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pensat-i-fet · 1 year

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Our special day (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**I got this request to write about the reader and Rúben going to a wedding and reminiscing about their own. Very fluffy and cute, of course. And I was looking forward to writing it but when I started, I could only imagine my best friend that will get married soon as the bride in this story and…I loved that 🥺🥰 I hope you all have a good time reading it ❤️**

Word count: 1808

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When Rúben went back to your hotel room to check you were ready to leave, he stared at you for a whole minute before making his presence felt.

“That’s really rude of you, you know?”

“What?”, you said, turning to look at him.

“No one is supposed to look better than the bride. And you already broke that rule”.

You laughed at his comment. “Well, she chose the dress so she probably won’t mind. Besides, the groom will only have eyes for her”.

“Same as I only have eyes for you”.

He hugged you from behind, staring at how you two looked in the mirror. You still needed to give the finishing touches to your hair and make-up, but didn’t mind him being so clingy.

“I’m not happy about you not sitting with me at the church”.

“I’m a bridesmaid, Rúben. I have to be with the bride”.

“But I’ll miss you. I guess at least I get to stare at you without looking like a creep. You’ll be literally next to the people who get married”.

“I think being married helps you avoid looking creepy when you stare at me”.

Rúben just hugged you tighter. This day brought back so many memories. He couldn’t stop thinking about it and wondered if you were feeling the same.

“I have to go see the bride. She’s probably so nervous!”

“Were you nervous before our wedding?”

“No. I have you wrapped around my finger. I knew you’d show up”.

And you weren’t lying.

Once the bride was ready, you joined the other bridesmaids on your way to the very nervous groom. Your friends were absolutely adorable. Also, they had been dating since they were babies, so it was very emotional for you to see them finally getting married. You knew they had been dreaming of this moment for so long.

On the way to the altar, you spotted Rúben sitting with other of your friends. And when he saw you, you stuck your tongue out to him. He laughed, loving your goofy side, and blew you a kiss.

The first notes of the wedding march were played and you already felt tears in your eyes. All the other bridesmaids, your best friends, were feeling the same way.

And whenever you looked back at Rúben, you saw he had kept his promise of just staring at you. He was so silly.

The ceremony was very emotional and once it was over, you all got out of the church to say goodbye to the bride and groom for a little bit. You were still waving at their car when you noticed strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“They looked so happy”, he said.

“I know…oh crap, I’m getting emotional again”.

“I think we looked even happier on our wedding day”.

“Rúben! You’re not helping”.

He laughed and turned you to face him. He used his thumbs to clean the little tears without messing up your make-up too much.

"We are actually the reason this wedding happened".

"How?"

"The bride caught your bouquet at our wedding".

"Well, she was already engaged so that might have helped too. Who caught it today?"

"A little girl. She was so excited but I'm afraid she'll have to wait a little longer to get her own wedding".

You took Rúben's hand and walked to your car so you could drive to where the reception was going to be held.

"You won't believe everything we did to decorate the venue", you told Rúben while you took him inside to see it. No one was supposed to be there yet.

He kept looking at all the little details and then you got to the photo wall.

"It's not the classiest or whatever but who cares. We just knew she'd love it".

Rúben looked at every photo. From your group of friends on school trips to the hen party you organized a couple of months ago. Your whole friendship was documented there. And then he saw one photo that he could have recognised anywhere. One you had at your own house.

"I love this photo".

It was one taken at your wedding. It was you and your bridesmaids hugging Rúben while he laughed.

"You see it every day".

"Doesn't make me love it less".

"You see me every day".

"Doesn't make me love you less either".

Your kiss was interrupted by one of the waiters who got there to keep getting things ready.

"Sorry".

"Don't be", you told the poor guy, "we'll let you get to work. Everything looks perfect. They are going to love it".

Neither you nor Rúben liked to get too full eating all the little bites of food that were served before the main meals. But you still walked around the venue chatting with everyone.

"Oh, you served these at your wedding", said one of your friends, grabbing a pastry from a plate. "These are so good".

"What is that? I don't remember the menu we picked".

"Salmon pastries, you have to try one".

Rúben accepted one while you reminded your friend you didn't like salmon.

"It's really good. Is it the same company doing the food today?"

"Yes, it should be good".

Everyone loved your wedding, so you had given the info of all the people hired to your friend so she could get them to work for her special day too. And you were so glad to see they were doing a fantastic job again.

All of the bridesmaids, except for one, were already married. The first one to tie the knot had started the tradition of getting the most gorgeous fake flower bouquets made for every couple attending their wedding that was engaged. You were sad thinking you weren't going to get yours, since your engagement hadn't been made public before attending the wedding where you should have been given one. But your friend waited until everyone was distracted to give you yours.

And now it was the bride's turn to continue the tradition. You had given her hers at your wedding.

She moved around the tables and then didn't walk past yours. That's odd.

"For you", she said, giving the bouquet to the only unmarried friend with a wink.

You all realised quickly she had been waiting to tell you the news now and got up to go hug her, causing everyone to stare at the commotion you were creating.

"What are you thinking about?", you asked Rúben when you sat down next to him to continue eating.

"Our wedding. I can't help but go back to all those memories".

"Well, those are good memories, right?", you laughed. "I'm thinking about it too. And about all the other weddings we've had in our friend group".

Rúben used two fingers to hold your chin so you would be looking at him. He kissed you quickly and stayed close to you so he could whisper.

"Can we get married again?"

That made you laugh. You had only gotten married 14 months ago.

"Maybe wait a little longer so we can justify the over the top behaviour".

The food was eaten and then the bride and groom cut the cake.

"Remember cake gate?", asked Rúben making you choke on the piece of cake you were eating.

"Stop! You can't mention that everytime I eat cake or one day I'll really choke".

"It's a funny memory".

"Wasn't funny when it happened".

The day before a match, you and Rúben had to go taste the menu for your wedding. And when it came to the cakes…there were so many options. And you wanted to give all of them a fair try. Rúben, always wanting to be helpful, offered to try all of them but…he wasn't as used to consuming so much sugar as you were. And the result was him having some…digestive issues at the match.

You noticed him getting up when more people started to join the happy couple on the dancefloor.

"Let's show them how it's done", he said, offering a hand that you took.

Ever since your wedding, you had gotten into the habit of dancing around the house as if it was your first dance as a married couple again.

You put your arms around his neck while his hands sat on your hips.

"You've got that thinking look on your face again".

"Just thinking about our wedding dance. My dad took no time to steal my bride once the song was over".

"I remember my mum doing something similar", you giggled.

"And I was thinking that it was right at this moment that I could truly relax and just enjoy the day. The worst that could happen was an uncle drinking too much. But everything had gone well".

You put your head on his shoulder, turned to look at him. "I was pretty nervous the whole time too. You know I like to be more hands on to make sure everything is done properly".

"We have that in common, yes".

You both laughed and kept dancing. You sometimes got to see glances of your friends dancing and seeing the way they smiled at each other made you happier than you could explain.

"But being here allowed me to go back to the whole wedding and appreciate it even more".

"How so?", you asked, curious.

"It's like, even if I was nervous, I still can remember every second of the day. And now I know nothing will go wrong, I can just think about how perfect everything was".

"It was pretty perfect", you agreed, big smile on your face.

"I remember when you got to the church and I couldn't believe people were right about brides being even more beautiful on that day. I remember you joking about how sweaty my hand was. I remember your vows, that were so much better than mine".

"I loved yours".

"Thanks, I worked hard on them and then messed up".

You kissed him before putting your head on his shoulder again.

"What else do you remember?"

"Getting photos taken. Coming back to our friends and family and how loud your friends cheered", that got another laugh from you. "Cutting the cake, the dancing…all of it".

"Good memories to have".

When the song ended, you noticed people moving around you and then the groom was right by your side.

"Can I steal her for one dance?"

"Sure, where is your bride?"

"My dad got there first, sorry".

Rúben laughed. "That sounds familiar".

Your friend and you started to dance to the new song, which was a bit more upbeat.

"I'll be stealing your wife next, just so you know".

"She's looking forward to it".

You smiled at him. He had also been your friend for so long. "Good day?"

"I wouldn't change a single thing".

Like you wouldn't have changed a thing from your special day either.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fluff #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff

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mamawasatesttube · 10 months

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What was Cassie and Cissie’s wedding like in ur fic universe?

GOD this is such a good question they deserve an actual fic about it at some point but i don't know when i'll get there but augh!!!

they are THE butch/femme couple of all time. cissie is in a gorgeous dress (strapless and backless of course, we can't have cassie knowing how to put words into sentences properly on her wedding day); cassie's in a neatly-tailored tux, but she's doing that insanely hot thing where she's got the jacket over a real low cut top and a necklace instead of a button-down under it (turnabout is fair play, cissie).

kon is cassie's Dude Of Honor; anita is cissie's maid of honor!

cassie cries when cissie reads her vows. cissie doesn't, but she does gets so giddy she starts bouncing on her feet instead.

bart catches the bouquet.

bart immediately goes WAIT. i certainly don't want to get married next boo!! KON HERE TAKE THIS QUICK--

there are a bunch of cissie's civilian friends also there. cassie's identity is public (cissie's friends screamed when cissie was like yeaahhh so i'm dating. uh. you know wonder girl?) but lots of the other heroes' in attendance are not. one of cissie's friends points at tim like "so... who is that guy???" and cissie is like uhhhh don't worry about it!

kon also actually cries during the ceremony (they've grown up!!! his friends that he's known his whole life!!!! they're getting married!!! waaaaaa) but vehemently denies this

their first dance is a very elegant waltz that's fairly slow and not too elaborate because they both knew they'd need to factor in the way they'd be so busy staring at each other in awe

donna gives a speech that's overall very sweet and genuine but also does roast cassie for zapping herself with her own lasso once because cissie texted her and she was literally tripping over herself to get her phone out as fast as possible.

cissie gets a little tipsy on champagne at the reception and decides that cassie needs to carry her around for the rest of the night. ten minutes later she's like well okay that was a little silly of me but cassie's like nope i can't hear you i'm not putting you down :]

instead of a Just Married™ car to drive away in, cassie simply sweeps her into her arms and flies them away at the end of the night <3

#there is probably more to be said on the topic but i will end it here for now :)#cissiecassie #sotm #cissie #cassie

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marvelmusing · 1 year

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Bad Influence

Here’s a random modern!darklina x fem!reader smutty fic idea and drabble which I’m blaming @becauseicantthinkwritings for (you wanted to hear my ideas so here’s one of my favourites)

Warnings [18+]: dom!aleksander, brat!alina, good girl!reader, daddy kink, spanking, fingering, praise kink, mild degradation, smidge of pain kink, dodgy power dynamics if you think really hard amount it

Imagine:

Personal assistant!reader who works for CEO!Aleksander. One day he asks you to help his wife with some clothes shopping. Alina is gorgeous and you spend the whole day staring at her while she shows you different outfits. Sometimes she asks you to help with buttons and zips, and you’re dying to touch her. Then you stop at a lingerie shop, and she coaxes you into joining her as she tries on pieces. She touches and teases you whilst pretending to admire the fabric of whatever piece you’re wearing and it’s driving you insane. Then she takes some photos of the two of you, wearing the lingerie, in a few different poses. She sends them to Aleksander whilst he’s at work, prompting him into ringing his driver to take him to pick the two of you up.

Maybe he spanks you on the car ride home.

“I thought you were a good girl, milaya.” He says as you squirm on his lap.

Your skirt is bunched up over your hips, panties hanging around your ankles as you kick your feet slightly to distract yourself from his hand as it lands against your backside once again.

“I thought you might be able to keep my Alina in line.”

Another smack and you whimper. His wedding ring stings delightfully as it meets your skin.

“I thought you might be a good influence for her. But it turns out you’re a needy little slut just like her, aren’t you?”

“No.” You whine petulantly.

Aleksander breathes out a sharp laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking into a dark smirk.

“No?”

His long fingers trace through your soaked and sticky folds, drawing a loud whine from you.

“Tell me what this is then.” Aleksander says, holding his wet fingers in front of your face, and your entire body feels as though it’s on fire. “Because only needy little sluts get wet when daddy spanks them.”

Tears well in your eyes, and you know he expects an answer - the right answer. The soft cheeks of your ass are already sore, your nipples are painfully hard, and your whole body is flushed with embarrassment.

You settle on the demeaning truth, hiding your face as you admit,

“I’m wet, daddy.”

“Clever girl.” He coos, petting your back as he continues to humiliate you. “And why is that?”

Another whimper, and your face burns.

“Because I’m a needy little slut.”

