.

"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."

"Let me fix this."

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John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.

"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."

"Cheated on you, deserve it."

"I know it was Johnny."

"Lie."

"Kyle told me."

"Oh."

"Can you forgive me, John?"

"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.

"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?

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

"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.

"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.

"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.

"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."

"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"

"There will be, and then we'll be happy."

"You're sick. This will never happen."

"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."

"No one will believe you."

"They will."

And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.

"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."

"Hen, please."

You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?

"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."

"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.

"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."

You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"

"Love, don't believe—"

"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"

That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.

"Luv?"

"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.

Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.

"Johnny?"

"Go away, Lt."

"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."

"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."

"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.

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ghouljams · 12 hours

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*gnawing on the bars of my enclosure* please please please tell me more about distribution system Gaz, I promise I can be trusted with it *swallowing tetanus* I can be normal about him I swear *bending metal* I know how to behave

It's hard to explain the Gaz Distribution System without the understanding that Gaz is the Gaz Distribution System. He spots you on a Tesco run and decides you'd be a pretty thing to come home to. So he makes it happen. He checks the time, makes note of the street, where the nearest tube station is, bus stop, cafes, and comes back the next day. He waits to see you, and when you don't see him, he follows you a few blocks to see if he can figure out where you're going. He figures out what pub you go to with your coworkers on Fridays, and glances your credit card for a name when you pull it out to for the tab.

Gaz finds you, he knows you, before you ever see him coming. Your partner breaks up with you on a Sunday, it's completely out of the blue, and it absolutely shatters you. By Friday you barely feel up for after work drinks but your friends are so insistent about getting you out of the house that you relent. You're still a little misty eyed, your lip still wobbles when the wrong song comes over the pub's little speakers, but you stand at the bar to order, and Gaz sidles up beside you to do the same. You notice him --finally-- when he settles his hand on the bar next to you, bracketing you close to the wood as he leans just a little too close to catch the bar tender's attention.

You look up at him, and he must sense your attention because he looks at you and his smile falls into concern. He asks if you're ok, if someone's bothering you, no here let him buy you a drink, poor thing. He tells you that sometimes it's easier spilling your sorrows to a stranger, in a soft voice that drips with care. You're drawn in to him, and confess that you're recently heartbroken, that your friends are trying to cheer you up but everything reminds you of your partner. Gaz listens with a look of concern, hums at the appropriate places, and tells you he's so sorry, with such a genuine tone that you'd almost think he was apologizing for breaking you up(and how silly would that be! You don't even know this man, never seen him before in your life).

You wake up the next morning to an unsaved number texting you to ask if you got home alright, if you need any help getting rid of your ex's stuff, if you need any muscle to make sure they don't try anything to get back at you. You have to assume it's Gaz. But you don't remember giving him your number...

#x reader #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz x reader #gaz x gn!reader #gn!reader #gaz modern warfare #gaz distribution system #the charm on this man is offensive #it's illegal

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aestheticaltcow · 2 days

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Cooking Class

Part of the Six Months universe.

Teaching a cooking class at The Bear, what could go wrong?

“Nat- you should’ve texted me bout this before planning it all out.” Carmy groaned as Natalie shot him an apologetic smile.

“Mom brain?” she said, forcing a laugh to follow. She sighed before continuing, “Carmen, it’s one night. It won’t kill you. I guarantee Y/N and Mia will be fine.”

Carmy rolled his eyes at her and asked if he could use Mia as an excuse to escape this. Natalie shook her head and offered to watch her whenever he wanted. Feeling torn between his responsibilities and his family, Carmy reluctantly agreed to teach a cooking class at The Bear the following night. As he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing at the thought of having to teach some auction-winning d-bag how to make a signature dish from The Bear’s menu. All he wanted was to go home and snuggle with his girls. He shot you a text ranting about the new commitment before staring at his phone screen, waiting for your response. You disliked the message and sent him a picture of Mia playing in the sand at the park.

Don’t worry Carm, we’ll survive without ya xo.

He rolled his eyes and pushed his phone back into his pocket before walking back into the kitchen from the office. He watched Syd assign different line cooks to different sections to best utilize their skills. He playfully bumped into her, earning a smack to the shoulder and an annoyed groan, “Paul got us really good seats for the Blackhawks game-” she started to explain only for Carmy to cut her off. He squinted at her, “You don’t like hockey. You could do this class.”

Syd rolled her eyes and ignored the judgment from her coworker-turned-best friend: “I like Paul, though. You watched all the Top Gun movies for Y/N. Love makes you do stuff you hate, Berzatto.”

That night, Carmy walked through the front door to hear loud squeals echoing through the house. He shook his head and chuckled at the sounds of splashing and your poor impression of an elephant. As he walked down the hallway, his heart skipped a beat as Mia’s laughter became more apparent. Carmy peered into the bathroom and saw Mia sitting in the bathtub with a shampoo mohawk. He laughed and stepped into the room. You looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Hi, Daddy.” you greeted as Carmy slowly sat beside you. He kissed your cheek before turning his attention to the happy-as-a-clam toddler eagerly reaching toward him. “Woah there, princess. Let Mommy finish washing your hair first.” he explained as she shook her head, squealing, “Dada home! Dada home!”

You laughed at the interaction and allowed Mia to attempt to get out of the tub. Thankfully, she was still too little to do alone. Mia glared at the tub's edge, making you and Carmy laugh as she plopped back into the water. She refused to let you finish giving her the nightly bath she typically loved, “Mia, my princess, you can snuggle with Daddy as soon as I wash your hair, okay?” you explained as Mia’s bottom lip quivered. “I can do it, baby.” Carmy offered; he took over before you could accept his offer. You shook your head as you watched Mia happily comply. She already had that man wrapped around her little finger, and you couldn’t help but shake your head, “I’m gonna get her pjs ready.” you smiled and squeezed his shoulder with your still-damp hands.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away…” Carmy softly sang as he rocked an almost asleep Mia in his arms. You watched as he slowly set her into her crib before placing her favorite lovie beside her. He ran his thumb against her cheek and whispered, “I love you,” one last time before turning his attention to you. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to suppress the giggles that threatened to spill from your lips. His cerulean eyes looked you up and down as he reached toward your hips. You managed to escape his grip and scamper into the hallway.

“Where ya goin’, baby?” Carmy teased as you stepped over the threshold of your bedroom. You thought you’d escaped him but squealed when you felt his arms wrap around your waist. Carmy pulled you closer to him and buried his face in the crook of your neck. As he mumbled something you couldn’t hear, you placed your hands on his. You stepped forward, pulling him with you, “Are you smellin’ me?” your question went unanswered as Carmy’s hands squeezed your stomach.

Carmy let go of your waist, and you face planted onto the mattress. When the weight of the mattress shifted, you rolled onto your side to stare at Carmy. He grinned, “I really don’t want to do that cooking lesson tomorrow night.”

“Hey Carmy, rich assholes are here for the cookin’ lesson,” Richie said as he walked into the kitchen. The restaurant closed after an uneventful lunch service, so Carmy and Richie could clean up and prep for the lesson. “What’re you teachin’ them?” Richie asked, pulling his suit jacket off. Carmy washed his hands one last time and quickly answered that they would make a simple risotto. Richie nodded, “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

“Hello, everyone,” Carmy introduced, looking around the front of the restaurant to see what he presumed to be two couples. One was a woman with dark brown hair in a modest emerald green dress around his age who introduced herself as Vanessa. With her was a slightly older man with salt and pepper hair and a trimmed beard who’d introduced himself as Nico. The other was an older, presumed married couple around Donna’s age. The woman smiled brightly and practically shook in her boots to get into the kitchen. She introduced herself as Pearl and her husband, Ernie. He seemed less excited to be there, but Carmy grinned when he noticed Pearl squeeze his hand excitedly. “I’m Chef Carmen, welcome to The Bear. I think you were promised Chef Sydney. I’m by no means as entertaining as her, but I promise you’ll learn a lot about one of our signature dishes here at The Bear.” he took a breath and looked around the room to see the woman biting her lip. Carmy rolled his shoulders back, “Risotto was one of the first dishes Chef Sydney wanted on the menu, and after a couple revisions, we now have our signature risotto alla milanese with slow-roasted seasonal vegetables and beef tenderloin… any questions before we get started?”

