randomshitwhore

21 • neurodivergent i post random shit that i hyper fixate on

[randomshitwhore]

randomshitwhore's materlist

Request/Ask :)

welcome to my master list! this is where you can see all my works and check to see when new ones are going to be released!

works that are in a series with each character will be colored red (they'll usually be separated by a request if there become too many series in a character tab). works that were requested will be labeled as such.

❤-fluff ⚡-angst ☠-smut

Call Of Duty

Simon "Ghost" Riley -------------------- Negative Ghost(rider) ❤

Affirmative Ghost(rider) ☠ Eye to Eye ⚡ {request} Keegan P. Russ --------------- Time To Earn the Mask Philip Graves --------------- Classified Intel John "Soap" MacTavish ---------------------- All I Want For Christmas {XMAS SPECIAL}

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson ------------- Project Partners(you'll find links to the other parts through this one :))

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Cigarettes and feelings

Jack Abbot X Fem!medstudent!Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, overheard conversation, making out in the workplace, physical intimacy (kissing/touching), sharing a cigarette as foreplay, med student/resident dynamic, age gap (hinted at), no use of y/n

Word count: 3.9K The Pitt masterlist

a/n: i need this man to need me as much as i need him (it's a lot you guys, i need him a lot 🫠)

“Those things will kill you, you know?”

You don’t even have to turn to know it’s him — you can tell just by his voice.

A soft smile spreads across your face as Jack comes up beside you. You take a drag, releasing the smoke into the night sky before finally glancing over at him.

“You gonna tell on me to the patients?”

Jack lets out a soft chuckle, lips curving into that sideways smile of his.

“Not if you let me bum one off you.”

You grin at that, hand moving to grab the pack from your scrub pocket. You open it, a soft shit leaving your lips when you realize it’s empty.

“Sorry, Jack. This was the last one.”

Jack just shakes his head, waving it off like it’s no big deal.

“Probably for the best.”

You bite your lip for a moment, glancing down at the cigarette still burning between your fingers.

“We can share,” you say, pausing when Jack looks at you, brow slightly raised. “If you don’t mind swapping spit, I mean.” Your voice drops into a teasing smile.

Jack’s eyes move from your outstretched hand — the one holding the cigarette out to him — up to your face, lingering on your lips for a split second.

“I mean…” Jack huffs a soft laugh, eyes flicking to your mouth before he can stop himself. “Yeah. I’d love to swap spit with you.”

The line lands halfway between teasing and absolutely sincere — the kind of thing he says lightly, but his voice betrays the honesty beneath it.

He stares at you a little too long. It’s that quiet, loaded stare that makes you wonder if he knows exactly what those words are doing to you, or if he’s just being his usual cheeky self. 

When his fingers brush yours as he takes the cigarette, skin bumping against skin, you almost visibly shudder. And when he doesn’t break eye contact as he lifts it to his mouth and takes a drag, you have to physically stop yourself from whining.

If this had been anyone else—literally anyone else—you wouldn’t be reacting like this. Wouldn’t feel your pulse jump every time Jack’s fingers grazed yours as he passed the cigar back. Wouldn’t let your gaze linger on his lips as he took another drag. Wouldn’t feel that sudden rush of heat sweeping through your body.

Because the truth was that you wanted him. Wanted him for longer than you’d cared to admit.

It wasn’t clear when the crush started.

Maybe it was the first time you noticed his stupidly strong forearms while he showed you how to place an IV. Or maybe it was the proud smile he gave you after you managed a difficult procedure without his help. You didn’t know exactly when it began—but you remembered the day you realized it clearly.

The realization hit you during one of your many night shifts together. Things had been normal enough until you told a joke—just something stupid that made you smile—and Jack had laughed so hard he had to brace a hand on your shoulder. His hand was warm. Even through the barrier of your scrubs, you felt the heat radiating against your skin.

It was enough to make you walk away and splash cold water on your face like some teenager.

Oh, and to make matters about a thousand times worse? This man is a fucking silver fox. The gray in his beard, the streaks in his hair — they ruin you. Completely. You spend entire hours pretending you’re not staring at his jawline or the way his curls cling to his forehead after a particularly rough shift.

So sharing a cigarette with him?

Yeah. Sure. Why not?

Let’s just add fuel to the entire bonfire already burning in your chest. Great idea.

You try to play it cool. You really do. But your brain is doing laps around the fact that you’re basically mouth-kissing him by proxy. Every time you take the cigarette back, it feels more intimate than it has any right to.

Jack exhales his next drag to the side, slow and controlled, and his eyes flick down to your lips again before he looks back up. And that look alone makes you almost do something reckless. Almost.

“Jack! Hey—Jack, we need you inside!”

You both jolt a little at the shout coming from the double doors. It’s one of the new nurses, out of breath, waving him over.

Jack gives you a look that says duty calls without needing a single word, then hands the cigarette back to you before jogging inside. And just like that, you’re alone again in the cool night air.

You stay frozen for a moment, staring at the space where he’d been, trying to convince your heart to stop beating so loudly you can practically hear it in your skull. A tiny piece of the cigarette crumbles and lands on your finger, burning you just enough to snap you out of it.

“Ow.” You wince, staring down at the cigarette still between your fingers, its ember glowing steady and uncaring.