He hums, circling the pad of his finger over your dripping cunt.

“Good girl.” His praise has you keening, a hopeful little sound blooming from the back of your throat, and he smiles indulgently down at you. “Yes milaya, you’re still my good girl.”

His gaze slides over to where Alina is sitting across from you, eyes wide and lips puckered into a pout. Aleksander knows she’s soaking through her panties at the sight of you being punished.

“Alina is a little brat.” He says pointedly, his eyes never leaving hers as he continues to pet your dripping entrance. “But you’re my good girl, and I know the only way to tempt you into misbehaving like that would be if she got you so needy you stopped thinking.”

His degrading words are partially to urge you further into that needy submissive headspace, and partially to rile up Alina, knowing that she isn’t allowed to touch herself. She shifts in her seat, her brows furrowed with need as Aleksander continues talking to you.

“Because we all know that silly little head of yours soon starts leaking out of your cunt when you get needy.”

You nod blindly in agreement.

Aleksander is truly magnificent when he’s stern, but you hate the idea of being in trouble or disappointing him. So when Alina misbehaves, a fire burns deep in your core, and right now, as Aleksander assures you that you’re his good girl as a means to scold Alina, your arousal is a raging inferno.

He slides a finger inside you, to the very last knuckle, and Alina whines louder than you do.

Aleksander smirks.

He loves when she’s a bad influence on you.

#modern!darklina x reader #darklina x reader #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #darklina x reader smut #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader

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anintrovertwriter · 10 months

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Wedding reception, Jadon Sancho Imagine

Wedding reception , Jadon Sancho

I was getting ready for my sister’s wedding anniversary party. We were lucky to have the weather in our favor : we had to be careful with the weather, even in July.

I opted for a long dress and wedge espadrilles, that suited the bohemian theme and I thought it would suit the occasion.

I was really looking forward to the party since it was one of the rare occasions for me to do such familiar events and even more special because Jadon will accompany me. It was before the start of the season so he was staying with me in my country and took him in my luggages as I joked back at the airport.

“ Oh my days you look amazing baby !” I heard him saying while coming into the bathroom.

“ Give me a twirl” He shot his hand at me to take it and did what he wanted, with him making me turn and we somehow ended up chest to chest. I looked up to him and for once, our height difference wasn't that bad because of the heels I've been wearing.

“ Don’t distract me love”

“ I’m not doing anything ! “ He said, mimicking surrender with his hands but they quickly found their way back around my body.

“ Stop looping at me like that !”

“ Can’t help it, you’re so beautiful” I blushed, still not getting used to his compliments, even after months and months of dating.

“Don’t you dare !” I warned him as I saw him try to play with the straps of my dress, which made him laugh, playful as he always is.

We managed to get ready and came to my sister’s house a little bit late because I had to change shoes in order to drive, and because, let’s be honest, we are always late. Jadon wanted to drive but I took the rare opportunity to do it, since I wasn’t driving much in Manchester, because of the driving side. I wasn’t still used to it, and it made loads of funny moments with Jadon, who was waiting for me next to the car, surprised at me going the wrong way.

He placed his hand on my thigh, and I tried my best not to be distracted but he seemed to understand and did not move it, but let it there the entire ride. It was so reassuring,to sense his presence.

Once we got there, he was quick to open my door, and held my hand in the path, which was not ideal to walk in with such heels.

“ Your entire family will be there ?”

“ Yes.”

I saw him gulp, a clear sign of apprehension coming from him.

“ Baby, you met them already !”

“ I know but”

“ No buts ! I’ve met your family way more than you with mine and I'm still alive !”

“ Of course they love you !”

“ And mine loves you too ! “

“ Your grandma not so much….”

“ It’s because of the tattoos, she’s not fond of them. But I do, so don”t think about it ! And she loves you silly.”

As I was talking, my hand that was not gripped to his , came to stop him going further.

“ They all love you because you love me, and I you, alright ?”

He nodded and I kissed him. He cupped my cheeks to deepen the kiss.

It could have been more heated but I held down, so close to my family. He saw my flustered face.

“ That’s the effect I have on you !” He joked

“ 100% true. Have you seen yourself ?”

He was the most handsome man alive, I swear. Even with joggers, or especially with joggers, he was handsome. But here, with a linen shirt and jeans, he was to die for.

I had to restrain myself and not spend the night staring and kissing him, but we were interrupted by the sound of giggles and my name being called.

We both turned around to see my niece and nephew running in our directions. I squatted down to hold them in my arms. They were the people I loved most, alongside Jadon of course. Jadon , who was watching the scene, had a huge smile plastered on his face looking at her girlfriend kissing and holding tight her niece and nephew. Suddenly he felt broody and couldn’t help himself picture their future together surrounded by their kids.

I got up, held the kids by the hands and look at Jadon

“ What ?”

“ Nothing” I wasn’t convinced but couldn’t respond with the kids leading us to my sister, who was greeting the guests.

We went to say hi to everyone I knew. I didn’t let go of Jadon’s hand even when I was being hugged by my family. I knew how it felt to be the “stranger” in the room, the only one who didn’t speak the language fluently, so I did my best to keep him close to me the entire evening.

My aunt asked us for a photo. Jadon took one step aside but my aunt and I were quick to grab him back.

“ Since when you don’t want to take a picture ?”

“ I thought it would be you only.”

“ Silly you’re part of the family.”

It was so cute to see his flustered cheeks in the picture.

“ Now you two” said my aunt in my language, which Jadon didn’t entirely understand.

“ She wants to take us two.”

“ Oh, sure.”

He grabbed me by the waist to hold me closer. I briefly looked at him to see his joyful smile, placed a peck on his lips before looking at the camera.

When I received the pictures, we were surprised to see she took pictures of us looking at each other and kissing. The pictures were so beautiful, and reflected the love we shared.

“ I love them.” I said

“ And I love you.”

“ I love you.” I responded. And everytime we said those three words, it was the same : so magical.

It seemed like the moment was well chosen to declare our love because some slow music was being played. First for my sister and her husband, and then for everyone who wanted to dance.

I knew he will take me on the dancefloor, but I melted seeing him switching position so he could look at me in the eye before casually saying

“ Would you like to dance princess ?”

I happily nodded as he led me to where other couples were dancing, such as my parents or other family members. We went outside and started to dance, or more slow dance, our bodies getting along with the slow melody.

It felt so nice, being here, surrounded by the people I love, and with my favorite person in the world.

“ I’m glad I came. “

“ See ! I told you !”

“ I was just a little bit nervous. But I really looked forward to come.”

“ And I’m so happy you could be there with me. It’s so nice to see you with my family.”

“ Now I understand how hard it could be for you, being around “foreigners” and speaking another language all the time. I’m so thankful and proud of you.”

I was not prepared for such a declaration from him, and I smiled.

He didn’t give me the time to respond and made me twirl, so my back was pressed against his chest.

“ You look so stunning I swear my heart missed a beat.”

“ Well that’s the effect you do to me everyday.”

He laughed, like a sweet melody right in his ears.

“ Well, same here baby. You don’t know how crazy I am about you.”

I switched positions to face him again, and we continued to dance slowly. I saw my mom looking at us and shot me a wink, all smiles.

And we suddenly were interrupted by two pairs of hands taping against us.

We looked down to see my niece and nephew.

“ Hey babies ! Do you wanna dance?” I asked in my language, and I was right asking this. That’s what they came after all.

“ They want to dance with us.” I translated to him, because I saw his questioning look.

I grabbed my nephew’s hands to take him in my arms, and began to make him twirl, his laugh resonating in the dancefloor. And with the other hand I took my niece’s to dance with them two. It was not easy but we had a good time.. Jadon stood aside, and I felt sorry for a second but he looked at me as a way to say “ Continue, don’t mind me.”

The next dance came and it was a rocky one, which we danced well and had a lot of fun. We could have done a lot more, but we were exhausted with our moves. They came with their parents’ table to drink, meanwhile Jadon and I returned to our seats.

I saw his look.

“ What ?”

“ What what ?”

“ Why are you looking at me like that ? Am I all sweaty for my dance ?”

“ No, he said, smiling. It’s just seeing you with the little ones.”

“ And ?”

“ You beamed. And it’s freaking hot and cute.”

“ Oh, is my baby being all broody?” I asked in a playful tone.

“ Don’t you ?”

“ It happens….. a lot”

He laughed and held my hand under the table.

“ Just imagine us with a mini-you and a mini-me.”

“ Our family.”

And here I was again, dreaming once more about us surrounded by our kids.

We were smiling like two idiots, and let’s be honest like two lovesick puppies.

It was like the moment was so right, because champagne was served.

“ To love, to family!” I said.

“ To us” Jadon said, looking straight into my eyes.

And we kissed, after toasting to our future, but because we were smiling, it was a bit messy.

“ I love you angel” he said, against my lips.

I pecked his lips before saying “ I love you too baby.”

#jadon sancho blurb #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho #jadon sancho fluff #jadon sancho x reader

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cartoonkoopalings · 1 year

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UPDATED LOOKS 3

Cheatsy koopa: The sneakiest out of the koopalings, the Emperor of Eavesdropping, the king of getting out of chores, Cheatsy Koopa! He still does his job of spying on the Mario brothers with his little group of friends that consist of Pyre a splorch from the sprixie kingdom who also happens to be his boyfriend, a dud bobomb , a Boo named casp and a lone shyguy. He has a thing for roller skating and recently took up lava boarding which pure helps with the latter. Him and bigmouth still go out to ruins in Darkland to find artifacts that might help in Kingdads schemes. He's sustained quiet a few scars over the years from the different failed plans,

Pyre: A splorch that came to darkland with Jack and a multitude of POW-ups through a glitched clear pipe from the sprixie kingdom. Not much is known about him other than he is made of lava and eats magic. He had a bit of an incident at Boom and Kooky's wedding. The larger gaunt almost skeletal like form is when his core hungers for magic. He spent a month before the wedding stewing in his own hunger before it took hold. But he's chill now thanks to both jack and Cheatsy who managed to get him calm before he did more damage to the castle. As of late he'd gone for a more shirtless look, Cheatsy calls him his lava lamp. He tends to take his core out when he and Cheatsy go lava boarding, he's the one pulling the board while he swims through the lava.

Hop Koopa: the youngest out of the Brat pack being just a few minutes younger than his brother Hip, he is already taller than his brother despite being almost identical as young children. Now a teen he hopes to find his own identity, he now has an interest in science thanks to a certain science project he and hip made in school because of this, hop hangs out with Kooky in his lab as his older brothers assistant. Hop is also trans (ftm) and came out to his family at 10. As kooky once answered, "due to dimensional similarities, Hop will probably be as tall as me before he's 20" well said prediction is coming true, minus the added height of his palm tree he's already 5'9" and still growing. He still trains his chain chomps with his brother Hip.

Hip Koopa: the shortest and one of the younger kids out of the family, Hip has a lovely for the circus and all things fun and silly, he also loves winter and has a bad habit of donning a penguin suit POW-up and pelting unsuspecting passerby with snowballs...friend or foe, family or random folks, nobody is safe from this. The music from snow mountain seems to follow him when he gets like this. Fun fact thanks to Cheatsy, both him and Hop know how to drive a real-world car, and have visited Miami in the past .....they don't know nothing about a body. But due to this Hip has grown to love go-kart races and wants to compete now that he's older. He also has a new little chomp he's training, flurry is his name.

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ashlingnarcos · 2 years

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The Dancer

Ramón Arellano Félix/Reader, Kitty Paez/Reader, Implied Other Ships

Tags: party girl, bittersweet, this is kind of about finding freedom in your own inability to control the future but also kind of about the Narcojuniors being hot and silly and also kind of about Benjamín being a good dad

Length: 1.7k

A living legend among the Narcojuniors, word has it that you’ve fucked every sibling in the Arellano Félix family. That’s not true. It is, however, almost true…

The nightclub is your natural habitat: lights purple, blue, green strobing your face, sweat slicking back tendrils of hair to your face, fringe of your dress flirting along your legs, dancing, always dancing. You can dance alone, but why would you, when there are so many ready partners? You go to sleep at four, five in the morning, wake up in hotel rooms and other people’s houses, sometimes alone and sometimes not. Either way, you slip out of bed and go stand on the balcony (there is nearly always a balcony), sipping coffee in a silk slip, in a man’s button-down, in nothing at all, just sunlight.