As Carmy walked the group through the cooking process, he couldn’t help but notice Vanessa’s lingering glances. He tried to avoid her as he explained knife technique to the others, but when she brushed against his hip for the third time, Carmy started to pick up on her intentions. “Nessie, can you hand me the onion, sweetheart?” Nico asked, not noticing how close she was to Carmy. Vanessa rolled her eyes and obliged the request.

“So, Chef Carmen, how long have you been a chef?” Pearl asked as she stirred beef stock into her risotto. “Uh, professionally, about 15 years, but it’s always been my thing, I guess,” Carmy answered as he grated garlic for her. Pearl smiled and thanked him before verging into more personal questions. Ernie sighed and apologized for his wife. Carmy chuckled, “Don’t worry, Ernie, mine does the same thing.”

“You’re married?” Vanessa questioned as she stepped around Nico to be closer to him. Carmy nodded, “Happily married for seven years now.” Pearl gushed at Carmy’s response and started asking about you. Ernie chuckled as he shook his head. “Pearlie, you don’t have to ask every question that pops in that head of yours.” Pearl playfully hit her husband’s chest in response, “It’s not my fault Chef Carmen here reminds me of Robbie- Robbie is my youngest. About your age, he’s in the Navy.”

The lesson was uneventful, subtracting Vanessa’s obvious flirtation. Carmy was confused about why Nico hadn’t said anything to her. If you were hitting on another man in front of him, he’d say something. Why wasn’t Nico? Carmy pushed the thought out of his head and said his goodbyes to everyone as he walked them through the dining area. As he held the door open, Pearl said thank you one last time, and Ernie practically had to drag her out of the restaurant. Carmy chuckled and invited her back anytime she pleased. Nico had his eyes on his phone as he flashed Carmy a grin before hurrying out of the restaurant. Vanessa, on the other hand, lingered. She looked up at Carmy with big doe eyes fawning a false innocence. Carmy softly swallowed, “Can I come whenever I want?” her voice was low as she looked up at him longingly. Carmy shook his head, “That’s not a good idea.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes and ran a finger down Carmy’s chest, “Too bad… I want to get you out of that apron sometime.” Carmy awkwardly chuckled in response. She shot him a wink as she walked out of the restaurant toward Nico, who had been holding the passenger side door of their car open for her. He looked Carmy up and down before walking around the car to the driver’s side.

Carmy locked the restaurant's front door and went back into the kitchen; Richie emerged from the office. “The lesson go okay?” he asked, slipping his phone into his pocket. Carmy shrugged, “Yo, could you clean this up?”

Richie rolled his eyes, “Sure…you okay?” Carmy nodded and went to the lockers, removing his apron as he walked. Richie watched him; something happened, but he was too tired to deal with Carmy’s bullshit. Carmy quickly pulled his backpack and jacket out of his locker before changing his shoes and running out of the kitchen. Richie watched and wondered what was going on in that kid’s head before he started scrubbing the counters.

It was almost midnight when Carmy got home. You were in the bathroom brushing your teeth when he came through the bedroom door. “Yo baby, can we talk about somethin?” Carmy asked from the doorframe. You spat in the sink before turning the water on to rinse your mouth and toothbrush. “Everything okay, Carmen?” you asked as you stepped toward him. The look on his face made alarm bells go off in your head, “What did you do?”

Carmy watched as you crossed your arms over your chest, and he stepped away from the doorframe to allow you to exit the bathroom. You glared at him as he flexed his hands at his sides, “I didn’t do anything- I promise, nothing happened, but at that cooking class, this girl was just… aggressive? She was there with her husband but was very blatantly hitting on me.” he started to explain. Carmy couldn’t look at you while he explained what had happened, “I uh- I didn’t know how to shut it down, I guess. I didn’t do anything with her, and I absolutely won’t because I love you, and I can’t lose you again.” He took a shallow breath and looked up at you. You frowned and let your arms fall before closing the distance between you.

“Carmy. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.” you said as you reached up to rub his bicep. Carmy released his breath and limply wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his body, “I love you, baby.”

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fanfiction

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magpod-confessions · 2 days

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I know sexism in fandom is a thing, but I mostly encounter a lot of very vocal love and positivity for female tma characters (not to say that's the case in all forums ofc). Which is good, obviously.

Basira, Georgie and Melanie are important characters, but they all come along later and honestly throughout a lot of Canon kinda feel like an anti-jon wall. If you happen to be a fan who doesn't vibe with that sentiment, its less appealing to engage with a big portion of the female characters. It's not wrong or right to find yourself empathising more with Georgie or Martin etc etc, none of thecharacters are all good or bad so it's personal how a listener is gonna feel. But to me it sort of unfortunately feels like, since the (majority of significant) women are kind of aligned in one group, youre more likely to either into all of them or none of them. I hope that makes sense? Like I'm very much not coming after anyone.

Also some other thoughts on sexism: sasha has less time, less backstory, and is less developed than say Tim. So she has less content. Someone saying "if you do an ao3 search for fics that include sasha but not Tim, there isn't many, so sexism!" doesnt make much sense to me. The workplace is the only context we have for sasha, and Tim is her coworker and friend. A fanfic featuring sasha but NOT Tim (or any other magnus staff!) would have to create a lot of backstory wholecloth, and not everyone wants to do that. I love her in fanon, but we gotta acknowledge it really mostly is fanon.

As for Helen vs Michael. Michael's backstory is more developed, he was played and manipulated, its pretty damn tragic. Helen is dope! But if you want that flavour of angst and tragedy, Michael has more to work with.

I think it comes down to the type of fan you are and what you prefer to engage with! I suspect jonny has tried to make this less of a factor in tmagp and is focusing on giving more background to female characters from the start. Not trying to insinuate anything shitty abt him either.

#yea #magpod #tma #the magnus archives #tmagp #the magnus protocol #magpod confession

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intoxicated-chan · 2 days

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ║ ❝𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡❞

(A/n) ➳ I’m back at writing! I thank those who gave me advice that helped me with my writer’s block. Hopefully I can keep a schedule and I thank those who waited! Thank you all!

Word Count ➳ 1.3k

Content Warnings ➳ Alcohol use, drug trafficking, mentions of baby trapping, swearing, mentions of toxic friend group dynamic, threats of violence...

JUDAS Masterlist

DARYL WAS PULLED IN A HUG WHILE ANOTHER MAN PATTED HIS BACK.

Andrea brought the glass of cheap liquor to her lips as she eyed Daryl conversing with the group of men. She wouldn’t say he was friendly with them but seemed to be coworkers of some kind.

“Are you seein’ this?” Andrea asked Amy who quickly agreed with her.

Amy pulled her phone up to take a photo. “(Y/n)’s gotta see this-”

Andrea snatched the phone out of her hands. “Jus’ cause he’s talkin’ to some guys doesn’t make it suspicious. You need hard evidence.”

“Like what?”

“Watch.”

Andrea kept her distance as she maneuvered past people, nearly getting a drink spilled on her when she was pushed by a dancing couple. She blended into the background as she came closer to Daryl and his friends.

She observed his interactions with the other patrons, noticing how he kept glancing around, as if he was expecting someone. He then leaned into a man, like a hug and passed something into his pocket and shook his hand.

She could only see them whispering to each other until Daryl turned around at hand gasping his shoulder.

It was Merle, he leaned in. “How much do you get this month?” He asked, taking the wad of cash from Daryl’s pocket.

“Less, cops been ‘round.” Daryl again looked around. “And one might be pokin’ their nose where it don’ belong.”

“I told you not to get involved with that woman.” Merle commented, counting the cash. “Look at you now.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Merle chuckled, putting the cash into his back pocket. “She ain’t gonna stay for you, tie ‘er down or somethin’. From the way you talk ‘bout her, she’d make a good mom.”

“Ya can’t-”

“Leah called again, need you for the next run.”

“Did ya not hear me?”

“The hell the cops gonna do? They got nothin’.” Merle laughed, ignoring Daryl. “The guy needs his money, some shit ‘bout his wife.” Rolling his eyes, he was annoyed, getting pushed to do more and more work while their boss gets most of their earnings.

“He needs ‘em now?”

Merle shrugged, coming to the bar and ordering a drink for them both. “Friday.” Two days from now. “You goin’ be meetin’ with her-”

Daryl waved him off, remembering the place. It wasn’t like he was the one bringing the shipment to her every time Merle was ordered to do it himself. Daryl walked to the bar, easily drowning the shot given to him.