You lift your hand like you're about to flick it to the ground—but pause. Instead, you take one last drag, slow and unsteady, before snubbing it out and making your way back into the ER.

The lights inside feel too bright after the quiet outside. The hum of monitors, distant beeping, clipped conversations — all of it blends together, but your pulse hasn’t settled. You’re still replaying Jack’s fingers brushing yours like some kind of masochist.

You head toward the nurses' station, pretending you’re totally normal, totally composed, totally not about to combust. 

Jack’s bent over a chart, forearm flexed as he scribbles something. His hair is a little mussed from running back inside. And when he glances up and spots you walking in, the small smile he gives you is so soft you feel it in your knees.

“Thought you’d ditched me,” he says lightly.

You roll your eyes, desperately ignoring the way your stomach flips.

“As if you’d survive two hours without me.”

He chuckles — that stupid, warm, fond sound — and your heart does that annoying skip again.

You want to stick with him, want to trail behind him just so you can keep an eye on him as he works. Just to watch him a little more. Unfortunately, you don’t get your wish, because before you know it, you’re both being called to help with different cases.

“Fate seems to like separating us today,” you joke, not expecting anything from it.

“Seems like it,” Jack answers, giving you one last look before starting toward where he’s needed. “It’s rather unfortunate.”

You don’t have time to answer him before he steps behind a curtain, but the smile that spreads across your face could probably blind someone with its brightness.

Things had been going smoothly for most of the rest of the shift. Even without seeing Jack, you’d been able to handle your patients with quiet confidence, checking vitals, giving instructions, and managing small procedures with precision.

You felt confident. Sure of yourself. And then something changed.

You were in the middle of assisting with a minor procedure, improvising slightly to keep the patient comfortable, when a sharp voice cut through the hum of the ER.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Dr. Emery Walsh’s tone was crisp, deliberate.

You froze for half a second too long. “I… I just—”

“This is not how this procedure is supposed to be done. You don’t have the authority to make these changes,” she continued, her eyes narrowing.

Your stomach sank, heat rushing to your cheeks. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words seemed to vanish.

And then — unexpectedly — a familiar presence loomed at your shoulder.

“Emery,” Jack said, calm but firm, his voice carrying in a way that made everyone stop. “She made the right call.”

You blinked. Jack? You hadn’t even realized he was anywhere nearby. You hadn’t seen him in a while, so you’d assumed he was busy with patients or with some other med student.

“She’s still learning, yes,” Jack continued, eyes locking on Emery with an intensity you hadn’t expected from him, “but in this moment, what she did kept the patient safe and prevented further complications. I stand by her.”

Your heart jumped — not only because of his words, but because he was defending you. Jack, who never seemed to have an issue with anyone and always acted as if everything was fine, was actively defending you to another doctor.

Emery raised an eyebrow, clearly weighing whether to argue, but Jack’s gaze was unwavering, commanding. “Understood,” she said finally, a slight edge of respect creeping into her tone. “Make sure you document it properly.”

Jack’s attention shifted back to you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Come on,” he murmured quietly, just for you. “Let’s finish up before I have to chew someone else out.”

You exhaled a shaky laugh, feeling a mix of relief, disbelief, and something else entirely — the kind of rush you only got when Jack Abbott was with you. 

You walked through the ER, eyes scanning the place for Jack. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t see him anywhere, shoulders lifting in a moment of worry. Maybe he had already left. But he hadn’t said goodbye—and Jack always said goodbye. That meant he was probably still here, hidden somewhere you couldn’t see him.

You were halfway down the hall when a familiar pair of voices stopped you in your tracks. One was unmistakably Jack, calm but laced with that edge you’d come to recognize. The other… Robby.

A small smile lifted on your face—you were glad to have found Jack so you could give him a proper goodbye. But just as you were about to turn the corner and step into their field of vision, one of them said something that made you freeze.

“So, how’s it going with your girl?” Robby asked.

You could hear Jack sigh softly.

“I told you she’s not my girl.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Robby replied, his tone clearly sarcastic.

Your chest constricted. His girl. Jack had someone. And it wasn’t you. 

Of course you should have seen it—he was handsome, charming, older, it was likely he already had someone outside of the ER. But… what about all those little moments? The glances, the grazing of skin, the flirty words, the long stares? Had your brain been distorting everything, making you think your feelings were mutual?

Your back leaned against the wall, a soft frown tugging at your lips as you told yourself Jack didn’t share your feelings. Just as you were about to push off and leave the ER before breaking down in the hallway, Jack said something else.

“I almost told her,” he sighed. “A couple hours ago… we were sharing a cigar—”

“I thought you quit smoking?” Robby interrupted.

“I said I’d try. Anyway, that’s not what’s important right now. She gave me this look, brother… I swear to God, I almost pulled her into a kiss right there in the ambulance bay.”

Your heart stutters. It hits you all at once—he’s talking about you.

“Maybe you should have gone for it then,” Robby says, and you hear Jack scoff in return, lowering his voice.

“…Come on, Robby,” Jack says, voice low and careful, but impossible to ignore. “You know I can’t do anything about it. That would be… highly unethical. I mean, you, of all people, should be telling me not to go for it.”

Robby chuckles softly, the sound carrying just enough to make your stomach twist. “Man…I’m the worst person to give advice on something like this. You should know that by now.”