Your worst enemy is boredom, and your best friend—well, what does that matter? Isn’t it enough to stand silhouetted in the archway just before the party begins, isn’t it enough to be greeted eagerly and warmly by people who like you—to be liked everywhere you go? Youth and beauty will do a lot for you, but then there’s the recklessness. You’re not reckless exactly like many of the other Narcojuniors, maybe because you came from another place. While their parents are judges, politicians, businessmen, yours is a general, a hard army man who came up from nothing and took you and your family with him. He doesn’t speak to you any more. You don’t need him to, either. You’ve learned what there is to learn from the man. If you drive a getaway car—and you don’t make it a habit, but hey, shit happens—you drive with both hands on the wheel, nimble, icy-veined. If you end up facing a leering threat—and you don’t make it a habit either, but jungles breed predators—you make your escape fast and light, and sic your attack dog as soon as you can find one.

Speaking of. Here’s two of yours, winding their way through the party to you, no doubt intent on hello kisses. They look like a matched pair, like they coordinated outfits—and honestly, knowing these ridiculous boys, the probably did. Kitty’s in a black suit with crimson shirt, and Ramón’s black and gold silk shirt is unbuttoned enough to catch your attention with the hollow at the base of his throat, a familiar spot. You grin at him through the crowd, remembering, savoring the last of your drink and the attention.

If people think you’re attached, they’re mistaken, but they tend to assume that you’re Ramon’s girl, and that has a little bit of truth to it.You could never work as a long-term, monogamous thing—he’s too rash and reckless even for you, and you’re too hard to pin down for him—but fucking hell, the sex. There’s hardly a wedding or a birthday party that goes by without you taking him to some coatroom, some back hallway, burying your hands in his hair and while he fucks you against the wall. Yeah, he gets jealous, a lot. There’s nothing he can do about it, is there? You’ve never made him promises, have you? If he wants to get angry, all the better—then he fucks you like he’s got something to prove, kisses your neck so hard it leaves marks that you won’t hide in the morning. You never do him the honor of getting jealous in return. That’s not your style. But you enjoy his moods when they come.

And Kitty? He’s actually the closest you have to a regular, mostly because he’s never once tried to tighten a collar round your neck like the rest. He takes everything easy, doesn’t mind it when you slip in out of his house like a cat, pilfer his closet, disappear for a week then show up in his bed sans explanation; in fact, he seems to enjoy the lack of obligations there. It’s off and on, but he never takes you for granted, which is a rare combination. For a guy who likes to pop his collar, he can be very nearly a gentleman: if you’re driving along a coastline on vacation, he’ll buy you flowers at a roadside stand, and sometimes, if you haven’t come twice in one night, he takes it personally and gets on his knees. And he makes you laugh. You need that.

Like right now. After they reach you, and get their kisses, Ramón asks you if you’re coming after the party to see Pancho’s birthday present. Kitty is already digging into his back pocket to get a picture of it, and both of them look at you all expectant and proud as you squint at it, then start howling with laughter.

In the picture, there’s the ruins of an old bungalow, roof caved in and one wall completely destroyed. Right next to it is an incongruously tall crane bearing a huge wrecking ball. Hanging dangerously high from the crane, like it’s monkey bars are Ramón and Kitty, grinning like kids.

“We had to test drive it,” Ramón, by way of explanation.

“Of course,” you say, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, mocking him. “It makes sense. I, too, like to light my cigarette using a fucking grenade.”

“No, it’s a symbol,” says Ramón earnestly. It’s so funny and kind of sweet, the way this man still wants your approval for everything after all this time. “We’re going to knock down the Paraíso hotel so Pancho can build a new one. To expand his—what was it?”

“Portfolio,” Kitty says, just dryly enough that you can tell he knows exactly how funny it is that Ramón has somehow got it into his head to concern himself with investment diversification. Bless him.

“That,” says Ramón triumphantly. “Expand his portfolio.”

“Right,” you say. “And it’s just a tiny little bonus that you get to knock down fifteen stories’ worth of building while you’re at it.”

“Exactly.” Both of them beam at you.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you say, “but I have to run an errand after this. Wait for me?”

“Of course.”

You watch them go with fondness, finishing your drink. The two of them are always cooking up mad schemes—or Ramón is trying to cook them up, while Kitty’s mostly along for the ride, and it never ceases to entertain you, whether they succeed or (which is more common) go awry. You’re often invited to participate, but you never do, preferring just to watch. Maybe that’s one of the reasons the Arellano Félix family let you into their circle so easily. Your lack of interest in making money, gaining power, arranging the future makes you far less of a threat. It’s that, and the pussy. And, for a couple of them—for Enedina, you think—something more. Something few people perceive unless they spend time with you. You’ve got a couple rules. That makes you safer in some ways than anyone else who swears to well-behaved, monogamous devotion.

See, word has it that you’ve fucked every sibling in the Arellano Félix family, right? But there’s an exception to the rule, and it’s not Enedina. It’s Benjamín. There he is at your elbow now, looking faintly miserable in the background of his brother’s birthday party, offering half-heartedly to get you a drink refill. You decline, and ask him what’s wrong instead. His daughter, he says, Ruth, out of the country for some treatment. He says out of the country like it hurts him.

Let’s be honest, when you first met the family, you had Benjamín on your to do list. At that time, you didn’t quite see him as a man so much as an adventure. But when he speaks of his daughter, you always remember that Benjamín is something rarer than a powerful man; he’s a decent father. You won’t make that harder for him. You belong to the streets, but you’ve got a full fucking soul.

You offer Benjamín some small sympathy, and he takes it politely, as though it’s nothing, as though you can’t understand. And it’s that, that politeness without emotion coming from him, that politeness without any connection, that brings out of you your one secret to life. The thing you haven’t told any of the people you bed (and never will).

Her name was Maribel, and she was your sister. Twin sister. You used to share everything: same genes, same clothes, and the same heart condition, the one that took her before her twentieth birthday. The same disease that may someday suddenly take you. Any day now.

It’s rewarding, seeing that look on his face: that he knows now you understand. There is a comfort in it, in being two people standing in the same space who both know exactly how much of this world they control—that is to say, none of it. There’s a companionship.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why mourn?” you say. “We can mourn when we’re dead. Until then…” You incline your head to the party: drinks, laughter, dancing, family, strings of gorgeous lights webbing a constellation above it all. Until then there’s life. But he doesn’t understand it. You can tell, looking at his face, he doesn’t understand it, though he longs to. He still knows fear. Maybe it’s bred into him, maybe it’s a side effect of his responsibilities, but he’ll never learn the lesson you learned. Fear is for other people. You wish you could teach it to him.

You lean in, and he doesn’t pull away. You kiss him on the cheek, and you see his chest rise and fall in one convulsive breath. You have him then. But you’re not going to do it. There’s Ruth the younger to consider, inextricably tied to Ruth the elder. And so you put a gentle hand on his shoulder and slip away into the party, leaving him with an empty glass and the smell of your perfume.

You know the life you want, and it’s the sort of life that has, later that night, a joyous, drug-fuelled threesome with Kitty and Ramón. It’s the sort of life with no attachments, no excuses, nothing due—the sort of life you can slip in and out of like one of your silk dresses, when the time comes. All you have is the present, and so you bite into it like a ripe fruit, licking up the juice running down your fingers. Other women can keep their their careers, their husbands, their children, their futures, all the rest of it—you wake up to fresh flowers in your bedroom and you know who sent them, you know that you are loved, you are alive, and tonight, there will be dancing.

#Narcos Mexico #Narcos Mexico fanfiction #Narcos Mexico imagine #Ramón Arellano Félix x Reader #ramón arellano félix #Kitty Paez x Reader #Kitty Paez #benjamín arellano félix #as always this is fiction based on the fictional show #and as always i am feeling so normal and so fine!!! a;dfkjaslfjd

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handwrittenhello · 3 years

Note

1+64+81 geraskefer?

1. Historical AU + 64. Star-Crossed Lovers + 81. The Missus and the Ex

oooh okay so i’m thinking Victorian era or maybe a bit later, early 1900s. Jaskier belongs to a very high society family, old money. Geralt is the stableboy/groundskeeper, and young teenage Jaskier is just fascinated by him. They have a quick but deeply-burning relationship, entirely secret, of course. His parents and peers would never approve. It has to end, though, when Jaskier goes off to university—Jaskier promises to come back and marry Geralt, but Geralt doubts that it’ll actually happen. Either he’ll find someone else at uni and fall head over heels in love like he does, or he’ll come back to his parents trying to arrange a more respectable marriage. Their last goodbye devolves into a fight—why can’t Jaskier see the inevitable? Why can’t Geralt believe in hope, just a little?

Jaskier leaves the next morning, absolutely miserable, but spitefully determined to have the absolute best time at uni (and probably sleep with more people than he can count, all in an effort to forget Geralt). All is going well, or as well as it can—until Jaskier receives a telegram from his parents. They’ve found a wife for him—she’s new money, and a little unconventional—believes in such silly things as women’s rights—but with rumors of his sexual deviance getting around, she’s the best they could do.

Yennefer and Jaskier are married in the summer, quite unhappily. He’s being all but forced into it—the threat of being cast out, penniless and homeless, hangs over his head. She’s using him as a means to an end—women have so little power in this world, and she’s determined to take as much of it as she can get, even if that means marrying a strange man to take advantage of him and his money and status.

Jaskier’s parents give the (un)happy couple quite the wedding gift—an estate of their own, complete with staff. Complete with a stableman. Complete with Geralt, actually, because the universe hates Jaskier, apparently. A few very miserable months ensue, where Geralt pines after Jaskier and Jaskier pines after Geralt and Yennefer starts sleeping with Geralt because her husband is too depressed to get it up. Everyone feels pretty horrible about the situation, really.

It all comes to a head when Jaskier, heading home from the pub and too drunk to drive safely, wraps his car around a tree. He’s in pretty bad shape—both Geralt and Yennefer show up to the hospital, though. They’ve both realized—neither could bear to lose one third of this strange relationship they’ve found themselves in. They discuss it while Jaskier recovers from emergency surgery—perhaps they could make this strange arrangement work, so that Geralt and Jaskier don’t have to pine from afar anymore and Geralt and Yennefer can sleep together without feeling guilty and Yennefer and Jaskier can stop resenting each other for having exactly what the other wants.

Jaskier almost thinks he’s died and gone to heaven when he wakes up. He refuses to believe it at first—an end to all their problems, just like that? But Geralt and Yennefer are dead serious. They fall into a new rhythm, once Jaskier is out of the hospital, and actually find themselves flourishing. They still have to keep up appearances, of course—functionally Yennefer and Jaskier are a very devoted husband and wife, who are so very kind and friendly to their staff. It’s only at night that it’s safe to fall into each others’ arms and love freely.

...aaaand i may have to write this now. thanks grey skdhdhsj

(send me a trope mashup!)

#the witcher #geraskefer #geraskier #yennskier #yenskier #yenralt #ask game #witcher #greyduckgreygoose

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hockeylvr59 · 3 years

Text

Wedding Dress || Matthew Tkachuk

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Author’s Note: This was completely inspired by the song Wedding Dress by Levi Hummon because it just screamed Matty to me. I have another song in mind for a follow up, let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in.