He just needed to stick it out for a few more runs then he could be free. Free from his brother, free from this mess, he can finally go back to you without everything haunting his mind.

“Another.” He demanded. He wasn’t going to be able to make home sober tonight. He huffed, taking out his phone. He pressed on your contact, bring the phone to his ear as he took his shot. It rang a few times before you answered.

“Daryl? What is that sound?”

“At some bar.” He responded.

“Are you alright? You sound drunk- please don’t tell me you’re drunk.”

“I’ll be drunk soon, darlin’.”

He heard you sigh over the phone. “Send me your address, I’ll pick you up.”

“Yer too kind.” He chuckled.

“Jus’... Jus’ don’t drink too much.”

“Yeah.”

He threw his head back as he took the shot, groaning as the burning sensation went down his throat, clouding his mind as the more shots he took, the more the alcohol influenced him.

What Daryl remembered was slumped over the bar and then pushed into a car that smelled fresh. Your voice filled his mind as you spoke to him to keep him awake. God, the way you took care of him made him relax.

You sat in your recliner, legs crossed as you held a mug of coffee. You watched Daryl’s chest rise and fall, keeping close as it was becoming noon.

He had passed out the second he hit your couch, and you were too worried about him to sleep so you stayed awake.

Your phone had buzzed for the hundredth time for this day. It was a string of text messages coming from Shane, begging you to think twice about Daryl.

You were disappointed in Shane. You knew he was rash, but you didn’t think he’d react this way when he was rejected.

You have no idea what the hell you’re doing

You could hear him say it, repeatedly. It played like a song that you wanted out of your head. It was annoying, frustrating, and somewhat depressing.

“Ya should really block him.” Daryl’s hoarse voice made you snap your head up and see him awake. He rubbed his eyes as he grumbled. “That coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Hand it over.” He weakly demanded, it made you laugh and hand it over with ease.

“Glad to see you alive.” You got up, stretching your legs. “I was thinkin’ I might have to take you to the hospital with the number of shots you took.”

“That’s what work does to ya.” He responded, taking a large gulp of the coffee as he slowly sat up. “Still haven’t answered ma question.”

“Don’t worry about me, Dixon. I'll make some food for you.”

“No, sit down.”

“Daryl you’re hungover-”

“Sit.” He pushed your throw pillow on the ground, having you sit next to him. “Ya don’ block ‘im ‘cause yer worried, ain’t ya?”

“...I never seen him act like this before. Yes, I’m worried ‘bout him. He's texting me every minute!” You explained, feeling your chest tighten as your voice wavered. “Then Lori! And Rick! Who’s next? Carl?!”

“It’s ‘cause of me.”

“Please Daryl, it’s not you. It ain’t your fault.” You immediately reacted, grabbing his shoulders. “I jus’ realized that my place in that group wasn’t as a friend but a prop. They knew I didn’t have much around me and used it to their advantage. If I disagreed with someone then the rest turned against me. I'm better off with Amy, Andrea, and you.”

“Yer gonna regret it.”

“I can promise you now that I won’t.” You retorted. You then sighed, laying back. “Let’s stop talkin’ ‘bout this. I seriously need a smoke.”

“I got some in ma bag.” Daryl looked around, his eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t see around him.

“It’s in my car.” You replied, pushing yourself up to grab your shoes and keys. “Your brother was kind enough to get your ass in my car and bring your bike.”

“Merle?”

“Yeah, met him I pulled up. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Nah. It’s nothing.” You nodded and left, leaving Daryl sitting on the couch.

As he took another sip from the mug, Daryl’s phone rang. He glanced at his phone briefly but didn’t bother to check the caller ID as he flipped open his phone, assuming it was his brother.

“Merle.” Daryl answered, rather annoyed.

“Daryl, my man!” His voice boomed though the phone, all cocky and charming as usual. “How’s my favorite deliver boy doin’ today?”

The voice on the other end wasn’t Merle’s. It was Negan Smith. Daryl’s heart dropped as he recognized him.

His voice made Daryl’s stomach churn. If he remembered correctly, the delivery was for friday, tomorrow and any call from Negan was never good news.

“What do ya want, Negan?”

“There’s been a change of plans. We’ve got an emergency and I need the damn goods by midnight. Tonight.”

“We had a deal-!”

“Fuck the deal, Dixon.” Negan's tone shifted suddenly, becoming serious. “You’ve got until midnight. Don't make me come lookin’ for you. We all remember what happened last time you were late.”

With that, Negan hung up, leaving Daryl staring at his phone in disbelief. He threw his phone and held the scream he wanted to let out, but he held his head in his hands.

He had until midnight... Failure wasn’t an option.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @mylifeinthetardisforever r , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @devilxbug , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @tremendousstarlighttragedy , @skulliecadaver-blog , @remusmuse ,

⊰ Chapter 7 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 9 ⊰

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allurilove · 2 days

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I hate both classmates lol 😭

I personally LOVE rejection fics so now I think we all need a fic where reader dislikes both of them lol. She has a better temper with the second one(the more submissive one) but absolutely DESPISES the first classmate. He is so annoying bro 😭 if someone broke into my house and then drew photos of me submitting to them I would report that shit to the school and the police on god. Now the second classmate she just doesn’t like because of his appearance primarily. She isn’t a fan of his shaggy hair, or his piercing, or the way he dresses, he’s also too short for her. She’s cool with him though, even if she won’t go out of her way to talk to him.

tbh if the guys I wrote about were real I would hate them too! I think I have a couple of fics where yall are gonna absolutely HATE the yandere 🤷🏻‍♀️ and I have a fic where it’s yandere x yandere and dads best friend x yandere you.

Yandere Classmate

(the submissive one)

You just weren’t interested, period. He decided to confess his feelings for you on the last day of school, hoping that maybe you would like him back, and that you two could start dating. But he felt his heart drop when your expression was stoic. You started to say how you really only think of him as “that guy from math class” or “that guy that always sits near me at lunch”

His face slowly turned pink as he realized you weren’t returning his affections, and he nervously played with his backpack straps. Thankfully the hallways were empty and no one could see him slowly slide down the wall, and sit on the ground in sorrow. After all the years of pining after you… he still wouldn’t say that he wasted his time.

During the summer, he begrudgingly had to go to work. He previously got a job at your favorite ice cream shop, and now he had to actually work. Shit. He had his little ridiculous cone hat on, and a pink and brown stripped shirt with a little name tag in the corner. When he sees you walking around with your friends and you passed the parlor a couple of times, he had to duck down. He was suddenly embarrassed and self aware of what he had done. He confessed, you didn’t like him back and only saw him as a “friend”, and now he has to serve a bunch of whiny kids for the rest of the summer.

He was underneath the counter- just gripping onto his apron in hopes that you wouldn’t fancy an ice cream on a hot summer day.

Yandere Classmate

(the popular one that is the yearbook club leader)

He thought it would’ve been an obvious yes. His hands tightly gripped at the paper he was holding and he had to fake a smile. You outright rejected him in front of the whole school, and he was just trying to ask you to prom. His shoulders are tense as you walk off- not even sending a single glance back at him. His friends surround him and pat him on the back, saying that it was your loss anyways.

After school, your classmate avoided the hallway where you rejected him. Just the memories of that was enough to make him shrink back into his shell. He wanted to see you again, however, you really really did not like him. So what does he do? Get a job at your favorite ice cream place.

Your classmate rolled his eyes as his coworker hid underneath the counter whenever you walked past. He heard that fucker tried to confess his feelings to you too, so he’s a bit bitter having to work with him.

Your classmate perked up as you walked over to the parlor, an automatic smile on his face and he ignored how his coworker popped up from his spot too. Both men were now staring at you. One was a little shy and avoiding eye contact, the other was giving too much eye contact.

You both watch as the yanderes worked in a fervor trying to scoop up the ice cream you wanted. The men having to shove each other out of the way, and the popular one managed to be the winner of that front. However, the loner managed to wack his knee with the ice cream scooper.

In the end both men are panting and hold the ice cream in your face. They say that it’s free of charge, and you happily take the two ice creams.