You don’t know exactly what Robby means, but it’s clear Jack does, because you hear him let out a laugh—an incredulous, yet somehow relieved sound. You’re so caught up in the realization that Jack likes you that you almost forget you’re hiding, like some weirdo, listening to them talk. At any moment, they could turn the corner and catch you.

As if to remind you of reality, you hear footsteps and voices drawing closer. Panicking, you dart in the opposite direction, nearly running into a couple of nurses who give you strange glances as you rush past.

Jack’s been wandering around for a while now. After his conversation with Robby, he remembered he needed to say goodbye to you before leaving, but he was having a hard time finding you. He was starting to think you’d already gone home, just as you walked out of one of the rooms. 

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you,” Jack says the moment your eyes find his.

Your eyes widen a little as he walks toward you, the words he’d said to Robby echoing in your mind. Your heart flutters at the soft grin he gives, and you can’t help but return it.

“Good. Because I need you.”

He blinks—a small, subtle shift—but you notice it. Jack always reacts the most when he says nothing at all.

“Need me for what?” he asks, standing before you. 

“Our last patient,” you say. 

His brow furrows. “Our shift ended thirty minutes ago.”

“I know,” you reply, a corner of your mouth twitching. “Come on.”

You step back into the room you’d just slipped out of. Jack follows after you, glancing up at the number on the door before stepping inside.

“I didn’t know we had any patients… here.”

His words trail off as his eyes land on the empty bed. Then they move to you—standing beside it, hands fidgeting together.

“Well, you’re right. We don’t have a patient here.” You try to sound calm, but your voice betrays you, thin with nerves.

Jack’s brows pull together immediately, worry flashing across his face as he moves toward you with purpose. He takes hold of your arms, warm hands wrapping gently around them, and your gaze snaps to where he’s touching you.

“Hey,” he says softly, steady as ever. “Look at me.”

You lift your eyes to his, stomach flipping at the tender, searching expression there.

“Is everything okay? You seem nervous. Did something happen? You know you can talk to me, right?”

You almost feel bad. It’s clear that your nervousness is making Jack worry. But you can’t bring yourself to speak just yet. You stare at him as he tilts his head slightly, questioning you with a soft raise of his brows.

A small smile creeps onto your face, and you bite your lip, trying to contain it. You fail miserably, of course—you can tell just from the look of surprise on Jack’s face. Your gaze flicks from his eyes to his lips. It’s quick, but Jack catches it.

“God, this is ridiculous,” you say with a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I have no problem looking at someone’s internal organs, but the second you stare at me like that my brain just… short-circuits.”

Jack’s brows pull together in surprise, his hands still resting firmly on your forearms. He doesn’t even seem aware he’s gripping you a little tighter. Truth is, he’s nervous too—he’s always a little nervous around you—but there’s something different in the air now. Charged. Inevitable. It makes him a little unsteady in a way he’s not used to.

You inhale slowly, eyes sliding shut for a beat as you try to steady yourself before forcing your gaze back up to his. You let your eyes trace the shape of his face, lingering longer than you probably should, committing every detail to memory. And then—because pretending isn’t sustainable anymore, because wanting him is starting to feel like a physical ache—you speak.

“I overheard you talking with Robby.”

Jack’s eyes widen just slightly, enough to tell you he knows exactly what part you heard.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask quietly. And when he gives you that look—confused, thrown—you clarify. “Kiss me, I mean. Why didn’t you kiss me?”

Jack’s face shifts—surprise, relief, embarrassment, something warm and unguarded flickering all at once. By the time he settles, he looks… happy. A little shy, even. Jack Abbott. Shy. Wild.

He avoids your gaze, which only makes you poke a finger gently against his scrub top, right over his chest.

“So?” you whisper, looking up through your lashes.

A soft flush creeps over Jack’s cheeks, something you’ve never seen on him before.

“Wasn’t sure if you wanted me to, I guess,” he says quietly, his thumbs brushing your arms without him seeming aware of it.

You let out a sound—half laugh, half breathless disbelief. His head snaps up at the noise, eyes catching on the grin spreading across your face.

“Jack, I literally made a joke about swapping spit.”

“Yeah, I know,” he mutters, flustered, “but I wasn’t sure if it was just… you know. A joke.”

You shake your head softly and press your palm to his chest, letting the weight of his words settle. You stand there for a long moment, holding onto each other, not quite sure who’s going to push this over the edge.

“If you had been sure,” you say finally, “would you have done it then?”

Jack’s lips twitch, that signature sideways grin threatening to break free. One of his hands slides up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before settling gently against your cheek. His thumb sweeps once across your skin. You know the look on your face is dangerously close to love-struck, but honestly? You can’t bring yourself to care. You want him—you’ve wanted him—and from the warmth in his eyes, he feels exactly the same.

“Yes,” Jack murmurs. “If I was sure, I’d have done it without a second thought.”

You step closer, breath brushing his lips. Close—so damn close—just waiting for him to meet you halfway.

“I want you to,” you whisper, barely audible.

“What was that?” he teases, even though he absolutely heard you.

You narrow your eyes at him, all mock annoyance. Your hand fists in his scrubs, pulling him down just enough.