Warnings: mentions of legal drinking

Word Count: 1,134

~~~~~~

Everyone that knew Matthew Tkachuk knew that he was a goner for her from the moment they met. And though he tried to deny it - at least at first - that everyone included him.

But what wasn’t there to be a goner for? She was smart, funny, beautiful, and his entire family loved her. They had met her first after all, given that she was a graduate assistant for Taryn’s field hockey team at UVA.

Matthew could still remember the day he first met her, standing outside the visitor’s locker room in D.C. next to his sister. She was wearing one of the many Flames shirts that Taryn had acquired over the past few years and was laughing at something his sister had said. The way she smiled made it impossible for him not to mirror her expression involuntarily even if they had lost the game to the Capitals in overtime.

His sister had introduced them and explained that the beautiful woman in front of him had offered to be her ride since she didn’t have a car at school. Well, Taryn didn’t phrase it quite like that but that was the gist that Matthew had gotten out of it. He’d later learned the role that she played in his sister’s life but even without that knowledge he was grateful that Taryn had such a great support system at school including having someone willing to drive her up to D.C. mid-week just to watch him play.

Before long, she had been added to their family group chat, helping to arrange for Chantal and Keith to attend a tournament Tayrn was playing. Even after the tournament, she remained, providing Matthew with updates about her life and who she was as a person: witty, able to give it just as good as she got it, and never afraid to call him and Brady out on their shit. Matthew was growing more and more infatuated everyday.

By the time summer arrived, Matthew was already head over heels and he’d only met her once. Learning that she was going to spend the summer with them nearly knocked him off his axis and the first few weeks were honestly a little embarrassing for him. She was just...so perfect... and Matthew didn’t know how to act around her. Brady teased him endlessly once he’d realized and Taryn had threatened him to back the fuck off because this was one of her mentors and friends.

Matthew of course didn’t listen. Well...he’d tried, but failed miserably the first time they took the boat out on the lake and he saw her in nothing but a semi-skimpy bathing suit laughing and drinking with his mom. He’d been unable to bite back a flirty comment and when she returned her own he was sunk. Matthew wasn’t present for the ensuing conversation with Taryn but clearly the girls had reached an accord of some sort with a promise that she could handle Taryn’s older brother.

Since then, they’d been together. Through the highs of a party and relaxation filled summer and the lows of a long distance relationship once September hit and Matthew had returned to Calgary while the women he loved went back to Virginia. It hadn’t been easy but they had made it through that first year and Matthew was by her side as she graduated with her masters degree. It was at that point that people...namely Chantal and Matthew’s grandmother...started asking if there would be wedding bells anytime in the near future. But they’d talked it over and agreed to wait. Even though she was planning to come to Calgary in the fall, neither saw any reason to rush that step of their lives. They were more than content with where they were, moving in together was going to be a big enough step already. Matthew recalled that she’d told him repeatedly that she didn’t need a ring on her finger to know that he loves her and that marriage could wait until they were both truly ready for it.

Yet, now...just a few months later...Matthew was questioning that decision. Letting her tug him to the dance floor at Mitch Marner’s wedding he couldn’t help but think about how much he loves her as she rested her head against his chest, slowly swaying to the beat the band played. Across the room Steph, Mitch’s bride, was mingling with the guests. Matthew wasn’t stupid, he knew Steph looked gorgeous today as the bride certainly should, but when his eyes fell back on the woman in his arms his mind drifted away.

She’d be the most stunning bride the world has ever seen. Maybe it was just the champagne starting to go straight to his head but for the first time he couldn’t help but wonder how she’d respond if he proposed. Would she even say yes? He knew that he was far from perfect, that she was leaps and bounds outside of his league, but he was pretty sure that she loves him as much as he loves her.

They said they were going to wait, but the way she’d cried during the vows made him wonder now if that was something she wanted for herself. Did she really want to wait? Or did she want to be the one to catch the white bouquet that Steph had left waiting at the couple’s table to throw later in the evening. It was a silly superstition that whoever caught it was going to be the next to get married but suddenly Matthew didn’t even care, he wanted her to be the one to catch it so that he could made that stupid wives tale true.

Spinning her around, Matthew watched the fabric of her dress swirl around her knees and after a moment he pulled her back against his chest kissing her deeply. His eyes sought out hers and he slid his hand around her lower back smiling softly down at her.

They’d only been together for a little over a year, but Matthew knew that she was the one. Aside from the Stanley Cup, there was only one thing he wanted in life and he was now determined to make it happen.

He wanted to see her in a wedding dress. To make the most perfect woman he’d ever met his wife. Now obviously wasn’t the time, but as soon as he got a ring...asked her father’s permission...he was going to get down on one knee.

Until then, he was just going to fantasize about the way she’d look in not just any wedding dress, but her wedding dress. He already knew she was going to blow him away and that he’d be even more in love with her then, then he is now.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #cflames #040

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

Second Place ; Miya Osamu.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | miya osamu x fem!reader

w.c | 2.2k

genre | fluff

warning(s) | slightly suggestive, implied sexual content

author's note | i've been wanting to write this for a while! so here it is <3 it's not beta read and I didn't use a lot of metaphorical filling so it's not that poetic but eh Idc bc ✨ self indulgence ✨

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Once upon a time, Miya Osamu swore that he would never settle for second place again— He was never going to let another Miya score first place while he stood in the shadows. The twins had split paths after graduation, stepping onto stages where they'd never have to compete against each other for the spotlight again.

... Okay, who was he kidding. He'd be compared to Atsumu for his whole life— It wasn't like a different career would change that. Besides, his aunts were way too bored to not spin up something about him and his brother during family gatherings.

"Atsumu's making more money, isn't he?"

Well duh, he was a professional volleyball player, of course he made more money— Osamu wanted to roll his eyes in front of his aunts to make sure they understood that he heard their hushed whispers— But then again, he was an adult now, and he knew better than to stoop that low.

The comforting grip you had on his wrist also helped.

Things did get slightly better for him, though.

"Atsumu, your brother's already married," Osamu overheard his second aunt say to his twin during his wedding reception, "When are you going to settle down?"

The grey-haired Miya couldn't help but have a grin on his face for the entire night. Granted, the fact there was a silver ring on your finger also helped. You were absolutely radiant that night, and Osamu couldn't have been happier to finally be able to introduce you as his spouse.

Osamu's marriage did tilt more pressure towards his twin's way, because not more than half a year later, Atsumu caved in and found a sweet little thing to share his life with. The setter had had a couple flings here and there in his earlier years— But none of them ever lasted that long, and Atsumu had never introduced them to his brother, which is how Osamu knew that his twin really cared about the girl when the golden-haired man visited Onigiri Miya with her hanging on his arms.

If he didn't have the decency to help his brother maintain a good image, Osamu would've straight-up snorted at how tense his twin was when he served onigiri up onto their table, the shop empty with the exception of one table. It was almost like Atsumu was seeking Osamu's approval— Which was hilarious enough without the fact that the setter was nervous about it.

At the end of the night, it was as if the weight of the world was lifted off Atsumu's shoulders. Kaoru— The name of Osamu's potential sister-in-law— Got along wonderfully with you, who kept the shy-but-bright woman entertained as Osamu dragged his twin into the kitchen to make fun of him.

"Oh, go easy on him," You elbowed him lightly as the two of you closed up the shop for the night, wiping down the tables and tucking the chairs in. "Atsumu genuinely cares about her, he's making an effort!"

Osamu let out the snort he had held in for most of the evening. "I wouldn't be his brother if I didn't make fun of him."

"Boys." You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. You had been around to catch the tail-end of some of Atsumu's previous relationships, so you could tell that Kaoru was different; In a way, Atsumu looked at her the same way Osamu eyed a nice piece of mackerel in the grocery shop.

"I heard that! C'mere," Osamu grinned, tackling you from the back. A smile burst across his lips when a giggle erupted from your lips, a cloth rag smacking him in the face when you tried to wriggle away from his hold. "You aren't getting away, pumpkin. Save your energy for later."

He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, yelping when he was smacked with the rag again.

"There won't be a later if you keep that up." You warned, laughing when horror instantly swept over his expression. His protests echoed in your ears as you thought about how this marriage was something you'd never regret. Yes, it was rough because his business took off on a rocky road, but you knew there was no gain without pain, so you hung on and saw him through to the fruits of his labour.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The next family meeting was graced with the presence of Kaoru, who, in turn, had been graced with your advice.

"Dress decently, do not wear black," You had warned her the night before on the phone, grimacing at the memory of your first Miya family dinner. No one had aunts more judgemental than the Miya twins. "I would suggest going with a dress. Oh, and it might help to bring a gift. A bottle of Ginseng Wine might be a good idea."

"We're here," Osamu parked the car outside the family home, subconsciously wincing at the sight of his aunts' vehicles. "... Ah. They’re here."

"I see they turned up early," You grimaced, "Atsumu and Kaoru-chan are going to have a brilliant night."

"Yup." Your husband grinned slightly at that, earning a smack for smiling at his brother's suffering. "Oh, he'll be fine. We'll mention that when Atsumu really needs saving." The wink he sent your way made your stomach butterflies flutter, but the warm touch of his fingers on your hand made them settle. "We'll be fine," Osamu's eyes softened as he met yours, reassuring you. "You've got me, remember? Worst case scenario, we'll just high-tail out of there and say we need to work tomorrow."

"Right," You released a breath of relief, interlocking your fingers with his. "Ready?"

"To see Atsumu suffer?" Osamu quipped. "Hell yeah."

And suffer did Atsumu. Kaoru wasn’t spared (of course she wasn’t—) and was judged from head-to-toe by the Miya's critical aunts. From the way they were eyeing her, you'd think they were the judges of Miss Universe instead of potential aunt-in-laws. Despite that, Kaoru braved the storm and stood strong through the whole night, her resilience shining with her determination to be with the other Miya twin— Osamu nodded his approval at that.

After dinner, the family gathered in the living room, with the elderly seated on the cushioned couches while the twins were squashed together on a bean bag (that you had to convince them to share, because apparently they were adamant about pushing the other off of it). Kaoru and you managed to snag a small corner of a couch, stifling your laughter at the sour faces of your respective significant others.

"So, Kaoru-san," Four heads collectively flinched when the aunt opened her mouth, "What's your job? Yearly salary?"

"Um, I'm... I'm a newspaper editor," Kaoru fidgeted with the strap of her bag while you resisted the urge to snap at her to look as confident as she could if she didn't want the interrogation to go on for the rest of the night. A shy, nervous thing like her would only make the predator's lick their lips at the sight of easy prey.

"Oh! That makes sense," The woman sneered, Osamu's mother not-so-discreetly turning up the volume of the television in hopes that the conversation would be drowned out. "You definitely dress with the salary of an editor."

Offence flashed across Atsumu's face like lightning, but before he could start a fight to defend his girlfriend's honour, Osamu dragged his brother back onto the bean bag and stood up.

"Excuse me, everyone," Osamu put on his practiced customer-service smile flawlessly, capturing everyone's attention instantly. "Y/N and I have an announcement to make." His eyes met yours, and you nodded, a smile waltzing across your lips.

"Mother, father," You begin, addressing your in-laws like you addressed your own parents. Encouragement swirled in your blood as Osamu interlocked your hands and squeezed your fingers. "You're going to be grandparents."

It took a while for the news to kick in.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Osamu's mother cried out, rushing to envelop you in a hug that you gracefully accepted. "Do you know the gender yet?"

"Of course not, mother." Osamu rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We're not that far along yet."

"That's amazing! Congratulations!" Kaoru beamed brightly, not having picked up on Osamu's timely intervention.

"Thank you." You replied warmly.

"Well then, are you going to stop working?" The first aunt shot at you, smirking, coy as ever. She knew that you weren't the type to drop your job just because of an incoming child.

"Of course not." You replied easily, "What kind of spouse would I be if I couldn't help carry the financial burdens with my husband?"

She shut her trap instantly, huffing in fury. Osamu had never looked prouder.

The family rejoiced for a little longer, and from the tip of your ears, you heard Osamu gloating slightly about having reached another milestone earlier than his brother.

"I love you," Your husband murmured into the crook of your neck as the two of you cuddled in the warmth of your bed, too far for his aunts' sharp words to hurt you. "And our little boy in there.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

“... Father’s instinct.”