#Allurilove asks #Allurilove yandere writing #rejecting BOTH of the yandere classmates!#they both fight for you #yandere classmates both meet each other #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

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serialunaliver · 5 hours

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is it better to just not ask people (like coworkers) if they're alright/how they're doing, even if it's pretty clear something's wrong and the concern is genuine? like, i always feel like it's cold to just ignore things, but on the other hand i don't wanna ruin someone's day by being a clueless dumbass like your coworkers kinda sound like, if that makes sense (<- hasn't been in a social situation since they were 13)

honestly I don't like it when coworkers ask about my health or treat me differently because of it; it's one reason I hate my job actually. I know it can be hard to watch someone have a decline of physical and/or mental health but pointing it out can feel invasive or humiliating especially when there's so much pressure to conform in a work environment.

generally I think this sort of questioning should be reserved for private conversations with close friends rather than random coworkers who you only speak to at work.

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kazoosandfannypacks · 17 hours

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same premise as a fake dating au, but make it platonic:

"I've never met you before, but you're the only other woman in this bar and this guy's been creeping on me; can you pretend to be my childhood best friend?"

"I told my sister I was going to babysit her son, but only because I accidentally told my date tonight that I'm a single parent and she wanted to meet my kid."

"This indie cafe offers cheaper drinks if you refer a friend; wanna pretend we know each other?"

"You jokingly said that we've been friends for years, but someone believed it, so even though we've never met each other this is objectively a very funny bit to commit to"

"oh shoot i told my parents i was hanging out with friends but it's actually a date and now my parents are here and can't know about this; quick, let's join these kids from school so it doesn't seem suspicious"

"oh the group discount is a family discount? well, I'd like to introduce my 'siblings'"

"This contest is father/son only and it's been my dream to win this for years, but dad's not in the picture anymore. I know you're just a good friend of my mom, but I know your angle; I'll put in a good word with her if you pretend to be my dad today"

"it's career day at school, but one parent is unemployed and the other one's gone. i know you're just an employee at the coffee shop i study at, but do you think you could take their place?"

"we're dating but if my parents find out they won't let you come on vacation with us so we'll have to pretend to be just friends"

"we're coworkers who look so much alike everyone asks if we're related and from now on we're going to say yes."

"i walked into the restaraunt and made eye contact with my ex while he's on a date with another girl. I can't just walk out and I can't eat alone with him right over there; can I pull up a chair and join you ladies?"

"i want to go on this father/son camping trip, but my dad's not around. you've been my mentor figure at church for a while; wanna pretend to be my dad?"

"i come in and visit with the ladies in the nursing home every month. one lady with dementia thinks I'm her granddaughter and it doesn't help to correct her. the nurses said her family doesn't ever want to visit. she keeps asking about my sister [I don't have a sister] and saying how much she misses her, and I know it's gonna sound really horrible if i ask you to help me lie to an elderly dementia patient, but....."

feel free to add more! tag me if you use these :D

#kazzy writes #writing prompt #fake dating #fake platonic friendship #tropes #writing

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mattyknees · 2 days

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imagine you are in your mid twenties. you were always out of place - the eldest, uglier daughter of a bookstore owner that never said he loved you and was always disappointed in the decisions you made. you read science fiction and 40s detective novels and quite literally studied the blade because it was better than being at home or getting rejected by boys.

you've just been reassigned all the way across the country after the married coworker you were sleeping with was shot in the line of duty - on YOUR watch. everyone was looking at you because YOU let him die. so they sent you away. and now that you're here, it almost happens again.

something weird happens and they send you... all the way across the country again, with someone new in some weird location doing god knows what. and you get to do wonderful beautiful amazing scary life altering things. and you build a life there. you adopt a ferret and you move all of your belongings and you make friends and you save lives.

and then. oh, and then.

you grew up reading the novels. you fell in love with the writing and the fantasy of it all - science we could never dream of having and concepts we could never think of exploring. and then you got this job, and it all... it was all possible.

and then you met her. you found out she was actually a woman. and you met her. sure it was at the hot end of a gun, but. she saved your life. she gave you one of her inventions. she took you on wild adventures. you became partners.

you fell in love.

and then you met at the hot end of a gun again. she betrayed you, everyone you worked with, everyone you worked to make trust the both of you. she fell apart. you fell apart.

you gave it all up. they made her disappear.

she comes back one day. it's not really her. they trapped her mind and released her body off into the world. and just as you get her back she's gone again. she's gone and you're gone and she looks at you and says how dare you come back, how dare you interrupt my life, the life i'm building, the life i have away from you what are you doing here myka

"you called us"

myka bering you deserved so much more. you deserved more than bury your gays you deserved more than silent and implied bisexuality you deserved more than longing looks and lingering stares myka bering you deserved to be happy and to be emotional and to love helena wells with every part of your being and i am so sorry you didn't get that babe

#jayposting #warehouse 13 #myka bering #helena wells #bering and wells

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whorety-k · 2 days

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Ebony Coasts [Part 2]

I couldn't resist the allure of part two with our favorite raven man so please accept my continued rambles.

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

“No dawn, no day / I’m always in this twilight /In the shadow of your heart.”

Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, the dull horrors of an average day at the workplace

Word Count: 2k

[Part 1] [Part 3]

Submitting your report had been a frustrating endeavor with what felt like a million following questions. How many perpetrators? “What age were they?” “Why were you out alone?” “Why were there no tracks?” If you weren’t someone who so fiercely kept their word, you would have wondered if the paperwork of telling the world about the existence of mermaids was better than the droning interrogation by your supervisors. Thankfully, the excuse of nightfall and the surprising lack of CCTV around the marine protected area allowed you to actually get away with the lies you were feeding into your statements. Your submission to make that area of the beach quarantined off from the surrounding sands was approved, which you celebrated eagerly. Your reputation and knowledge definitely helped the push.

Your patience, however, could be better. You tried to return to Corvus’s beach the very next night, determined to let him know that he wasn’t going to be bothered by your agency any longer (and perhaps fully convince yourself that he was, in fact, real). You nearly missed the cave during your search; Corvus must have put more effort into concealing his newest home, as the entrance was thoroughly hidden amongst new coastal vegetation that wasn’t present the night before.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he was nowhere to be seen, his den left empty aside from the sloshing of water as you searched for him. Still, you were determined to gain the merman’s favor. The items you had taken from him as ‘evidence’ had unfortunately already been disposed of, so you had to resort to doing the next best thing. You left a proud silver pearl from your own trinket stash on one of the shelf-like rock formations deeper within the cavern. Seeing no other reason to stick around or snoop any longer, you headed home.

When your supervisor slaps down a manila folder detailing Corvus’s beach under the watch of you and your team, you could have hollered. You instead thank her politely before she returns to her own tasks, figuring an outburst wouldn’t have a great place in the quiet office. A quick read through the included documents and permits informs you that your team is now directly responsible for observation and maintenance of the shoreline, detailing the duties specific to you and each other member. Nothing appears to be too invasive toward your mysterious new friend– if you can call him that.

The first week out is spent surveying. It’s a task you’re intimately familiar with at this point in your career: taking notes on the flora and fauna of the area and their current condition, measuring certain formations’ levels of erosion and wear. It’s easy to fall into a flow state and forget yourself, not finding much of note as you converse with your coworkers and strategically leave out the depth of a certain familiar structure.

On the third day of the survey, you find that you’re the only one of your team to show up. A frustrated huff leaves your lips as you withdraw your phone in haste, tapping away inquiring messages and finding out that everyone but you has a convenient case of the common cold. You roll your eyes as you pocket the device. Surveying can be incredibly boring work– you really, truly know– but it’s important for record keeping. With your hands tucked into your jacket, a pack full of equipment, and your trusty waders to keep you dry, you set off along a safe path down the cliffside.

You reach the coastline without a hitch and set off to get started on today’s work. Time flies by as you check off each necessary task. The sun is nearly setting by the time you get around to making a routine documentation of the native succulents, when a piercing sensation of unease stops you cold. A look left or right reveals nothing of note, nothing out of place. You suppress the shiver down your spine as you kneel down and withdraw a metal pen from your backpack. Halfway through noting the species name of the invasive aizoaceae, the distinct prickle at the back of your neck becomes too much. You groan as you stand, brushing off your knees and turning around.

A mixture of a gasp and shriek leaves your throat when you come face to face with a familiar figure standing directly at your back, startling him almost as much as he startled you.

“Corvus–,” you choke out, placing a hand on your chest as you catch your breath.

The merman gives you an apologetic look. His baritone voice clears the tension in the air. “My apologies; I did not intend to alarm you."

You take a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh to calm yourself, looking up at the giant before you. You offer a pacifistic hand his way as you speak, “Apology accepted, but please stop doing that. I don’t want to die of a heart attack anytime soon.”