“I said,” you breathe, moving until your nose nudges his, “I want you to.”

The sound Jack makes is practically ripped from him—a low, involuntary groan, the kind a man makes when patience has officially left the building.

Then his mouth is on yours—urgent, hungry, finally.

Your arms loop around his neck instantly, pulling him flush against you. His hands slide to your waist, hauling you in until your chest is pressed to his. You bury your fingers in his curls as he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing your lips in a question you answer without hesitation.

Jack kisses you like he’s been waiting months for permission. His hand cups your jaw, the other gripping your waist firmly enough that you feel grounded and dizzy at the same time. You let out a small sound into his mouth and Jack responds by pulling you impossibly closer, like he’s worried you’ll vanish if he loosens his hold.

His tongue slides against yours, slow but sure, confident but still a little shaky around the edges in that way that only he ever is with you. You feel his breath catch when you tug gently on his curls, and the soft groan he lets slip sends a shiver through your entire body.

It’s messy and sweet and urgent and perfect — the kind of first kiss that makes you forget you even have lungs, the kind that hits you low in your stomach and high in your chest all at once. When you finally break apart, it’s not because either of you wants to. It’s because oxygen is a thing, apparently. 

Jack presses one last quick kiss to your bottom lip like he can’t help himself, his forehead dropping gently against yours as you both try to steady your breathing. You stay like that for a moment — chests rising and falling in sync, breaths mingling, his fingers still resting against your cheek, your hands still looped behind his neck.

And then reality creeps back in.

Jack opens his eyes first. You feel the shift in him before you see it — the awareness settling in, the sudden realization of exactly where the two of you are. His gaze flicks around the room, and the image is almost comical: two fully grown adults, in scrubs, making out in the middle of an empty patient room like teenagers hiding behind the gym.

He pulls back just an inch, eyes wide, cheeks flushed in a way that feels deeply unfair because he looks good like that.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath. “We’re… actually at work.”

Your laugh comes out soft and breathless and a little hysterical. “Yeah,” you whisper, lips tingling. “We really are.”

Jack scrubs a hand over his face, then immediately reaches back out to touch your waist like he can’t stand not holding you for more than two seconds. His eyes dart once more to the open doorway.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing that in here,” he says, voice low and still rough from kissing you.

“Probably not,” you agree, even though your body is already leaning into him again like it didn’t get the memo.

Jack notices. Of course he notices. He huffs out a soft, helpless laugh, forehead resting briefly against your temple. 

“You’re gonna get me fired,” he murmurs, and the way he says it sounds nothing like an accusation and everything like a man who would still gladly let you ruin his life if you asked nicely.

You smirk, sliding your hands down from his neck to his chest. 

“Then maybe,” you breathe, “we should relocate before someone finds us.”

Jack looks at you for a long moment — that same charged, inevitable look he had before kissing you — and then nods once, slow, lips curling.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s do that.”

The two of you don’t say much after that—just these ridiculous, breathless grins that you try and fail to hide from each other. Jack bumps his shoulder into yours as you head down the hallway toward the lockers, and the second you’re out of full view, he steals another quick kiss. Soft, warm, way too short. It leaves you both laughing under your breath like you’ve just pulled off a heist.

“Stop smiling like that,” you whisper, swatting lightly at his arm.

“I literally can’t,” Jack whispers back, leaning closer as you walk. “My face is broken. You did this. This is your fault.”

You’re trying to shush him, but you’re grinning just as hard, and anyone with a pulse could read the energy radiating off both of you. It’s honestly a miracle you make it to your lockers without lunging at each other again.

You grab your things and the two of you walk back through the ER side by side, fully convinced you look completely normal—just two coworkers heading out after a long shift. But people have eyes. And you and Jack are nowhere near as discreet as you think.

As soon as the door swings shut behind you, Dana leans back in her chair, smirks, and goes,

“Someone’s getting lucky today.”

Robby doesn’t even look up from the chart he’s pretending to read.

“Please. They already did. Did you see his hair?”

Dana snorts. Robby allows himself a tiny satisfied smile, quietly pleased his friend finally got there.

And then they both just… go back to work like nothing happened.

[lucis-dove]

𝖣𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗋𝖺 {1}

summary; 𝖱𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖨𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅. 𝖡𝗎𝗍, 𝗎𝗇𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽-𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾…

pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x reader

rating: 𝖬𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾

chapter no: 1/2

wc; 8.1𝗄

tags/warnings; 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖼 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖾-𝗀𝖺𝗉, 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗍, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝖻𝖼 𝗐𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗋, 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍

Author; @lucis-dove

a/n: 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 @oldermenfucker 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗈𝖿 𝖩𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖲𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖱𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾, 𝖨 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍 𝗎𝗉

"I'm out. The mess is all yours." 

That's the single thing Jack receives as a goodbye when Robby walks past him by the nurse station. His backpack is already slung over his shoulders, AirPods just being pushed into his ears to close out the world.

Jack follows him until he walks through the door into the waiting room. He hadn't run into Robby as he arrived nor by the lockers as he put away his stuff. So, the hasty goodbye is unexpected.

His gaze shifts back when another figure joins him. 

Samira stands before him, still in her scrubs, even though the day shift officially ended half an hour ago. Her hair is frizzier at the temples, as it usually is after twelve hours.