Months flew by in a blur, and so did doctor appointments, Sunday shopping trips with Kaoru as you left Atsumu to help Osamu in the restaurant. The pair would drive the half-an-hour trip from Osaka to Hyogo every weekend. This arrangement elicited a couple silly arguments between the twins, of course, but once you taught Kaoru the stern look that would make the two settle like guilty puppies with their tails between their legs— Those arguments became simple matters to handle.

“Have you thought of names yet?” Kaoru asked you while the two of you sipped on coffee.

“I have a couple in mind,” You smiled. “Osamu won’t stop going on about how he was right. The baby’s a boy.”

“Boys will be boys,” Kaoru rolled her eyes. Then, her expression changed to a wistful one. “This might sound odd, but… I just find myself thinking, sometimes… One day, I want what you and Osamu have.”

“... A happy marriage?” You raised an eyebrow, “Honey, you’re already on your way to one. Atsumu looks at you the same way ‘Samu looks at a bowl of gyudon. Or the way I look at a bucket of mint ice cream with peanut butter…”

Kaoru made a concerned look. “The baby sure craves some odd things.”

“You’ll experience this one day.” You returned pointedly. “Logically, I never would’ve thought of eating mint chocolate ice cream with peanut butter slathered on… But cravings are cravings. And it was surprisingly nice.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

After nine long months of waiting, Miya Tomohito was welcomed to the world. Osamu cried (Atsumu made fun of him for it before getting smacked by Kaoru— She was learning a lot from you). Both yours and Osamu’s parents wouldn’t stop gawking at your baby boy, with his little tuff of dark hair, his tightly-fisted hands and the slight cherry-red flush of his cheeks. You never thought you’d fall in love at first sight— But your son was living proof that you were wrong. From the first moment you held him in your arms, you had already given a piece of your heart for him to hold in his tiny little hands.

It quickly became a regular sight for frequent customers of Onigiri Miya to see Osamu walking around the shop, a sleeping baby boy strapped to his back. The two were inseparable. Once, you walked in on your husband having a full conversation with Tomohito, who was sucking on a spoon.

“I’m thinking of adding a twist to my tuna onigiri recipe,” Osamu said, as if he were talking to an adult and not a three-month old baby. “Do you think adding a squeeze of lemon juice will make it taste better?”

“Gwa.” Tomohito replied intelligently.

“Great suggestion, Tomo.”

“Mmm.”

“I see. We could go to the grocery store later to get some tuna and try that recipe tonight.”

“Ba.”

“You’re a genius, Tomo.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“I can’t believe you.” Osamu looked helpless. “You’re not… You’re not seriously doing this to me.”

“I’m completely serious.” You said firmly, having put your foot down with no room for argument.

“You’re really choosing him over me?” Your husband’s jaw dropped when you nodded solemnly. “I’m your husband!”

“And he’s my son.” You shot back instantly.

“You’re kicking me out of our bed for our son?”

“He’s sick!” You refuted. “I need him to be as close as possible to me. His fever hasn’t gone down completely yet and I can’t let him go back into his cot tonight. Besides, you might get sick if we all sleep in the same bed. Who’ll take care of the shop then?”

Osamu drooped visibly. He couldn’t believe what was happening— He had lost to a Miya once again— Now his son instead of his brother. “Fine.” He mumbled sadly. “Make your poor husband sleep on the couch.”

“It’s only for one night, ‘Samu.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomohito's name is written as 智仁. '智' means intelligence and '仁' means compassionate. I have a friend named Tomohito.

Also, when I was writing this I reminded myself to make sure I made the reader gender-neutral. That is, until I realised that I made the reader pregnant. I am an idiot.

haikyuu!! gen taglist: @haru-senji @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @animegirlweeb @cemeiia @haikyuushuffle

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu x reader fluff #miya osamu x reader fluff #[ris writes]—✧#ris's works: [second place]—✧

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thorns-and-rosewings · 2 years

Text

Some AU Headcanons for Carnage x Shriek

So apparently there actually are some people who want to hear these silly AU headcanons I made after watching Venom, let there be Carnage.

These are strictly for the movie versions of Carnage and Shriek, due in no small part to the massive difference between the comic and movie versions...

These are supposed to just be silly, amusing and an interesting read. I have the story pretty fleshed out but there is no way I have any time to actually write it. So these headcanons and MAYBE a little art will be the entirety of my contribution to this fandom.

Still, hope y'all enjoy them :)

So rather than directly planning on revenge on Brock, Mulligan and outright homicide for Venom. The three decided to take a very wild celebration/honeymoon instead. There were several reasons for this... Firstly, with how long Cletus and Frances have just longed to be reunited, them being together again trumped the desire for revenge.

Secondly as much as Carnage hated to admit it, Venom was still older and more experienced than he was in combat. So he (albeit begrudgingly) agreed getting some additional experience under his belt was probably a good idea. So after their red, bloody wedding they set off on their merry murderous way.

Headcanons:

-Frances is extremely touch starved.

-She spent 25 years in a tiny cell alone like a rat in a cage; so she is extremely clingy to Cletus for a good while after she is freed.

-Especially at night if she wakes up from a bad dream, she will cling to him even if he's still asleep. Just to reassure herself that she really is free, he's there and the whole thing was not just a dream.

-Kasady not only doesn't mind, but he is the same way in that he needs to reassure himself that he truly has found his beautiful fractured angel, and the whole thing isn't a hallucination he's having while being executed.

-Carnage rolls his eyes and thinks these two are a little too sappy. But... even he can't help but get some warm and fuzzy feelings the longer he is with them.

-Much to his dismay...

-At first there was some high tensions between Carnage and Shriek due to her powers being dangerous to him and him also snapping at her because of it... Frances reacted badly to these situations, but it became obvious pretty quickly the reason was directly tied to her mistreatment at Ravencroft.

-It took a bit of effort, but eventually things were able to get worked out so that Shriek was considerably more careful with her sonic screams not to accidentally catch Carnage in the crossfire.

-If he is in the way and there is no avoiding him and the situation truly called for her to use her powers, Frances now carries with her several flares. Which she would do her best to light before she screams. Those few seconds are often the only time Carnage needs to get out of the way due to his speed.

-The bonus would be the flare being used to cause a fire afterwards, which all three would find amusing.

-Due to this system and just in general learning to live with each other, hostility between the symbiote and Shriek is nearly non-existent. Although he will still be grumpy for a time should the very rare occasion occur where this system fails.

-While both Cletus and Frances know how to drive, Frances tends to drive more often while Cletus is in charge of the radio.

-Carnage will often materialize his head and hang it out the side of the car with his tongue hanging out, much like a dog.

-Goes without saying, they ignore speed limits.

-Any car that honks their horns at them is quickly dealt with.

-During the duos time in St. Estes, Cletus and Frances made a list of everything they wanted to do together once they were married. And they decide to cross off the majority of these wishes during their trip.

-While many of these wishes were violent, such as pushing a dozen different people in front of oncoming trains to see how different they splatter. Some were genuinely benign, like wanting to go to a drive in movie.

-It took a while, (It was surprisingly harder than killing people with a train) but they eventually found a drive in theater that had an all night horror movie marathon on.

-Carnage made snarky comments throughout many of the movies; with the only movie he was quiet through and actually enjoyed was 'The Thing'

-He stole a cell phone and wrote it a 5 star review, stating the only downside was that the alien didn't win and feast upon humanity.

-Every other movie they saw he left mean-spirited reviews.

-He tends to do this a lot.

-But his mean reviews however have earned him a bit of a following online.

-Occasionally he and Kasady will stream a horror movie, where the movie can be seen and they will just make comments throughout it. With no one actually seeing who is giving the dialogue.

-Its titled 'Red and Mr. C Review'

-It is deliberately ambiguous who is who...

-Carnage: Oh God the female is going to scream... again...

-Cletus: And they always do it while they run... Never got that logic, it just lets the killer follow your annoying screams right too you. At least that's how it works in my experience. And I am what you'd call an expert on the subject...

-Carnage: Bah, and the main character is so annoying... I would rather have our wife scream at us point blank then be forced to watch this again. Poor character development!

-Shriek is off camera laughing, nobody loves hearing their show as much as she does.

-Truthfully Carnage likes it more than Cletus, but Kasady goes along with it because the symbiote enjoys it and loves being such a jerk. All relationships are give and take after all.

-They spent a few weeks in Mexico, even attending the Day of the Dead festivities.

-Goes without saying, the party lived up to the name.

-Shriek wore a beautiful costume that greatly resembled La Muerte from the Book of Life.

-Carnage got to walk the streets in his true form...

-Enjoyable enough until they added their own fun to the rest of the party...

-Insert these two dancing together while Carnages tendrils just went out and started slicing people up, coating the ground and walls in blood and gore.

-And yeah they did spend a few days just relaxing on a beach too.

-Carnage is the reverse of Venom in that he can eat all the people and brains he wants without restraint, he does just get cravings for chocolate.

-Is an admitted chocoholic.

-During a trip through a small town, the murder family got a bit turned around down a forested backroad and came across a large secluded and gorgeous manor concealed in the woods.

-The owner of this house was disposed of and strung up by his guts in the town, a symbolic gesture of them claiming his home and belongings as theirs.

-It's their new little love nest.

-They also laid claim to the forest as well. Anybody stupid enough to go into 'Their forest' is never going to be seen again.

-Their property signs are crudely drawn images of Carnages face

-They kinda became this towns cryptids...

-The local town mayor realized these two weren't going to leave, so rather than call in any gov agency for help... which would automatically cause a bloodbath and probably get the whole town killed... he figured the best course of action was the one of least resistance.

-Namely, the town would leave the psychopaths alone, and pray to God that would get them to leave the residents of the town alone as a result...

-This has worked so far because of two reasons...

-1) The town has a higher than average population of mutants and this leads Shriek to have SOME sympathy for the residents. So she and Cletus tend to target other nearby towns for their murderous fun.

-2) There is a particular bakery in this town that just has the best sweets that the trio like... Even if they ever decide to wreck the town the owners of this shop would be safe, provided they keep their end of an unspoken bargain.

-2.A) This aforementioned bargain is that occasionally there will be a red spike nailing a paper with an order for something to the back door. The order is filled and left out back for pick up... they may not be paid for the items beyond the promise of not being murdered for fun.

...I actually have a second part of this that I will write and post some time later if people actually enjoy this one. Like I said this was just for fun and entertaining to read. :)

#Venom #venom au #venom let there be carnage #cletus kasady #cletus x frances #frances barrison #Carnage #carnage symbiote #Carnage x Shriek

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hrina · 4 years

Text

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #spookrry #harry writing #ok here it is 🙃 i lowkey feel like its gonna flop but w/e

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callivich · 3 years

Text

I really love the idea of Lip having to take Ian and Mickey home after their anniversary party, so I wrote a little something.

This references a previous ficlet where Lip has an inappropriate dream about Mickey, so adults only please!

Thanks to @udontfuckangie for the advice RE: babies in car seats in ambulances! This was originally going to have Tami drive the ambulance with Freddie but yeah, not safe. So, I had to change things - therefore let’s assume the ambulance is fine parked outside the Alibi for a night. Also, the song is “Hot Girl” by Megan Thee Stallion.

Lip gets into the front seat of his and Tami’s car to find Mickey leaning through the gap, half in the front of the car and half in the back, fiddling with the radio. He flicks through the different stations until he finds something he wants to listen to. Lip wants to shove him backwards and tell him to sit the fuck down, but...fuck, it’s their wedding anniversary. So, he’ll allow it.

“All the hot girls make it pop, pop, pop, bad bitches with the bag say ah ya ya”

“Fucking love this song.” Mickey shouts, turning the volume up, the bass vibrating through the car. He scrambles back awkwardly, elbowing Lip in the side, so that he’s sitting in the back seat. Ian laughs like this is the most hilarious thing that he’s ever seen. They both nod their heads in time to the rhythm, singing the chorus loudly.

Lip shakes his head, if there’s one thing he hates about being sober it’s dealing with drunk people, but, he reminds himself it’s their wedding anniversary and, goddamn, do they deserve to be carefree and happy. And they are feeling very carefree and happy right now. And also very drunk. So much so, it was decided that they should leave the ambulance outside the Albi and Lip would drive them home, before coming back to the bar to get Tami and Fred. It’s not that late, and Freddie is sleeping soundly so he leaves Tami to enjoy the party for a bit longer.

The song ends and Lip quickly turns down the volume so his eardrums aren’t destroyed.

“Play it again!” Mickey shouts, again, as if Lip isn’t sitting right in front of him.

“I can’t, it’s the radio.”

“Fuck you.”

He can hear Ian laughing again, like Mickey is the funniest person in the world.

“Put your seatbelts on.” Lip orders, cutting through the laughter.

“Fuck you.” Mickey replies, as Ian puts on his own seatbelt.