Corvus looks at your hand with marked confusion, much the same way he did the previous week. Mirroring his previous action, he tentatively places his much larger hand over your own. “It would be unpleasant to have to dispose of your body,” the merman utters.

You give Corvus an incredulous look before it clicks that he’s making a joke. You chuckle at his words, squeezing one of the digits of his hand before placing your hands in your pockets.

The peaceful staring contests between the two of you are starting to feel strangely comfortable as he observes you. In the waning sunlight, you get a far better look at his form than you could have in his cavern. Although still so starkly black and white, you’re able to see the muted grays and silvers speckled within his fins and scales. Looking at his fins, you notice that there’s actually quite a few more of them than you had originally observed. The dorsal fin at his back separates into a second caudal fin that wraps around the base of his tail. Two fins that would be pectoral fins on a regular fish lay at his sides just above the transition from skin to scale. Ventral fins trail below his hips at his front, obfuscating any anatomy you would have rudely just stared at. Corvus Corax has more similarities to a black betta fish than any other marine animal you could think of.

“You gifted me a pearl.”

The sound of the merman’s voice causes you to look back up at him.

“Was there a purpose for it?” he asks, leaning down to be closer to your level. The movement only serves to reinforce just how large he is compared to you, at least twice your size.

You momentarily gather your words. “I wanted to make up for the things I took from you earlier,” you reply, “I know it doesn’t make up for the entire thing but–”

“Thank you,” Corvus interrupts, the ghost of a grin on his face. The expression is so subtle in the abyss of his almond eyes that it’s nearly invisible, but the upturn of his normally ever-frowning lips is hard to miss.

You feel your cheeks warm at the genuine show of gratitude from the giant, excitement palpitating in your chest. You reflect that smile back at him. “I’m in charge of conservation at your beach now,” you shift topics with ease, enjoying the merman’s presence as he seems to slowly open up to you, “You’ll be seeing me around a lot more often.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ll be able to leave you a few more presents from time to time.”

The way the large mer faintly perks up like an excited dog at your promise melts your heart in an instant, and you hide your disappointment when Corvus tempers himself, taking on the more solemn posture characteristic of him. “I will be grateful for each of them,” the merman responds with grace, “but perhaps refrain from using pearls in the future.”

A sinking feeling fills you. It had taken you two entire hours to decide on what you were going to give Corvus for your official ‘sorry for stealing your hoard’ offering, and it distressed you to think that he didn’t like it as much as you had thought he would. You decide to apologize. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are pearls not your thing?”

Corvus emanates a low chuckle, the first of that specific sound you had heard come from the man. It reminded you of a low drum. His answer comes warmly, “The pearl was lovely. I am rather fond of them.”

You quirk your head at him, perplexed. “Oh… okay?” Your voice raises with confusion, a silent question laced within your remark.

Corvus’s face twists with brief intensity as he struggles to determine what to say. He exhales as he looks down at his tail fin. The look on his face can only be described as bashful, and for once it isn’t you struggling to respond. He keeps his face angled away from you when he eventually explains, “I find it difficult to deny a marriage proposal from someone so well-meaning.”

If your cheeks had only been warm before, they could make the sun itself shy away now. You gawk at him like a fish (a surprising twist of events, as the human in the situation), stammering as embarrassment quickly floods through your nervous system.

Both of you share the awkward moment unable to figure out a suitable response, Corvus cringing at his words and you hastily trying to apologize.

“I am grateful for your interest,” Corvus finally says in an attempt to ease the tension, “but I am not one to make such decisions hastily, so please allow me to ponder it.”

Words finally claw their way out of your throat. “I wasn’t trying to propose!” you accidentally bellow, making Corvus jump. You wrangle your emotions in, exerting visible force, before you continue. Your voice levels out, “...I just wanted to give you something back. They threw everything I took from you away already, so I couldn’t retrieve anything.”

Corvus’s expression is unreadable as he turns his head to fully look at you, mouth slightly agape. His lips seal and he nods, seeming relieved and… something else? “That greatly simplifies things,” is his short response.

You place your hands at the side of your head, grumbling, “Is there anything else I need to know about gifting you so I don’t accidentally, I don’t know, curse your family and insult your bloodline?”

The attempt at humor eases the giant in front of you and earns another soft chuckle. When he makes to lay upon his chest, the pink of the setting sun reflects off of the scant silver scales along his body. He settles upon his elbows, one clawed hand resting upon the other. A Corvus-sized trail in the wet sand behind him comes into view before you decide to sit down beside him, crossing your legs and resting your elbows on your knees. Corvus examines how your legs move with curiosity, shifting his tail into a more comfortable loose curl. It protects you from any of the more ambitious waves that travel up the beach.

“Any genuine token from you will be received positively,” the merman states.

You nod appreciatively to him, then turn your attention back to your previous task. As the sun dips below the horizon, you take the tranquil moment to finish up your survey notes, jotting down the remaining information about the invasive flora. Corvus’s eyes focus on your work, and he shifts closer to observe it. You complete your statement and shut your notebook with a dull thump, placing it at your side and clicking your writing utensil shut. When you shift to grab your backpack from behind you, your gaze lands on the jet merman. Even with his stony exterior, you can see how plainly his ebony eyes transfix upon the silver pen.

“...No.”

“Pardon?”

“You can’t have my pen.”

Corvus pouts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm absolutely whipped for this man and already thinking about making this a slow burn series for the month of May.

Also if anyone has any feedback, please to tell!! I enjoy everything from constructive criticism to incoherent keyboard mashing and your tags keep me inspired.

Until next time, my loves <3

[Part 3]

#primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #horus heresy #warhammer 40k x reader #wh 40k #corvus corax x reader #corvus corax #mermay #primarch #raven lady writings

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lettersofgold · 1 day

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-> unthinkable | chapter three | jules k.

genre: angst, fluff, smut | authors note: | loosely proofed y’all bare with me, running two blogs and writing multiple fics at once 🫣

warnings: google translations, loosely proofed

summary: jules could never get it quite right. no girl gave him the feeling that he had with you. he wasn’t even sure he knew how to love a woman until you came into his life - even when he was dating around, his loyalty and heart were with you. you couldn’t find someone who stirred the feeling of love in you the way jules did, but he was just a friend and he wasn’t done playing the field. the two of you were giving each other the love you both never felt before and after fighting it for so long, you realized you both deserved it and you were finally ready.

[ pictured fc: black!fem!reader & kaia ]

THEN.

The evening air was humid and unforgiving and your dress was beginning to accumulate sweat but you were grateful you chose the dress versus the dress pants your friend suggested over your anxious FaceTime call. You found yourself stuck outside the restaurant door, your hand on the knob but not daring to turn it. Kaia, your new colleague, texted you that the doorman would give you directions to get upstairs but you felt overwhelmed by the idea of walking through this elegant establishment and into an even more elegant engagement party, alone. You dropped your hand from the door knob and took two wobbly stiletto steps backwards and began considering acting as if you had an incident and couldn’t make it. Your mind was a revolving door of excuses but not a single one would ease the guilt of lying to your coworker who was going out of her way to be your friend. It was comical how guarded you became when you stepped into this country when the entire reason for uprooting your life was to blossom. Some things take time, you said internally, and took in a large breath before deciding that you had no choice but to go through the door regardless of your feelings. It would be horrible to bail on the one woman at your job who made sure you were okay and went out her way to help you - seeing her for every day the rest of the year after standing her up would be unforgivable in your eyes and no doubt, in hers too.

You hated to be that person but you genuinely didn’t want to walk through the restaurant alone. You stepped aside from the door to allow other guests to make their way in and out while you shot a quick text to Kaia to ask if she could send someone to help you find your way. You gnawed at the inside of your glossed lip and awaited her reply, hoping and praying that there would be other English speakers at this party. You held onto the gift bag of champagne with Kaia’s and her fiancée, Corey’s name engraved on it, italicized gold writing. It was a sweet but simple gift and the card inside said to wait to open the bottle until “what felt like the perfect time, to remember how far you have come.” and your well wishes were scribbled underneath. Your phone buzzed with a text from Kaia saying she sent someone down with no clear description of who to expect but at least it was someone.