"Did something happen?" Jack notches his chin the way Robby had headed not long ago.

She shakes her head only to end up in a shrug. "Apart from Gloria being on his ass almost every time I ran into him today, I would say no."

Jack's brows furrow, glancing at the doors leading to the waiting room.

"Has he been like that the whole shift?" His eyes track back to Samira. 

She tilts her head sideways, brows raising only to fall just as quickly. "Snappy? Yeah, with everyone. That's why I've waited to get my stuff."

An exhale rushes from Jack's lungs, the sigh harsh as his eyes drop to the iPad. "He isn't going to be any better tomorrow."

"No?"

"No," he confirms as he looks up at her. Whatever hopeful light in her eyes flickers out as she realises a night's sleep won't considerably change the older attending's mood. 

"Has anything happened?" She nods in the direction they both last saw him. 

Although Robby was her attending, Samira didn't know him personally. Yes, she had been told things about him since getting to know Jack better, but she still didn't consider herself a friend of his friend. He was still her boss, as far as she and Robby would put it.

"Nothing, and that's the problem," Jack's attention once more falls to reviewing the details from the day-shift. "He bounces back and forth between the Pitt and his apartment."

Samira understands what's not said outright but implied. She'd experienced a similar lack of any social life up until a handful of months ago. 

Friends, first and foremost, had been scarce. The ones she received during medical school were the only ones that came to mind at the time. Relationships? Dating? Yeah, that had been non-existent. She remembers the desperation, even if it flickered out quickly, that pushed her to once download the dating app one of her few friends suggested.

"I have an idea, and tell me if it's awful or not." Jack's eyes shift upwards, seeing her with her phone now in hand. After some fiddling, she shows him the screen.

His eyebrows pull together, gaze dropping only to sharply flicker to meet her's again. "He would never download that himself."

"You never answered if it's a bad idea." Her smile is tentative as she waits.

"He would think it's awful."

"It's awful when you do it yourself, talking from experience." 

Jack cocks his head, chin tipping upwards. "You've used it?"

"I deleted it after a month." She's smiling as she explains, not at the look he sends her but that her idea still hasn't been outright rejected. She pulls the attention from her back to the topic at hand with a slight shake of the phone. "So?"

Jack rolled his head, staring at the screen.

Robby would hate the idea with venom. Partly because this was the negative side of digitalisation and partly because he would never admit that he wanted, needed, anyone. A partner was the last he would mention, even if someone threatened him under gunpoint.

His eyes shift to meet Samira's brown ones, "I'm letting you be in charge of this."

"I'm happy to be if he lays off on his hounding." Her smile has widened, bringing out the dimples on her cheeks. She pockets her phone. "Send me whatever pictures you have of him or the two of you."

Jack nods, "Update me when you're done."

"Oh, you'll get the giddy messages once I start swiping."

He sends her an amused look. "Don't have too much fun." 

"Don't worry." Her look softens as she continues. "See you at shift-change?"

"'Course," the edge of Jack's mouth tugs upwards but is pulled into a line as the commotion from the ambulance bay catches his attention. He's quick to move but still manages a soft touch against Samira's arm as he passes her.

Even if Jack wasn't glued to his phone like Samira that night, she sent him the updates he'd requested.

─He's popular

─I don't know how I feel flirting with women who find my boss sexy

─Don't mind me, desperate women are entertaining

─Oh wait, I think she could be something

It was after Samira sent the pictures from your profile she received the first reply to any of her messages. The notification from Jack brought her out of the conversation with you, the only one she'd found herself jumping back to answer the messages from between swiping.

She's younger than him─

─But much better at actually holding a conversation compared to many who is his age

─And I guessed he maybe had the same taste for a younger partner, like you

Very funny─

─I know, right, I am

─Should I ask her out?

Are you ready to work with him tomorrow if you do?─

─I'll let you mention it, spare me the worst of his blowup

How generous─

Much like Jack had predicted, Robby's mood hadn't changed overnight. 

He still arrived with a polite smile sent to those he passed in the morning, but his sighs ─followed by a hand rubbing the side of his face─ began even before lunchtime. If anything, it felt like each time Samira was close to him, his attitude worsened even further, her good mood doing the opposite of cheering him up.

And it was all because you'd agreed to a date with Robby. 

Samira had asked you yesterday. Waiting with bated breath for your answer, as if she was the one who would meet up with you. Then, when the reply finally came, a short and sweet I would love to, she jumped from her couch with an excited gasp.

Jack already knew. She'd told him yesterday with a quick text. However, he didn't receive the full update until they met by the lockers this morning and were able to read the entire conversation. Throughout, his mouth had twitched until he looked up, unable to fend off his smile any longer as he handed back the phone.

Then and there, they decided to stick with the plan and inform Robby when the day shift traded with the night shift. Not only to spare Samira from Robby's ire but for Jack to also be well-rested when he broke the news. And the confrontation was getting closer.

The night shift had rolled in, the patient rounds with quick briefings were done, and while Jack didn't do the same huddle Robby did in the mornings, he stood in the same place, waiting.

He busied himself with the iPad, at least wanting it to appear that way. But those who paid close enough attention would notice his eyes flicked up at each day-shifter who emerged from the hall leading to the lockers. While it dropped back down in between, the iPad in his hand was forgotten the second the person he was waiting for appeared.