“Very creative, you just gonna repeat yourself all night? I’m not driving until you wear a seatbelt.” Lip sighs, as Ian’s words from earlier come back to haunt him - he’s feeling very much like a dad to Ian and Mickey right now.

“M’fine, just drive, bitch.” Mickey grumbles, punching the back of Lip’s seat.

“No.” Lip taps the steering wheel. “Seatbelt.”

“Here, I’ll do it.” Ian reaches across Mickey and pulls the seatbelt, clicking it into place after a few tries. “Gotta keep you safe.” He gently pats Mickey’s chest.

Lip rolls his eyes at the sappy, soft tone of Ian’s voice, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get over hearing Ian speak like that to Mickey fucking Milkovich, as if he’s the most precious thing in the world. But, he supposes, to Ian he is. Still, it’s weird.

Checking one more time to see they are wearing seatbelts, he starts the car and wishes for no traffic and an easy ride to the West Side.

“You liked the surprise?” Mickey asks Ian.

“Loved it.”

“I got you good.”

“Yeah, you did. Really thought you’d forgotten.”

“But I didn’t!”

“Fucking love you so much.”

“Love you too.”

And then the inevitable making out starts, and the car is filled with the sounds of sloppy kissing, breathy ‘yeah’s, and some verging on pornographic sounding moaning.

“Wanna suck you off.” Mickey whispers, thankfully loud enough for Lip to hear so he can put a stop to that before it happens. He reaches one arm behind and pushes blindly at Mickey’s head.

“No you’re not, Mickey. I’m serious, sit back.” He pulls his arm back, when he hears Mickey huffing and swearing under his breath. He checks the rear view mirror, and Mickey is glaring at him but sitting upright.

“It’s our fucking wedding anniversary.” Mickey punches the back of Lip’s seat again.

“I know, but you aren’t going to suck my brother off in the backseat of my car. That just isn’t going to happen.” Lip takes a deep breath, goddamn, Mickey is a pain in the ass when he’s drunk, and even more so than usual tonight. Probably down to him being so pleased at pulling off the surprise. And Lip gets that - Ian looked completely astonished when he’d walked into the party. Ian is drunker than Lip’s seen him in a long while - he doesn’t usually drink that much because of his meds, but once in awhile, during a special occasion like this, he lets loose. And it’s kinda nice to see? Because Ian is a sweet, sappy and very silly drunk - there’s something endearing about his behaviour. Lip likes seeing him carefree like this. He doesn’t feel the same way about Mickey, but then, he’s never really found Mickey that endearing.

Lip hears a slurred “c’mere” and some giggling and then there is more kissing. Which is fine, but anything more than that and he’s pulling this car over immediately. He really is in dad mode. He doesn’t want to spoil all their fun, he just doesn’t want to be anywhere near their fun while they’re having it.

The drive seems to take forever, all to the soundtrack of two very in love husbands who are making out as if it’s the first time they’ve ever done it. Lip can’t lie to himself, he’s a little jealous. He’d love a night like this with Tami - just the two of them, happy and silly and able to make out like teenagers. But that’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. Especially if she’s pregnant again. That’s a thought for another day though. Right now he needs to concentrate on Ian and Mickey.

He was hoping to just drop them off, but Lip realises, as he pulls into the apartment car park, that isn’t going to work. Because the first thing Ian says as the car comes to a stop is “let’s go swimming!”

“Yeah! Let’s fuck in the pool!” Mickey agrees excitedly, pulling on the car door and failing to open it.

Lip realises he needs to make sure they get to their apartment before they get themselves in trouble. He has visions of them being found floating face down in the pool, so he helps them both out of the car and firmly steers them towards the entrance to the apartment block.

“No swimming. You two are way too fucked up for that.” He ushers them through the open door into a well lit corridor, lined with doors to apartments and other doors to what he guesses are the offices and maintenance for the building.

“You just.....you just don’t wanna see Mickey without a shirt. In case you get all excited...again.” Ian is grinning, his face flushed.

“What?” Mickey barks, suddenly very interested in the handle of a door which he yanks up and down. There’s a sign that reads ‘private’ and it’s obviously locked but Mickey continues to yank at it for some reason Lip can’t fathom.

“He had a sex dream about you.” Ian is attempting to whisper, but it’s loud, oh so loud in the empty hallway. “I’m not supposed to say because it’s a secret.”

“Ian. What the fuck?” Lip sighs, exasperated.

“Ugh, gross.” Mickey gives up on trying to open the locked door, and turns to Lip with a disgusted look on his face. “Don’t fucking dream about me like that.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. It was a fucking dream.” Lip realises his mistake as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

“It sure was!” Ian is still grinning. “A fucking dream. Where you fucked Mickey!” He bursts into laughter at his own joke, leaning against the wall.

Mickey still has that disgusted look on his face. “As if I would ever let you....” He shakes his head. “Fucking gross. I love Ian. Only wanna get fucked by Ian.”

Christ, Lip thinks, he needs to get them to their apartment, he doesn’t want to hear anymore of this kind of talk.

Mickey has taken Ian’s hands in his own, and Ian’s looking at Mickey like what he just said was very romantic. “Yeah, Lip, you can’t have him. He’s mine. My husband.”

“It was a dream. It doesn’t mean anything. I definitely do not want to have sex with Mickey. Ok? Let’s just get you two to your apartment. Now.” Lip pushes them firmly, and they stumble forward, still holding hands.

“Good. Besides...if I was...if I was single. Sure as fuck wouldn’t want to fuck you.....jabby.”

Lip frowns, “How do you know about that?”

“Oh, me and Tami....we talk. Gotta complain about you Gallaghers.”

“Jesus Christ. You two are friends now?”

“Yeah.” Mickey laughs. “Guess so.”

“Jabby!” Ian shouts gleefully, running slightly behind in the conversation, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what ‘jabby’ refers to.

“And you told him? Great.”

“Course I did, it was fucking funny.”

“It’s ok.” Ian pats Lip on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring. “I’m sure you’ll get better with practice.” Mickey lets out what Lip can only describe as a cackle.

“Jesus Christ, that was one time and it was a one off.” They are finally, finally, at the elevators and he practically punches the up button. He’s hasn’t been here before but he remembers Ian saying their apartment was on the second floor, so he trusts that’s right.

“In you go.” He herds them into the elevator and presses the ‘2’ button. And once again, they are on each other, furiously kissing. Lip thinks the elevator is moving much to slowly. He hits the ‘2’ button again. Mercifully, the elevator doors soon open on the second floor. But neither Mickey or Ian has noticed and Lip grabs Ian by the back of his coat and pulls him out, Mickey stumbling after him.

“Hey, hands off.” Mickey grabs for Ian, who Lip is dragging behind him as he purposefully strides down the corridor. He has to get them inside, he can’t take much more of this.

“He’s stealing me, Mickey!” Ian laughs, “Help! Help!” His voice echoes much too loudly around the corridor.

“I’ll...save you!” Mickey manages to spit out between laughs, almost doubling over.

“You can have him back when we get to your place? Ok.” Lip turns and looks over his shoulder. “Just come on Mickey, follow us.”

A door they are passing suddenly swings open, and a very annoyed older lady is standing there, cell phone in hand. “Everything alright? I heard someone say they needed help?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine.” Lip smiles, trying to look respectable. Which is hard because Ian and Mickey are giggling, red-faced and stumbling about. “They....they’ve just had a bit too much to drink and I’m helping them get home.”

“It’s our wedding anniversary!” Ian yells, throwing his arms in the air.

The woman looks distinctly unimpressed. “That’s very nice. But it’s late, you know. You can’t go around shouting for help if you don’t need it. Especially at this time of night!”

“Listen lady, if my husband-”

Lip interrupts before Mickey can finish whatever threat he’s about to make, “They know, and they’re very sorry. And I’m gonna make sure they are quiet right now.” He grabs Ian’s hand and then Mickey’s and uses all his strength to get them to start walking, as the woman shuts her door with one more disapproving glare. “Come on. Home. Now. Please.”

They get to the door of the apartment Lip thought they would never reach. “Keys?”

Ian frowns, as if this question is a difficult math problem on a test he didn’t study for. “Uh.” He slaps one hand to his chest, then the other and then begins to rummage around in his jacket pockets. “Uh. Hmmm....”

Mickey isn’t much help either. “Maybe....here?” He says, grabbing Ian’s crotch, which causes Ian to smile and giggle and get distracted.

“Come on, Ian. Where are the keys?”

“Oh. Yeah. Keys.” He eventually produces a set from his jacket which has far too many pockets for Lip’s liking or for his tolerance at this time in this never ending evening. “Keys!”

“Good. Great.” Lip snatches them, opens the door, and shoves them, gently - it is their anniversary after all, no matter how fucking annoying they are being - through the door, slamming it shut behind him as he follows them in. He lets out a deep breath, it felt like they would never get here.

The apartment is nice, new, modern. The kind of place he never would have imagined them living in. In fact, even though it’s not furnished properly yet, Lip can see it’s a really nice place. And he’s pleased, he wants them, especially Ian, to live somewhere good like this. They deserve it.

They’re standing in the middle of the empty living room, holding one another, swaying slightly. Ian’s hands move down Mickey’s back to rest on his ass. Better get out of here, Lip thinks to himself.

“You guys need to drink some water.” He starts to rummage around the pristine kitchen until he finds two glasses that he recognises from home...or rather, what’s no longer home, not really - the Gallagher house. There’s only two glasses, clearly they haven’t been shopping yet, he fills them both with water.

“Alright, lovebirds, drink up!” Lip holds the glasses out, but neither of them move. They’re just staring at one another, silently, with small smiles on their faces. “Not gonna leave till you have some water.”

They both put one arm out at the same time, because of course they do. Lip hands them their water and waits until they’ve both drunk their whole glasses.

Satisfied that he’s done everything he can, he makes a move to leave. “I’m going. Enjoy the rest of your anniversary.”

Ian is caressing Mickey’s face with one hand, the other barely holding the glass which is dangling at his side. “Thanks, Lip. Love you bro.”

“Love you too, asshole.” He turns to leave, but fuck it....Mickey is his brother-in-law, and even though he’s a real pain in the ass, he makes Ian happy and that’s the most important thing, and also they’re probably too drunk to remember what he’s going to say.... “And you too, Mick.”

“Gross. Stop fucking fantasising about me, Philip.” Mickey grumbles, never taking his eyes of Ian.

Lip laughs, and let’s himself out, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #gallavich fic #ficlet #as always feel free to continue this or add to it!!

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jayvespertine · 3 years

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When you're feeling down, read this....

Lay in bed for the whole day. Tangled in your perfect white sheets with your silk pillow and puffy comforter. Drink lots of tea, but drink even more coffee. Wander through the perfume section in stores and test every single sent. Buy yourself flowers because you are beyond worth it. Treat yourself to something pretty even if there is absolutely no reason too. Watch a chic flick and ball your eyes out. Read a book and fall asleep while doing so. Take an adventure with a friend. Start yoga. Learn to bake. Take a long drive and blast music and sing your heart out. Keep a journal so that you never forgot a second of your exciting ever-changing life. Cry over silly stupid boys. Wear pretty heels with red bottoms. Meet a friend for brunch and order the biggest stack of waffles. Go to school because you're excited to learn, not because you want straight A's. Re-watch Breakfast at Tiffany's and aspire to be Audrey Hepburn. Buy an insane amount of coffee table books even if you have nowhere to put them. Save up for your dream car. Take long bubble baths. Wake up early to go to the farmers market and get the first patch of peonies. Find secret little coffee shops where you can plan out your big dreams. Raise your hopes up even if you know you will be disappointed. Twirl around your bedroom in your white robe with the record player spinning Shania Twain. Take out your sewing machine and create something wonderful. Laugh until you stomach hurts. Walk into Chanel and walk out with a quilted purse. Buy a ball gown even if you have no place to wear it. Try on your mother's diamond rings and beautiful emerald necklaces and dream of when you will be with someone who buys you something sparkly. Drink to many Shirley Temples. Daydream about your future wedding. Lose yourself in an art museum. Read poetry, and then write your own. Travel the world, but always return home. Have marble and gold everything. Live in a house with a turn-around and Range Rovers lining the drive. Throw parties bigger then Gatsby. Always have fresh fruit in the fridge, but make sure to eat too much chocolate. Wear what you want you like, not what everyone else wears. Build a fort out of pillows on rainy days. Always carry bobby pins and a tub of mascara. Giggle at your own jokes. Be there for your friends when they need a shoulder to cry on. Read Vogue. Send snail mail to someone who you haven't spoken to in forever. Dance until your feet hurt. Wear too many patterns at once. Don't overthink things. Call your grandma every week. Be grateful for everything your parents have done for you. Be less annoyed when your dad worries that your not home yet, because you will always be his little girl. Work oh so hard, and when you are faced with a challenge welcome it with open arms. Be kind to everyone. Never let anyone say you can't do something, because darling you are so much stronger than you think, and this is just the beginning, you are about to do amazing things, and remember, the best is yet to come.

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genevievemd · 3 years

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The Newlywed Game: Round 11

A/N: Not gonna lie, I'm a little excited to answer my own questions lol As always, a huge thank you to our queen of the newlywed game, the icon that brought us Allensey, @jamespotterthefirst! Wedding Wednesday would not exist without you. Also, I best be seeing Allensey answer these, ma'am!

For Both:

1. Where did you go on your second date?