You saw his hand before you saw the rest of him - tan, large, and covered in rings - each one silver but varying in size and shape. The color of his skin was golden underneath the full moon and the breeze created by the door opening drifted by bringing along the scent of a cologne you could not name, nor could probably even afford. The expensive smell of him matched his delicately balanced all-black outfit. Delicate brown eyes found yours as he stepped out of the door and closed it behind him. His previously straight face turned into a small smile as he looked at you and you suddenly felt as if you were staring way too hard at him. You dropped your gaze to your high heeled feet and brought your gift bag up in front of your face.

“Is this enough?” You asked awkwardly. The man replied in a smooth sentence of Spanish and you immediately were back to being nervous. Of course he spoke Spanish.

“Sorry, uh, english?”

“It’s perfect. Is there any space on the card?” He laughed, and took a peek inside of the gift bag. You were unable to place his accent but you were more focused on his gentle voice as he complimented the gift you customized for the couple.

“Space?”

“I forgot a gift.” He admitted with a boyish grin that immediately disarmed your nerves. He grabbed it out of your hands and turned to open the door and lead you through the dimly lit restaurant. “Could I put my name on yours?”

“Absolutely not!” You hissed with a laugh as you trailed him through the first floor of the restaurant.

It took all of three large steps across the room before you noticed that nearly all eyes were on the two of you - but especially on him. The air conditioning couldn’t ease the spikes of heat that traveled around your body and up your neck - you hated being the center of attention. It was the one thing you wanted to avoid and somehow Kaia sent you a person who was saying polite things to each person who stood to speak to him. You noticed the consistency between the Spanish and you were able to recognize a bit of the words: big fan, Barca, cannot believe it, el clasico, next match.

It was a familiar thing to stand patiently to the side as the man greeted each person attentively - you were transported back in time. Back to a time that you desperately clawed your way out of. So, although familiar, it was unnerving.

“Uh, ‘scuse me,” you interrupted and his eyes met yours, “what way is the party? I don’t want to interrupt.”

His gaze was intentionally focused on you, listening carefully as you asked him to point you to the festivities. If you stood here any longer, the way you did with your ex-boyfriend, you would begin to panic and that was the last thing you needed to happen.

“Oh, don’t let us take time away from your girlfriend. Go! Enjoy your night.” An older man demanded with a shooing motion and a parental smile. You didn’t have the chance to correct his mistake because the younger man simply thanked him and grabbed your own hand. You stumbled as he guided you through the room and you prayed that no one else was watching but when you turned to glance back at them, they were all staring.

“What's that all about?” You asked him inside the elevator. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and shrugged his shoulders, skirting around your question.

“Nuh uh, if you want to sign my card,” you saw a light flicker in his eyes and you knew you’d got him, “you have to explain all of that.”

“I’m Jules.” He said quietly and you noticed the way he held his breath as he extended a hand to for you to shake - the shake turned into a gentle but firm hold. You introduced yourself and he smiled again, making you feel like a schoolgirl on the playground being “tagged-you’re-it” by the boy you had a crush on.

“That doesn’t answer my question, though.” You let go of his arm and crossed yours. His eyebrows knitted together and he simply replied to your comment.

“I’m Jules Kounde.” He reiterated. You mimicked him, telling him your first and last name, still unsure of what he was getting at.

“I’m a footballer.” He said in a guarded tone. He was gaging your reaction and searching for your lightbulb moment, searching for an air of desperation to ooze off of you. Except it never did because you didn’t really know what it meant besides it made people swarm to him. The elevator dinged and he leaned off the wall, his body towered over yours and he blocked the door with his arm letting you walk out first. The ‘intimate’ party Kaia mentioned was anything but - on first glance, there had to be at least 100 people on the rooftop patio equipped with a full bar.

“Oh…” you said with a nod as he stood beside you, the both of you staring at the lively party underneath the stars and delicately placed string lights. You leaned into him and he bent his head down, “I don’t really know what that means.”

He laughed loudly and you couldn’t hold back the giggle.

“If I tell you, can I sign the card?” He asked.

You motioned with a “meh” motion of your hands.

“Maybe.”

“How can I turn it into a yes?” He whispered in your ear and suddenly the night air was cool compared to his breath on your skin. The smell of his cologne and the sheer heat of his breath was enough to make you want to cling to him all night and thankfully, you knew how you could.

“A glass of champagne and a full breakdown of who’s who during this party.”

——

NOW.

“What are you smiling at?” Kaia leaned over the coffee table attempting, and failing, to peek at your phone. Kaia knew you were smiling because of Jules. It was early and the morning sun was shining on your skin. She learned that you processed everything internally and only expressed what you felt was certain. Kaia learned that you and Jules were alike in that manner and suddenly, in many other ways too. Kaia wished she saw it sooner and Corey wished she hadn’t seen it at all: now he was hearing about Jules from Kaia, and hearing about you from Jules. It was never ending.

“It’s nothing.” You locked your phone and placed it face down. Jules texted you multiple times this morning in an attempt to escape the bet - He didn’t score a goal which meant he didn’t celebrate. So, he sent you five dollars (which bought your coffee ) and had to make you dinner. He was begging to be freed from the latter half - he couldn’t cook to save his life. Even though the notification of Jules bargaining with himself in your messages made you laugh, that wasn’t the only one that was making you smile. The first was the surprise that you and Jules planned for Kaia and Corey’s upcoming combined Bach and Bachelorette this weekend. Second, was Jules and his terrible negotiation skills. Finally, surprisingly, was Davi.

You weren’t going to divulge too much information, scared you might kill whatever was budding between you and Davi but the image of Davi’s smile flashed through your mind and you couldn’t help but let one form on your own face. You placed your elbows on the coffee table and cupped your chin, eyeing every bit of the teacher’s lounge to avoid Kaia’s amused expression. If you looked at her you knew you would spill all the tea, way too easily and way too soon. You didn’t have much to tell but Kaia wanted to know what the dating scene was like. Kaia and Corey had been together for years, so you indulged her with the good, but mostly bad, details of dating.

Kaia took a long sip of her coffee and you finally met her eyes that peered over the edge of the espresso she habitually drank. She was a polished, youthful woman. Her honey blonde hair framed her face which complemented her tanned skin and her eyes held a sparkle that was nothing short of mischievous. Her face was flush today and her cheeks were more red than usual. She looked tired but that came with planning an entire wedding while also wrangling kids as a full time job.

You laughed nervously and pulled the sleeves of your cardigan around your hands. You only had a few minutes to bring up the date but you needed validation, desperately. It wasn’t a bad idea to get to know Davi, right?

You assumed that when you became a teacher there would be an air of importance and sophistication when you sat down in the break room - talking about the kids, their work, the helicopter parents and so on. Yet the only thing that changed was your age because there you were, gripping coffee like a young high schooler about to admit that you like someone to your best friend.

“Okay, what is it?” Kaia gestured a “c’mon” motion with her hand. She sniffled a bit before taking another sip of her coffee.

“I think I’m going to a match.” You confessed and she wiggled her shoulders in excitement.

“Again?! How did Jules convince you to do that.” Kaia exclaimed loudly. The other teachers in the lounge eyed the two of you with distaste, as they usually did. The two of you were the youngest educators and were attached at the hip from the moment you met. Where there was one, there was the other. Especially with her class being across the hallway.

“He didn’t, Davi did. It’s nothing serious.” You assured her and a small part of yourself, too.

“No way. ” Kaia placed her palms on the table and slid in closely as if you had just told her the most outrageous thing. Her eyebrow curled at you and you suddenly realized you needed to clarify.

“You’re telling me that it isn’t serious but you are freely walking into a football match and planning to drink, again?” She leans forward before continuing, “Are you going to fuck him?”

“No!” You laughed. “That was not on my mind at all. I just wanna get to know him.”

“That's the lamest answer ever. Nothing serious, sure. Will it be serious enough that you tell Jules?”

“Why would I tell Jules, what do you mean?” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Jules plays with his cousin, see if you can find out more about him.”

“I don’t know….” You admitted, “I don’t want people in my business.”

Kaia eyed you and waited for you to be direct about who you didn’t want in your business but she wasn’t going to hold her breath for that. She knew you didn’t want Jules to know.

“Why?” She questioned

“That’s weird to ask Jules to ask his teammate about his cousin.” You said and began gathering your things to head to your class room. “Like I said, nothing serious and that’s what social media is for. You could find out everything you need to know.”

Kaia rolled her eyes but followed suit and grabbed her own bag but as she rose, she had to grab the table to steady herself. Her hand immediately went to her stomach and her entire neck turned red. She winced for a moment before standing up.