"We'll hold it down while you're off," Jack says as Robby walks up to him. 

"Good," he claps him on the shoulder. "Text if something comes up." 

Just as he turns, Jack speaks up, halting him in the middle of a step. "And don't forget your date." 

Robby freezes, turning to slowly look over his shoulder with furrowed brows.

"What did you say?" Jack meets his gaze as he presses the off button on the iPad, the screen going dark. 

"You're going on a date." 

Robby turns fully and jerks his head sideways, mouth open as he sharply dips his chin, demanding an answer through a sharply asked, "I am what?"

"You've been stressed-"

"When are we not?" He flings out his hand.

"Worse than fucking usual," Jack speaks through his teeth as he leans forwards. "So suck it up and go; we figured you needed something to take your mind off the Pitt."

"We?" Robby's eyes shift to Samira when she suddenly joins them, noticing how her lips are closer to a thin line than the smile she attempts. "Of fucking course," he laughs in disbelief, shaking his head as he looks away, hand dragging over his beard.

"I should keep you separated," he points at them individually when his eyes return to them.

Jack cocks his head. "You already do. Didn't help."

"You- it just feels like you've had a few bad days," Samira interjects, much gentler, but receives the same look of bottled-up frustration, indicated through brows pinned high and mouth open as if Robby was holding himself back.

"And this would solve it?" He asks it slowly, nodding just slightly as he does, not in agreement.

"Maybe not solve it, but take your mind off of it?" She offers hesitantly. His jaw grinds, but he doesn't manage to reply before Jack cuts in.

"It's your only hope at this point. Your workplace-approach didn't work, like for some others," Robby sends him a look, but is simply met with his unrelenting gaze. 

Samira cuts between them, attempting to diffuse the tension, "She's nice."

Dark brown eyes meet hers. Heavier and stormier than usual. "And how did you find her? Hopefully, she's not a patient?" 

Samira pulls up her phone and shows the account she'd set up for Robby on the dating app.

He takes the phone from her as she offers it, simultaneously reaching for his glasses. 

Inspecting the profile, he's met with candid photos of him. In most of them, he's with Jack, but there's the occasional one where he's alone in the picture. The one he's staring at now is one where he's smiling, his eyes cast down to his beer, still dressed in his scrubs in a lowly lit place.

Only when he squints does he notice the shoulder at the edge of the picture, leading him to the conclusion that it's one Samira has of him and Jack from one of the Pitt's bar nights, but where she's cropped it to exclude the latter.

A short text is visible beneath the pictures he flickers through, and once he reads it ─Doctor who likes beer. Obviously, the taller, more handsome one who can grow a beard out of the two─ he groans.

"Christ, this is so much worse." He mutters as he hands the phone back to Samira.

"But it worked," Jack reminds him.

Robby rubs a hand over his face, scratching his neck before letting it fall, sighing heavily. "And who am I meeting?"

"That's for you to find out tomorrow," Samira answers.

His brows shoot up. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes, you're off during the weekend", Jack shrugs as if it explains everything. And while Robby has a suspicion about why Saturday was chosen, he doesn't get the time to comment on it. "You're going to meet at the Italian restaurant a few blocks from yours, the new one."

"And wear something else than your scrubs; you told her the dress code is summer casual, after all." Samira pipes in with an excited smile.

"Oh, I did?"

"Yes, and she liked that you booked the restaurant and told her to meet there as well," Jack's lips are pulling hard in the corners. "She already seems to like you more than the others you've met in recent times."

Robby sends him a look, deadpan, brows set low. "I haven't seen anyone." And Jack knows that.

"Even the more reason to meet up with her." His friend shoots back.

Samira watches Jack and sighs, turning her attention to him. "She seems sweet, said she liked your smile when she swiped on you,"

"So try not to be too grumpy," Jack adds, smug voice and entertained smile not hidden.

Robby decides not to answer, only throwing up a few fingers in an attempted wave as he turns to leave. But he lets it fall halfway through, releasing another heavy exhale as he exits the Pitt.

This thing, scheme, set up, blind date, had been on Robby's mind since he went to sleep yesterday. Only to be reminded the second he woke up through Jack's text message.

Don't chicken out.

He wouldn't, Robby told himself. At least he wouldn't stand you up. You didn't deserve that just because his friends, colleagues in this instance, wanted the same for him as they shared. No, he would show up and tell you the truth to spare your and his time. You deserved that, even if he didn't know you.

That didn't explain why he never felt like he could settle throughout the day. 

He tried to watch whatever rerun shows were on TV but fiddled with the remote. Either flickering through channels or spinning it in his hand while attempting to find something worthwhile.

He caught himself checking each reflective surface he passed in the house, each time running a hand through his hair, only to drag it down his face when he realised what he was doing. After a handful of times, he decided to just take a shower to tame his unruly hair. 

And while he practised what to say when he met you, sorry for my idiot friends or something along those lines, he actually considered what shirt he should wear and which pants it could match as he rummaged through his wardrobe as it neared the time of departure.

He settled for something relaxed: jeans and a light blue jumper with a minimal pattern or weave, perhaps. He didn't really know what to call it. It wasn't too casual, but neither dressed up, fitting for the dress code he had given you.