Genevieve: Our patient's art show, although we could count the opera, but I was sad and you were -- Ethan: No. Those were not dates, G. Gen: You asked me out, there for they're dates. Ethan: No, no, no. If we go by this logic, our first date would have been that time you followed me to Derry's and we people watched. Gen: Exactly. Ethan: *pinches the bridge of his nose* Our second date was the drive in theater in Meldon, they were playing grease. You wore your hair like Sandy in the beginning of the movie, it was cute. Gen: Had to be on theme. But let's be honest, we only watched like fifteen minutes of the movie, the rest of the time we made out in your car. Ethan: *smiles wide*

2. What is their pet name for you? Do you have a favorite? Do you have a least favorite?

Ethan: She calls me 'babe' most often, it's not my favorite. Gen: Let me guess, your favorite is chief? Ethan: No, it's not. It's "my love". You don't use it often, but when you do, the look in your eyes... it's my favorite, hands down. Gen: *heart eyes* Ethan uses a variety for me; darling, sweetheart, love, baby on the super rare occasion. Also, G, which didn't start as a pet name, but it's kind of turned into one. He's like one of the few people in the world that call me G, and that makes it special, too. Ethan: Which is your favorite, "baby"? Gen: Rookie, because it didn't come from my name, and it's not the usual pet name. It's just for me. Second favorite is "baby" because it's just *fan's self*. And no least favorite.

3. What is their silliest fear?

Gen: Interns. Ethan: I'm not afraid of interns! Gen: Social interaction? Ethan: Will you -- Gen: *smirks* Ethan: Her silliest fear is the dark. Gen: How is that silly? Lots of people are afraid of the dark. Ethan: Children, maybe. And it's a situational fear, you're completely fine in the dark in our home, but you're petrified of the dark outside. Gen: You can't see what's there! There could be a ghost or a zombie, or a creepy dude coming to kidnap me. Ethan: We live in a city, that's never dark enough for something to jump out of the shadows. Gen: Stop judging me, old man.

4. How often do you go on dates together? Do you think it’s enough or would you like to go out more often?

Gen: Once a week, we have a "date night". More often than not, though, it's just us making dinner and watching a movie or something. But it's a night where we put our phones in the other room and just spend time together. Ethan: We try to go physically out on a date every couple of weeks. Gen: And it's never enough. Ethan: I know, I need to get better at prioritizing our relationship. Gen: No, I meant, like, no matter what it'll never be enough. We could go on a date every night of the week and I'll still feel like it's not enough. You're my person, I wanna be with you all the time. Ethan: *looks at G like she hung the moon* I love you. Gen: I love you.

5. What was the first thing your spouse said after the proposal?

Gen: My name. Ethan: Because you were standing there, unmoving. I was getting concerned. Gen: Like I'd have said anything other than "yes". Besides, I was in a little bit of shock. But after that, I said yes. And then "I love you." And then -- Ethan: I have to call my mom. But that came hours later.

6. If you were forced to marry one of your exes, who would it be?

Ethan: What exactly is the point of this question? Gen: To make you jealous. I'd marry my first boyfriend, Patrick. He's one of the sweetest guys in the world. Ethan: You answered that way too quick. He's the one I met during your second year, correct? The one visiting his sister? Gen: Yes, that was Patrick. Ethan: *grumbles* Gen: *laughs* Your turn. Ethan: No one. I never even considered marriage until you. Gen: Okay, but you're being forced, therefore, you have to pick someone. Harper? Ethan: No, Camila. Gen: Seriously? Ethan: Seriously. Harper and I, we were great and all, but that was situational, convenient. Camila I had rather deep feelings for, and she's an incredible doctor and woman. I'd pick her. Gen: *pouts* Okay, you're right, I don't like this question, it's stupid. Ethan: *laughs then kisses her cheek* Don't worry, love, I'm sure Tobias would steal her from me again.

Bonus Round:

Speaking of exes, describe each of your spouse’s exes using three words only. Go!

Gen: Cam; smart, philanthropic, inspiring. Harper; intelligent, beautiful, iconic. Anna; funny, compassionate, cheerful. I'm only naming those three, because they're your most serious relationships. If I name all the woman you dated for less than two weeks, we'd be here for like another ten minutes. Ethan: I feel insulted. Gen: Your turn. Ethan: Patrick; polite, lack-luster, tall. Jackson; rude, unintelligent, vain. Ryan; narcissistic, vacuous, cowardly, cruel, predatory -- Gen: Three, babe, they said three. Ethan: Fine, moving on. Nate: small-minded, cynical, disorganized. Gen: How is Nate small-minded? He's a doctor, who works at the Mayo Clinic. Ethan: Because he refused to be sympathetic or understanding to your trauma from Ryan. Therefore, he's small-minded. And a whole host of other words. Gen: *giggles* You hate all of my exes. Ethan: Not all of them, Rookie. I don't hate Patrick. Gen: Fine.

That last one was so fun to do. I love over-protective-hates everyone Ethan. Someday, I'll write the fic where he meets Patrick, takes place like right before the attack in book 2.

(tagging separately because that seems to be the only way tags work lately)

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #the newlywed game #ethan x gen

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tomtenadia · 3 years

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A Little Braver - Chapter 15

It’s Monday and as promised the new chapter of the adventures of east station is here. This one is angsty. Our Aelin is dealing with the aftermath of her nearly death at the airport fire. She tries to be brave but fails.

Oh, yeah, Dorian is a cinnamon roll.

CW: PTSD, panic attacks and language.

The gif as a header is silly. it was just to lighten the mood before the chapter. it was desk job and fire and the scene in the IT CROWD where Moss deals with a fire on his desk is hilarious.

Hope you will enjoy.

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

The following morning Aelin was, for once, the first one to wake up and she felt giddy. The doctors had given her the all clear to go back to work. It was desk for duty only and had recommended to take it easy for the first week back. She was excited at the idea of wearing her uniform once more and be back with the rest of her squad. She had missed them all. Their banter, their company.

She looked at Rowan still asleep and giggled. It was so unusual for her to wake up before him. Had it been his day off, she would have let him sleep but he had to go to work as well so she had decided to wake him up in a special way. She got off the bed, walked to his side, then took a step backward and finally jumped and landed on him.

“What the heck?” he roared, grabbed her and turned in a very swift motion caging her in between his arms with his body towering on her.

“I am your new alarm clock,” she smiled looking up at him.

“Worst alarm ever.” His legs trapped hers as well so that Aelin was fully blocked under him.

“What if I was am naked? Still a bad alarm?”

His hands sneaked down her body and Aelin was getting ready for them to make her a happy and satisfied woman, but they stilled and a moment later he started tickling her.

She whimpered and tried to wiggle free from his grasp but Rowan was relentless and she was now screaming for him to stop and shaking her head wildly, blond hair flowing everywhere.

“Rowan, please.” She shouted when she reached a point in which she could not take it anymore.

He finally stopped, realising he had punished her enough but never moved away from her.

“Enjoying the view, captain?” She mused at his strange expression.

“You are stunning,” he whispered dropping a kiss on her lips “you have no idea, but when you smile you can seriously give a man a heart attack.” His voice now gruff with lust.

She looked down at his strained briefs and grinned “not just that apparently.”

Aelin pulled up on her elbows and begged for a kiss “we can have some morning fun in bed, or we can use the shower and save some time.”

A second later she was airborne and Rowan was carrying her to the bathroom “I love the way you think, captain.”

The shower took much, much longer than they had planned. Both of them were now running around the bedroom grabbing pieces of clothing to get ready to go to work.

“Totally worth it.” She told him while pulling up her jeans.

He leaned over while tying his tie and kissed her “so, so worth it.”

“How do you feel?”

“Giddy, to be honest.” She confessed ignoring the pang of nervousness that she had been feeling since the day before. She wanted to go back, but deep down a part of her was panicking at the idea, but she had not mentioned that to Rowan. He would fuss unnecessarily and she was done staying at home and be a patient.

She took a deep breath and wore her hoodie.

“Are you going to finish as normal tonight?” Rowan turned to her, while wearing his jacket.

“Yes, I will be doing a normal nine till five for now. Aedion knows. A part from paperwork I am useless.”

He heard the pang of sadness in her voice and walked to her to hug her “you will go back. You just need to be patient, Fireheart.”

She sighed and her arms went around his waist to steady her “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No,” replied Aelin shaking her head “no, I will be fine,” but from the tone Rowan knew she was not. Something was nagging at her and he feared she was putting a mask on. He sighed and blamed it on his crazy need to fuss about her.

Together they left the house and he accompanied to her car. And that alarm bell rang again in his head when he noticed the smallest hesitation in her.

“Text me, call me if you need anything.” He kissed her, cupping her face in his hands “I love you, captain.”

“Of course, who wouldn’t?” She gave him a tight smile and kissed him back “I will see you tonight.”

Aelin had been driving for a good ten minutes when she pulled over and got out of the car and on the pavement very quickly, feeling sick. Leaning against the car door, she felt her heart racing madly in her chest and she felt like she could not breathe.

“Are you okay, miss?” Asked a passerby noting her distress.

“I am okay.” She managed breathlessly “thank you.”

Slowly she moved back in the car and sat back at the wheel but did not move. Just closed her eyes and waited for the queasiness to pass. One long deep breath after the other and she started regaining a bit of sanity and eventually started the car and drove to work.

She left her car along the pavement as usual then got out and took a step onto the apparatus floor. Both engine and truck and the ambulance were still there. She took another step then froze and noticed her hands shaking. What was wrong with her?

The yard was empty but she knew the crew was going to be on shift, they were probably all having breakfast together as they were used to do when they started a shift in the morning.

She looked at the trucks and almost fell sick again. A part of her wanted to turn around and run and she almost did it if it hadn’t been for Brullo’s cheery voice “cap,” he shouted, walked to her and crushed her in a bear hug.”You are back, we missed you so much.” He let her go and grabbed her hand “come on, we are all in the kitchen having breakfast. This is going to be an amazing surprise.” Aelin nodded and followed him. Her heart racing in her chest so much it hurt.

Once in the kitchen the noise that erupted as soon as she stepped in was deafening,

Everyone ran to her for a hug or to ask her questions, Ress gave her back her captain hard hat and she tried very hard to smile, to look happy while instead the emotions were too much for her to bear. She pulled away joking that she needed to breath and for some reason she had to fight tears from falling.

“Hi guys.” She did her best to sound as steady as possible.

Aedion got to her side and ruffled her hair and her mind remembered that he was the one who found her almost dead in the inferno that had been the airport crash.

She felt sick again. This was all too much.

“I am back,” she said, giving them a tight smile her.

Aedion seemed to notice her distress and pulled her closer in a hug “finish your breakfast everyone, then you know your duties for the morning. It’s Aelin’s first day back. Let the woman breathe.”

Aelin kissed Aedion on the cheek “thank you, I missed you all, but that was a lot.”

“We have plenty of breakfast, would you like some?”

She nodded. She and Rowan had been too busy having fun that it had been too late for him to make breakfast, something he had complained about quite loudly. He was very strict with her meals and always made sure she ate. He had been incredible and since he had started living with her she had fallen for him even more. They had even stopped fighting. They bickered, but that was fun. She thought about him and in that instant she realised that his arms around her would be the only way to calm the panic rising in her. He grounded her.

Aedion passed her a plate with some breakfast and she took a bite, ignoring the protests of her stomach.

Once it was just the two of them Aedion finally took the courage to speak to her “are you okay?”

She knew she would struggle to lie to him “you know you can talk to me, right?”

Aelin stood “I have a lot to catch up to,” and walked away, ignoring Aedion completely.

Once in her office she slammed the door shut and walked to her desk. It was covered in mail and few notes from Aedion. He had been acting captain while she had been off. She turned on the pc and spent a good hour going through all her emails.

Marcus had sent her a few articles about the incident at the airport and had highlighted the parts about her. One of the articles had an aerial picture of the disaster and as she saw it, she stood and moved away from her desk. Her breath became laboured and dizziness and nausea came back. She went to the sofa and sat down, taking her head in her hands. In that instant she heard someone knocking at the door and stood quickly “come in,” she said trying to sound herself.

Lysandra’s head popped in “hi, you. Can I come in? Are you busy?”

Aelin motioned to join her on the sofa.

“How does it feel to be back?”

Terrifying. Aelin wanted to say “a bit overwhelmed, there is so much I have to catch up that I don’t know where to start so I am just sitting on the sofa and hope work will complete itself.” Good, let’s put her usual swagger on.

“Aedion tried to keep everything as you left it and did as much as he could. He hated it. He kept saying that the place behind that desk was not his. We all missed you so much, but he is the one who missed you the most and not just because of the acting captain thing.”

“I missed you all as well.” At least she didn’t have to lie about that.

“How is it going with the captain? Is he still living at your place?”

Aelin nodded “yes, we are fine. We even stopped fighting. He is wonderful and he helped me a lot.”

Lysandra smiled “so you two are shacking up officially?”

“We haven’t discussed the matter, to be honest.”

“But you are happy with him.” Asked Lys tenderly, who was very happy to see her friend letting her fears aside.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Lysandra clapped her hands “don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

Aelin rolled her eyes “too early for that, don’t you think?”