“Are you okay?” You said as you walked towards her and placed the back of your hand on her forehead.

“I’ve had this weird cold for a while. It’s probably the flu.” Kaia swatted your hand away and you poked at her side for that.

“Have you been to the doctor?”

“It’s a cold. Not a death sentence.”

“You are not allowed to be sick this weekend. If you don’t find a way to the damn doctor I’m going to drag you there.”

“And if you don’t find a way to get more information about Davi, I’ll do it myself.” She matched your snark and finished gathering her stuff. “There’s no way I’d miss my own bachelorette party.”

She looped her arm through yours and once again, you were sent backwards in time to when you were just a girl in highschool, walking with your best girlfriends and thinking of the future. The slightest thought of Kaia in her wedding dress sent a bubble of emotions through your chest and up into your throat, it was a daily occurrence but it never became easier. You loved her and Corey, dearly. You found family with them. Even though you weren’t in the wedding, which you were happy to support from the crowd, you had the liberty of working with Jules to throw their joint Bachelor and Bachelorette parties.

The process of planning, organizing, and meticulously preparing for all of the friends flying in was left to you. Despite yours, Kaia, and Corey’s protest, Jules was footing the bill. You had to lie more than once about charging his credit card. He admitted he didn’t check his accounts, because, “that’s what my adviser is for” so it was easy to get away without exposing yourself. He would scold you and actually throw a fit - a harsh criticism of the audacity of you to even begin to think of paying for anything when you were with him. After the criticism, you would be met with a dramatic sulk from Jules but it never lasted long. He never stayed mad at you, not for too long.

“I wouldn’t let you, either. Even if it’s to hold your hair back for a good ole puke and rally.”

“Ugh, god. Just the thought of alcohol makes me want to vomit.” She admitted with a little grimace. “If I get through the day, I’ll be good. Nothing a home remedy can’t fix.”

“It would be quicker if you went to the doctor, Kaia.” She unhooked her arm and stepped across the hall to her closed door. She bent down to unlock and waved you away once more. The shrill of the school bell sent a jolt of exhaustion through you - a weekend without rest was not the best experience but you couldn’t deny the fun you had. Internally, you agreed with Kaia. If you could make it through the day, it would smooth over.

“Yeah yeah.”

—

Candace slept naked and unbothered, her long limbs spilling out from underneath the covers. Candace barely stirred as he moved around the bedroom and got ready for the day. He never missed a run before going to training. It was an early morning for Jules but that was normal,

Jules thought that the sex would take his mind off of it all: the loss, the frustration, you. You and Davi, especially. That hadn't happened at all. Instead every kiss, every slight of Candace’s fingertips on his skin felt so wrong. Every whispered “I love you.” that fell from her lips while they had sex felt empty and slightly jarring. There was a visceral feeling of betrayal that he couldn’t shake. Was it a betrayal to you or a betrayal to Candace? In the midst of all the huffs and moans, Jules realized that he didn’t consider Candace’s feeling first - which was the most fucked up thing because there he was, deep inside her and not having an ounce of consideration for her feelings. Instead he was only thinking of you.

It shouldn’t have bothered Jules and he knew it enough to repeat it as a mantra but it still did. He could not pinpoint the issue with what he saw when he looked up at you, standing there in a Barca shirt and smiling at a man. Truthfully it was the same smile you gave everyone, but Jules felt it should’ve been reserved from him. Not Davi. As foolish as it was, he didn’t want to see you be happy with someone else. He didn’t want to watch from afar while your eyes crinkled as you laughed wholeheartedly or see you grab another man’s arm the way you did with his out of excitement, or to see the warm gaze you gave him with your undivided attention - your soft eyes were a window into your soul and he wanted to be the one who discovered all of you. He didn’t want to share that. When it came to you, there was no sharing. Jules realized half way through his run, that he couldn’t fight the fact he truly and madly wanted you. As he approached the steps back to his place and skimmed over a text from Candace saying she made it back home, he opened the thread and texted you - opting to tell you that you were being taken to dinner instead of having a home cooked meal.

Jules: I leave for fashion week tomorrow but I’ll be back Thursday evening. Want to do dinner tonight?

You: That works. What time?

Jules: I’ll pick you up

You: why? then you’d have to bring me home, too.

Jules: Trust me

You: when you say trust me I immediately can’t, what are we doing instead of dinner?

Jules: Going to dinner at your favorite spot

You: Jules!! You didn’t have to do that 🥺

The thought of you smiling made his heart skip a beat as he began to respond but saw those three dots appear on the screen, so he waited.

You: you still have to cook for me eventually

—

You had all of an hour to change and sit on the couch before Jules impatiently rang your doorbell and placed you in a long overdue hug. Jules inhaled a deep before stepping away with a sigh, his eyes scanning your outfit with a tut. It wasn’t a new dress but it was new to him. You felt a wave of insecurity run through you as you crossed one foot over the other and placed your hands on your hips. Jules was a fashion snob but you cared enough about looking presentable and feeling good. It was hard to tell if that fit into Jules expertise half the time and right now you didn’t want to be told that this cute dress wasn’t the right outfit.

“What?”

“Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I am! All I need is my shoes.”

“You’re going to make us late, oh mon dieu.” Jules' accent was thick when he spoke French and it was a pleasure to hear. There were so many things about him that you admired and simply adored - but one of those things you could appreciate the most was his incredible ability to switch between multiple languages.

“Just give me a second, seriously. Don’t be so dramatic.” You turned on your heels and did a small jog across your apartment and turned the corner. Jules’ eyes trailed the length of your legs all the way up to your ass and back down again with a feverish frustration. He groaned and forced himself to think of anything other than your dress or how the bottom of it reached his favorite part of your body: the sculpted by God himself shape of your muscular, brown thighs and how it supported your natural, large, and ever so tempting to touch, ass. His mind wondered what your ass would feel like, knowing that with the size of his hands he could palm both cheeks easily. The same ease he would have lifting you up and carrying you across any distance if you locked your legs around him, all while palming and squeezing every part of your ass. If he was given the opportunity, he would savor it. Jules would leave you satisfied, but he would leave you wanting more. Words failed him more than a few times in his life but his actions never did - no woman could say he was a selfish lover in bed. He took pride in everything and every girl he did. There were no words to describe how much pride he took in you without even having a taste of you yet.

Jules was forcefully thrown back into the reality of standing on your foyer, waiting on you. There was an echo of thuds, which he knew to be shoes, and a yell from you promising to be ready soon. He rolled his eyes but the brightening screen of your cell phone caught his attention. Your YSL bag was sitting atop the small table with all of the contents strewn around it, the phone was among the mess. He collected each item carefully, placing it in your bag. It was the least Jules could do to speed up the process, he thought. It wasn’t at all because he wanted an excuse to look at your phone - he wasn’t that kind of guy, he thought to himself as he picked up the phone and read the Instagram message.

thatsdavif: Thanks for Friday, I had fun! 😘

“Ready.” You announced with a satisfying spin on the balls of your heels. Jules' head whipped up and nodded. His demeanor changed drastically in the last five minutes you saw him and he said nothing as he handed you the now packed purse. You thanked him for getting your things and thanked him for opening your door but he remained silent.

Each attempt to strike up a conversation failed and you weren’t sure how dinner was going to go considering you had to hash out a few more details for the trip this weekend. You sighed aloud, not caring that he would be aware of your annoyance. As wise as he was, Jules still was a man who could act like a little boy. You weren’t the type to force a man to open his mouth and you weren’t starting now. Instead of talking, you resorted to scrolling through your social media feed and then checked your messages. You awed at the photos that Davi sent you and liked the message of his gratitude. You recommended a few spots that were tourist friendly and a few hidden gems of the city. The photos of his adventures made you crave the upcoming trip even more.

youruser: I can’t wait for the next match. I think I finally know all the chants lol

—

Dinner was awkward but you didn’t allow you to not indulge in the delectable food. If he wasn’t going to address whatever bothered him, Jules could stay mad. When you pushed him, he immediately pulled away. So you stopped doing so. You listened carefully as the waitress told you about the soup of the day and about the wine that would be paired with your meal. It all sounded amazing and smelled it, too. Jules thanked the waitress with a small smile and then focused his attention on nothing at all while fidgeting with his hair.

“Jules.” You said, gently but with a stern undertone. “Did I do something? Was it because I was late?”

“No, no.” A lie, a lie, he thought. “Stress, that’s all.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m being so rude.”