But what he decided to wear didn't mean anything. He wouldn't stay long enough to start worrying about his appearance compared to yours.

Robby continued telling himself there was no deeper reason for his behaviour as he locked up behind him and headed towards the restaurant.

It was warm outside; no jacket was needed. Even so, he burrowed his hands in his jeans, fingers fighting for room along with his keys and phone as he tracked to the address he, rather Jack and Samira, had given you.

Not until he reached for the door to the Italian place did he actually realise, admit, he was nervous. Not for the… date but to break the news and, without a doubt, ruin your evening.

Robby exhaled harshly as he pulled the door open, cursing the couple that definitely would send him hopeful looks at shift change on Monday.

Only when the equally warm inside of the restaurant met him did Robby remember he had no idea who he was looking for. He hadn't been shown a picture, only received a name after Jack's message about not chickening out.

Unsure of what, who, to expect, he glanced around the room. 

He guessed you were here already since it was only a few minutes until the set time of the booked table. The one under his name.

The main seating area was further in and to the left, while a bar with seatings ran along the counter to his right. It was as his eyes strayed over those seats, his eyes connected with someone's.

He didn't know if it was an accident, not at first. But his attention remained, unconsciously flickering down and up, only to be met by a smile being sent to him. When a small wave followed the reestablished eye contact, it sealed the deal.

Shit, you're pretty. Really fucking pretty.

That was Robby's first realisation as he watched you slide from your stool and head over. You weren't overdressed, following a similar theme as him. But god, if you didn't look even more put-together. 

Dark blue jeans hugged your hips and waist before they fell straight. Hiding what he realised were white heels from the point peeking out from the lower hem and the rhythmic clicking he heard. Your jumper, closer to a cardigan with buttons lining the front, was tailored to fit snugly at the waist. The white fabric looked soft, dressing up the otherwise rougher fabric covering your legs. 

Nothing of your outfit gave away too much of your figure, but just enough his eyes followed it anyways. 

As your pace slowed when nearing, he saw a chain peek through where the two uppermost buttons of your top were popped open. It rested against your collarbones, dainty but glittering as it caught the light.

His eyes jumped to yours when he realised you'd stopped in front of him.

"Hi, Michael, right?" Your voice was soft, the slight smile still there as you looked at him.

He opened his mouth, preparing to tell you that this was all just a big mistake, a rouse to unkindly thank his friends for. But the words died on his tongue as your head tilted, and he noticed that your fingers never stayed still, wringing together, playing with the rings that matched your necklace.

"I haven't taken the wrong person, have I?" You question a bit awkwardly.

"Uhm, yeah- I mean, no, no, you haven't." The words rush from his mouth this time around. You breathe out an amused, verging relieved sound through your nose. "But Robby is just fine," he stretches forth his hand, which breaks up the nervous practice of spinning the ring on your index finger.

"Robby?" You question after you've shaken his hand, letting yours fall along your body again.

"My last name-"

"Hello, do you have a booking?" The voice cuts off his reply, Robby's attention falling to the man who steps up to you two.

"Ugh…" Robby notices how you look towards him, sees it in the edge of his peripheral. He swallows. Fuck, he could just say it later, not make a scene here. "Yeah, yeah, Michael Robinavitch."

"7 P.M.?" He nods even if the waiter doesn't look up from the iPad. "Perfect, follow me," he says, looking up to offer a polite smile to both of you before turning on his heel.

Robby looks towards you, brows rising when he finds you already, still, watching him. He plays it off by nodding forwards, hands leaving his pockets to motion with one of them into the restaurant, telling you to lead the way. 

Your smile reaches your eyes as it widens, turning around to follow the waiter. Robby follows two steps behind. 

"I get the nickname now." You speak to him over your shoulder, glancing backwards. Your voice wasn't hushed but slightly lower to signal you were speaking to only him.

"What?" 

"Your last name. I think I would have a hard time spelling it if you didn't sound it out." He actually finds himself releasing an amused scoff, head dipping before his gaze returns to you.

"Got tired of people calling me everything but it."

Your laugh is preceded by a smile that flashes teeth. And Robby finds himself just looking at you, eyes flickering over your features scrunched into amusement. Even as it falls slightly, just enough to offer a polite thank you to the waiter once he stops by your table ─another one as you sit down and accept the menu─ his eyes never leave you, unable to look anywhere else.

It's not until your gaze flickers to Robby that he realises he's still standing and finds himself pulling out his chair the moment he does. 

He offers an appreciative nod to the man who hands him the same two-sided menu as you received, as well as a wine list, once he's seated.

As the waiter leaves, you nod in momentary goodbye. Nothing familiar, just polite. Robby finds it charming, in some weird or deeply hidden definition of the word in a glossary. Perhaps it's due to his own work in the service sector.

When your eyes trail back, returning from the quick sweep of the restaurant ─which you took the opportunity to do after already looking up at the waiter─ they move over the drinks list in his hands on the way to the menu in yours.

Although Robby planned to explain the absurdity of the situation and let you down gently once the two of you were left alone. Perhaps offer to buy you a glass of wine to nurse while he goes home, intending to deliver a few chosen words to Jack. That's not what happens.

"Want to take a look?" Robby is quick to offer the drink list to you. 