Lys was about to reply but dispatch alarm went off calling for the ambulance “that’s my clue to go.”

The woman stood and disappeared through the door and Aelin sighed heavily then ran to the bathroom and was sick. She sat on the cold floor for a good ten minutes, her head against the stall’s wall. Then she heard voices, left the stall, washed her face and tried to act normal to avoid suspicion.

“Hello, captain” Ansel’s cheery voice reached her.

“How are you doing?”

“Amazing. I am due to go and help Luca with training in a moment. The kiddo has his exam in two weeks.”

She felt a smile reach her lips “that is wonderful news.”

“The whole squad has been taking turns helping him with training. We are positive he will crush it. He got really good.”

“Good, just… look after him once out there.”

Ansel patted her shoulder “always. We always look after each other.” And the woman winked at her and walked away leaving Aelin alone once again.

Aelin splashed her face with cold water and walked back to her office determined to get some work done.

She was in the middle of finishing some report when someone else knocked at the door and Dorian appeared “hi, you.”

Aedion had told her how broken he had been when they thought she was a goner.

Her hands started trembling again but she hid them under the desk.

“Good morning, chief. I was not expecting you.”

“I just wanted to pop in and see how you were.”

“Your emails and reports are what’s gonna kill me.”

For a moment she noticed a flicker of pain flash in his eyes “just ignore them.”

Aelin shook her head “emails and reports are the reason I am at work today. That’s all I can do for the foreseeable future.”

“You know why.” He said softly.

“I know chief,” she said in a harsher tone than what she wanted “it doesn’t cancel the fact that at the moment I am useless as a firefighter and replying to emails and finalise million of reports is all I can do. Guess they don’t teach you that at the academy.”

He moved a step to her “Aelin, I know how you feel just now. I have been there myself and I hated every minute of it.”

Aelin sighed and calmed down. During his time as captain at west he got badly injured and after he got back to work he had been assigned on desk duty for three months. She was still a candidate at his station but remembered how miserable the man had been.

“How are you? Mentally. We do have support if you are struggling.”

Aelin run a hand through her hair. She knew. The counsellor had already been in touch with her. It was protocol for them to go through counselling and help in case of a traumatic incident.

“I am fine.”

“Aelin, you almost died.” He said through gritted teeth.

She stood “I know. I was there. The roof collapsed on me. I was the one who almost asphyxiated in that bloody inferno. I know.” She snarled at him.

“Have you spoken to the counsellor?”

“Not yet.”

Dorian sat down in front of her and Aelin was annoyed at the fact that he was going stay longer than she hoped.

“Aelin— ”

“Don’t” she stopped him “don’t use that patronising tone with me, chief. I know the rules. I will make an appointment with him.”

“So,” he continued, enjoying himself “how is it going with your captain?”

“Fine.” She replied, leaning back in her chair and twinning her hands under her chin.

He smirked “are you friends already?”

Aelin rolled her eyes “as if you don’t know that we are more than that.”

He raised his hands in a yielding gesture “just checking. You and Aedion did a good job with the airforce. I had Commodore Salvaterre singing the praises of the two of you.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open “Lorcan. That Lorcan actually praised us.”

Dorian nodded.

Aelin texted Rowan very quickly. His reply came back within seconds: are we talking about the same man?

She showed Dorian Rowan’s reply “see? Rowan can’t believe it either.”

“Well, he did.”

Aelin shrugged “fine, I’ll believe you.”

“Good,” he finally stood “I’ll leave you to your emails. Just please talk to the counsellor, okay?”

“Yes, chief.”

Dorian smiled at her and left and Aelin let out a very long breath. She was finally alone again and hoped no one would go in her office again. She loved them all, deeply and she missed them but she felt so out of sorts that even interacting with them was getting difficult.

The dispatch alarm went off again and this time it was for engine and truck. She stood and quickly went to where they were parked and from a corner looked at her team go away without her. Once they were gone she leaned against the wall and sobbed so hard that she ended up sitting on the floor for a moment. Then she stood and slowly walked away. She reached the room where they kept all their gear and walked in, finding it empty as the guys were on a call and her gear was the only one present.

With one hand she touched her new jacket. Her old one had been damaged in the fire. It smelled wrong. That was the first thing she noticed and it was pristine, with no marks, and she hated it. With her fingers she brushed the letters at the bottom saying captain Galathynius. She sat in a corner and hugged her legs to her chest and hid in the empty room for a while. Then all of a sudden she stood and ran back to her office, grabbed all of her belongings, switched off the computer and all the lights and ran back to her car.

Fifteen minutes later she was back home, very quickly she got to the closet she shared with Rowan, grabbed her blue duffel bag and started shoving clothes in it. Then grabbed a few other items from the room and ran outside back to her car.

A moment later she started driving north, not having an idea where she was going. She just aimed for the mountains. She needed to be away from everything. She had tried to be brave and go back to work, and ignored the truth in front of her. She was not ready. She had been stubborn and convinced herself and probably the doctors as well that she was, but the whole morning had been the proof that she had gone back too early. In reality she had been terrified since the moment she had left the house. The station had reminded her of what happened at the airport. Reminded that hers had almost been the next funeral. That the bell had almost rang for her.

Tears began flowing and eventually she had to pull over, the tears not allowing her to see the road properly. She was not okay and she felt lost. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt like she was going insane.

Eventually, Aelin went back to driving and remembered that Lys had once mentioned holiday cottages in the mountains. She pulled over again and took out her phone to search for the place. Once she got it she set her sat nav and went back to driving. She arrived half an hour later and was impressed by the location of the place. It was in the heart of the Staghorns mountains and it felt like the most peaceful place on Earth. Once she was better she definitely had to take Rowan there.

She parked the car at the guest car park and got inside the reception, got herself a cottage for a week and drove to her allocated house. It was perfect.

She parked the car, grabbed her bag from the trunk and walked in.

The cottage was all in wood and was gorgeous. She noticed the fireplace and flinched at the massive fire hazard. Her bag landed on the floor and she then curled on the bed. The next thing she did was to switch off her phone.

Aedion and the squad got back to the station over an hour later and the first sign he had that something was wrong was that all the lights were off. Aelin was supposed to be there. He jumped off the truck, gave some orders to the two teams and walked to Aelin’s office. Once in he noticed it was empty “Aelin?” He called.

“Why all the light were off?” Asked Lysandra joining him.

“Aelin is not here.” He replied quietly.

“I thought she was staying until five.” Added the woman.

Aedion kept walking around the station as if in search of a clue of her whereabouts. He went to check the captain’s private quarters but they were empty.

“No sign of her anywhere,” said Lysandra joining him again.

Aedion took out his phone and tried to call her. He looked at Lysandra and shook his head.

“What if something happened?” Lys whispered. They were keeping the news to themselves for now. Let the other think she had gone home early.

“Ae, she was not okay. I spoke to her and she pretended to be fine but I saw the mask. She was just putting her usual bravado for us.”

Aedion sighed heavily “I know. She avoided talking to me and Dorian told me the same thing. She is not well and the fact that she is gone worries me immensely.”

“You are her cousin, dammit, you should have pushed her.” Lysandra said through gritted teeth.

“You know better than me that it doesn’t work with her.”

Lysandra groaned in frustration “call the captain. Call him and see if she is there.”

Aedion pulled his phone out of his pocket once again and called Rowan.

“Hello Lieutenant.”

“Captain…” he took a deep breath “I was wondering if Aelin is there at the base with you.”

“No, why would she? She told me she was going to work.” Rowan’s panic rose a notch.

“She was here this morning, but when we came back from a call, she was gone. I thought she came to see you.”

“Are you telling me that you have no idea of where she is?”

“Yes, captain.”

Rowan swore “I will be there in fifteen.” And he hang up.

Aedion looked at Lysandra “he was not happy.”

“Fuck.”

Rowan marched into the fire station not long after. Aedion directed him to a quiet area of the station and Lysandra followed.

“Where is she?” Asked Rowan as soon as they were away from everyone.

“We don’t know. She is not here, but she was when we left.”

Rowan started pacing back and forth nervously “was she okay while she was here?”

Aedion shook his head “She didn’t tell me but I know she was not well. I tried to talk but I had no luck.”

Rowan leaned against the table, hands on the wooden surface “She is not. She has been suffering from nightmares and panic attacks. She is not sleeping well either.” He explained “I suggested plenty of times to talk to someone, you guys have counsellors, right?”

Aedion nodded.

“I told her to delay her return to work by a week. She was giddy this morning, but I could feel there was something wrong, it bugged me the whole morning.” He ran a hand through his hair “I should have told her to stay at home. I just believed her.”

Aedion placed a hand on his shoulder “She does that. She did the same after Sam died. She put up a wall and pretended she was fine. Fooled us all until she just broke down completely.”

“Well, I would like to avoid for her to break down this time if possible.” Rowan growled back. All the signs were there and like an idiot he had believed her. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the universe.

“Any idea of where she could have gone? Any friends anywhere else?”

Aedion shook his head.

Rowan grabbed his phone and tried to call her and desperation hit him when it did not connect “Aelin it’s me. Pleas call me when you hear this. I beg you. Where are you? Everyone is worried. I love you.”

“I’ll go home and see if she is there or if there are any clues of where she could have gone.”

“We are still on shift until tomorrow morning, keep me updated, please.” Said Aedion with a broken voice.

“I will. And you will let me know if you have any luck or think of any places she might be?”

“We will,” said Lysandra, grabbing Aedion’s arm.

Rowan nodded and disappeared.

Twenty minutes later he was at their place, but the house was empty. He walked around the house but it looked exactly like they had left it in the morning.

“Where are you?” He whispered.

He opened their closet and in an instant he noticed something missing: her blue duffel bag.

“Shit.” Some of her clothes had gone as well.

He grabbed his phone.

“Captain?”

“I think she is gone.” Rowan’s voice was filled with deep panic.

“I thought we established that.”

“No, Aedion. She left. Her duffel bag is missing and some of her clothes are gone too. She must have come home and packed because they were here this morning.”

“What do we do?”

Rowan sat on the bed, his head in his hand, while with the other he held the phone “I have no idea.” He felt useless and in utter fear.

“I think it’s bad. She did not flee after she lost Sam. She was broken but never left. Whatever it is, we need to find her soon.”

“How?” Roared Rowan “How the fuck am I supposed to find her if we don’t have any idea?”

“I don’t think we can until she wants to be found.”

Rowan wanted to scream.

He was going insane.

***

It was four days later and Aelin was sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom sobbing loudly. She just had four days from hell. The nightmares had been relentless and she was now so scared of falling asleep that she had stopped sleeping altogether. She had started surviving on coffee but that had the horrible side effect of increasing her panic attacks.

Slowly she tried to stand, she washed her face and made her way back in bed. The last panic attack had left her a wreck and she felt like she was losing her mind.

Her stomach growled but she could not eat. She had bought some meals to heat up in the microwave, but she was struggling to keep food down.

She ignored the pangs of hunger and curled under the blankets, shaking like a leaf.

She woke up an hour later with a terrible scream leaving her lungs. She sat in bed and patted her body, realising she was not on fire. That was the recurring nightmare. Her body on fire, the flames engulfing her as the ceiling collapsed on her over and over again and the horrifying smell of her skin burning. And then the feeling of suffocation. She would always wake up gasping for air.

Slowly she calmed herself down and her breathing went back to normal. She was drenched in sweat so she stood and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Once under the jets she let herself relax and think of happy memories. Of happier showers she had shared with Rowan. And then guilt hit her. She had left. She had just disappeared. No notes, nothing.

He must be going insane. It had been four days and she could picture him mad with grief.

She should have never left. She should have accepted his help.

Gods, she missed him so much. The tears came back in force and leaned her head against the wall. She felt so, so lost.

Aelin sat down in the shower floor and pulled her legs to her chest and cried until she felt spent and exhausted and had no tears left to shed. Eventually she found the strength to leave the shower wear clean clothes and sit back in bed.

With trembling hands she grabbed her phone and switched it on. A barrage of notifications hit the device. She read all the texts from Rowan. There was no fury from him, just love and support and a plea to come back to him. Her chest felt tight in pain. She had let him down so much. How could she face him again? After all his support since she woke up in a hospital bed how could she flee from him instead of begging for his help? A help she clearly needed. She had lied to herself. She was fine, she had told herself over and over again. But she was not. Not even remotely close to it.

She listened to her voicemails from Rowan and Aedion and her cousin sounded far more furious than Rowan.

She started typing a message to Rowan but stopped and started a few times. What could she tell him? I am a mess, why bother with me? She shook her head and deleted the message again.

Then she had her answer.

I am sorry.

-----------

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