“It’s okay, we all have those days. At least you have some time off.”

“Can I be honest? I’ve never been so ready to get away from work before. I’m just so exhausted.”

He laughed sheepishly then smiled at you and you smiled back, knowing he would have the time of his life at the resort.

“Just think about it: endless drinks, the pool, the yacht and a surprise from moi.”

“A surprise? What did you do?”

“That defeats the point of the surprise.” You reminded him with a straight face.

He began to argue but was cut off by a sudden shrill of his phone ringing - it was Candace. All of the energy you brought into him seemed deflated in an instant. He looked at you for a moment and you nodded to let him know you understood. There was a distinct pain in your chest seeing her name, being reminded of her. You couldn’t hate the girl even if you tried. But, it was hard to like someone who held onto the same man as you and with more access than you will ever have. Jules’ previous relationships were not on your mind as much as this particular one was. It was hard to place the emotion but it was still there, nonetheless.

“I’ll be back,” he said to you and he stood up and began speaking in hurried Spanish.

You fiddled with the menu aimlessly and checked the time. You examined your nails and reread each possible combination of the dish you were considering as your next course. There was an unmistakable chill in the air, making you rub at your bare arms as you checked over your shoulder to find your friend. He was pacing slowly but his hands were animated as he spoke. A sigh escaped your mouth as your gazed returned to the table when a waving hand caught you midway.

Who was that? You thought as you politely waved back. She stood, placing her napkin on the table and sauntered long strides over to you. The table of girls eyed you curiously - it was the WAGs. The wives and girlfriends of Jules' teammates, the ones from the suite during El Clasico. For a moment your heart stopped. You scanned the group of them, hoping and praying that you didn’t see Candace’s face. You didn’t, thankfully. But you were met with judgemental glares, dismissive looks, and a literal head shake. Oh my fucking god, you panicked.

“I swear you get prettier and prettier every single time I see you mija.” Inĩgos’s wife complimented. You accepted her hug and tucked your hair behind your ears before clasping your hands behind your back.

“Thank you, same to you. You look stunning.”

It was true. When you saw her last she mentioned that she had a baby only a few weeks prior. You couldn’t tell then and surely couldn’t tell now.

“I thought you were Candace for a split second, but I’d recognize you from a mile away. What are you up to?” Her smile was genuine and she was as sweet as can be but in your mind, her loyalty lies with Candace and this whole thing looked terrible. You were 75% sure Candace knew you were at dinner with Jules but no one else knew that. No one knew how innocent it was - they didn’t know your relationship with Jules.

“Just eating with our friends.”

“Oh? What friends?”

“No one that you know but he’s close with Jules and I work with his wife.”

“The blonde girl, right? Kaia?”

“Uh…yeah, her.” You bit your lip, unsure of where to take the conversation. It was painfully silent before she spoke again.

“I hope they make it in time. This kind of place is a real pain in the ass when it comes to timing. They charge an arm and a leg for cancellations.” She whispered as if you and Jules weren’t seated at a small table for two. There was no way anyone else was at your dinner party, she was allowing you to save face.

“I bet, I should probably go check and see where they are now. It was good to see you again.” You hugged her once more and nearly tripped over your own heels to get to the ladies room.

—

“Candace, please calm down.”

“Do not tell me to calm down. Are you fucking her?” She yelled once more, her voice shrill and almost deafening in Jules’ ear.

“No, Candace.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re such a liar.” She spat. Jules tilted his head back and ran a palm down his face with an exasperated sigh.

“Are you going to believe what you saw or are you going to believe what I’m telling you?” He countered. Jules knew how it looked and how it sounded but he was being honest. Jules had never slept with you.

“Do you know how embarrassing this is?”

“What are you going on about, Candace? I told you I was going to dinner with a friend.”

“You didn’t say you were going to dinner with her!”

“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s the same thing.”

“No it’s not. Not when you are so obvious about wanting to fuck her.” His heart stopped for a moment but she continued, “not only are you a liar you aren’t even a good one.”

“I have never slept with her.” He reiterated through a clenched jaw.

“Right and my names Lionel Messi and I won a World Cup. Fuck you.” She spat before hanging up. Jules went back into the restaurant with as straight of a face as he could manage - he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or embarrassed or upset. He rubbed at his jaw and was surprised to see the table empty as he pulled out his chair. He scanned the restaurant to see where you could have gone but then he saw exactly what sparked Candace’s meltdown. The group of girls at the table against the wall, tucked into a more secluded corner of the dining room who were watching him like a hawk.

You tried to fight the tears but they still came. You dotted away at your tear ducts, trying to cry silently and not mess up your makeup in the process. Luckily, there was a powder room and then the actual stalls. You settled yourself into the one furthest stalls away from the door that was not the handicapped accessible stall. You would never be able to show your face again if they saw you bawling like this. Even though it was innocent, it still looked guilty. You still felt guilty. You didn’t care what they had to say but you did care if the word got around about you. As soon as you found an ounce of comfort in the team’s graces, you were losing it. Any hope of getting to know more about Davi vanished. Had you ruined your chance before you even got one?

Your phone rang incessantly from your purse and you wiped your tears without even checking to see who was calling you.

“Hello?” You sniffled into the receiver.

“Oh my god are you crying?” Kaia yelled and you wished you hid it better. “You can’t cry right now because I’m crying right now.” She insisted.

“Why are you crying?”

“Please tell me why you’re crying or else I’m going to freak out.

“Kaia!”

“What?!”

“What the hell is going on? Are you okay, is Corey?”

“Where are you, I don’t know what to do!”

“Kaia, please take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on. I’m just having dinner, it’s nothing.”

“I took a pregnancy test.” She whispered. Your mouth flew open and you could hear her shushing you.

“Oh my god. Is it positive?”

“I can’t look at it. I’m too scared. You need to come over here right now.” You pulled the phone away from your head and looked at the time - it was late but you could still get some decent rest if you convinced Jules to leave at this instant.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there soon.” You wiped at your face, cleaned up your mascara, and washed your hands before approaching the door. You forced yourself to not think about how it could look with you storming out the bathroom the way you were but Kaia was more important than anyone’s opinion. She sounded so unsure and that was unnerving to you - your head strong and assuring friend was falling to pieces over a piece of plastic that she was too scared to flip over. Facing your reality was nothing compared to hers.

You told Jules that you needed to go to Kaia’s apartment, immediately. Majority of the time she was at Corey’s but the fact that you asked to be taken to her place was enough for Jules to know something serious was going on. He handed you the keys and told you he’d meet you after he paid for the portion of the meal you guys actually got to enjoy together.

You were halfway to Kaia’s when Jules’ hot and heavy hand landed on your bouncing leg, restricting you from the habitual bouncing you were doing. His other hand was doing all the work as he turned the wheel, the veins in his forearm flexing with each movement of his wrist. You sighed out an apology

“Everything will be okay, yeah?” He said as he slowed to stop at an intersection. Jules leaned over to get a better look at you. You made yourself nod but your heart was thumping so hard you were scared he could hear it. Jules' nails were cut low and manicured and where you used to tease him about it, you were now thankful because his grip was so strong. His grip tightened and he asked, “Say it with me.” Jules’ eyes were locked on yours and for a brief moment, you thought his eyes dropped to your lips.

“Yeah, it’s all going to be okay.”

“Good.” He patted your thigh and he took his hand away and placed it on the wheel as if it wasn’t ever on you at all. As if his hand hadn’t lit the match to an absolutely insane of validation to daydreams you suppressed. It was like taking another piece of your sanity along with it.

“I’m sorry about dinner.” You said reaching for the door handle but Jules was already out of the car and moving to open your door.

“It’s fine.” He replied.

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you planned for your night to go.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll pay you back for driving me across town.” You mumbled and leaned over the seat to grab your purse and step out of the car. Jules closed the door once you were firmly planted on both feet in front of him, grabbing your fidgeting hands into his own.

“I just said, it’s okay.” He said with a deep resonance that made you hot all over. You couldn’t even maintain eye contact with him but he continued on, unphased by it. “Don’t make me repeat myself. It’s always fine. Especially when it comes to you.”

You squeaked out an “okay” and Jules pulled you in for a hug before shrugging off his coat and putting on your shoulders. He placed a gentle but quick kiss on your forehead before reminding you to text him to keep him updated. You were barely up the drive way before Kaia opened the door and practically fell over trying to get you inside quickly.

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