When your eyes flicker up to him, it halts his thought that, in seconds, managed to jump from 'that was not what you were supposed to say'  to 'out of all the things you could say, you chose that.'

"Thank you, but I'm okay. Don't fancy getting tipsy," you explain, one hand gesturing aimlessly as the other keeps holding your menu.

He clears his throat as he sets the booklet down. "Lightweight?"

"Winedrunk is a real thing," you huff, but it's light and airy. Adding in your smile, Robby knows it's all said in jest.

"So, what did you have at the bar?" He remembers the empty glass you'd left behind when coming to greet him.

"A mocktail, just to occupy myself with something", you shrug. "And I'll continue down my boring path."

Robby motions to where he'd put the drink list between you. "Heard they have pretty good non-alcoholic options."

"Actually, I'm leaning towards just a soda." He nods, rapping his finger against the table, focus entirely lost on the menu he holds open in his other hand.

"What's your go-to?" 

He really didn't know what urged him to ask, but the question had already left him when Robby realised he was the one who continued the conversation.

"I'm not fussy," you settle one elbow on the table, propping your chin on it. "So surprise me." 

His brows arch, not anticipating your answer. But you don't shy away from his surprised look. Simply continue watching him with a quirk on your lips, making no move to say anything, nothing to justify or explain yourself. You hold his gaze for long enough Robby understands you are attempting to drive your point home.

He feels the edge of his lip tick upwards. Something about your subtle playfulness elicits the reaction. 

Upon his non-verbal cue, your lips pull to one side, looking like you are biting the inside of your cheek to stop your smile from growing. Although your attention returns to the menu once more, your face remains angled toward him as it's your eyes that move. 

Robby finds his eyes flickering between his menu and you repeatedly. Somewhere along the way, he gets stuck studying you. How your eyes flicker across the paper, or the way your teeth play with your lower lip as it seems you consider which dish is the most appealing.

He doesn't realise how long he's watched you, not until the waiter arrives at the side of the table once again.

Eyes directed to the same man as previously, he notices you do the same from the corner of his eye. Upon the question of whether you're ready to order, Robby answers for you both.

He feels your gaze move to him as he orders your and his drinks, asking for a bit more time concerning the food. He realised ─whilst ordering his usual bear and choosing a soda for you─ that he barely knew what was on the menu after his attention got sidetracked by you.

After the waiter leaves, Robby's eyes automatically move to you. 

When his gaze connects with yours, witnessing the smile you send his way, he certainly doesn't feel the same displeasure rise in his body as when he mentally prepared for this evening. In fact, he reciprocates it. Genuine, no faking it, like he very much thought he would've needed if he forced himself to sit through this blind date.

After that, Robby has his second realisation; he's slowly warming to the idea of being here with you. 

Yeah, one dinner can't hurt. 

While you'd been the one to swipe on Michael, Robby, you'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd walked into the restaurant. 

He looked the same as his pictures, which certainly wasn't always the case. You dared to say he looked even better when you got closer to him. 

Maybe it was due to how he carried himself. You knew how tall he was from the app, but he felt taller in person. Even with your heels, you needed to angle your chin to properly look into his eyes. 

Or perhaps it was those brown eyes. Yeah, they were just as pretty in person as they'd been through the screen. If anything, you had a hard time looking anywhere but them as you fell into a conversation after receiving your drinks and ordering your food. 

They looked perpetually dark, bottomless ─but not emotionless─ in the restaurant's dimmed light. It was easy to get lost in them, far too easy.

"So, how did you hear of this place?" You ask him. He's gotten more comfortable in his seat, leaning against the back. 

"Heard it from my… son?" 

Even if he grows unsure towards the end of the sentence, making it sound like a question, your brows arch. You hadn't seen that on his profile, nor was it anything he'd mentioned during your short back and forth. 

And Robby notices your reaction, it seems, as he is quick to clarify, "Not my son. Jake, he's the kid of my ex." 

Robby winces after it's said. He may not have dated in years, but he knows the etiquette about bringing up exes on first dates.

"Yeah, sorry, you probably didn't need that detail." He sheepishly drags one hand over the side of his face, ruffling that side of his hair, only to slide down along his bearded jaw and down his chin.

"It added to the explanation, so I'm not offended." You say it with a wink at the end, letting him know no real harm has been done. "So, you two are close, you and Jake, I mean?"

"We're building back up to that point after some rough patches." You nod, deciding not to push upon catching the tension behind his words.

"And you and your ex, I suppose you're on good terms if you still hang out with him occasionally?" His head cocks as you ask, and you simply raise your hands. "Hey, you mentioned it, I'm just gauging."

And Robby believes you. He doesn't know why, but you make it feel easy to talk about these things. It's the first time he does it with someone who knows nothing of his background in... how many years, he doesn't know. 

"I guess. We don't really talk, only if it concerns Jake, but it's not like I'm always present at every big step he takes." You nod with a bit of hum

"If you don't mind, why did it end? From the outside, it looks like you've stepped into some kind of father role for Jake. It feels like you don't abandon the relationship it stemmed from readily."

"Me and the kid got on better than me and his mom." You chuckle at the joke. He smiles but continues with a half-hearted shrug. "Work, I guess, always the joykiller."

"Doctor, was it?" He nods twice, guessing you'd worked it out from the pictures he wore scrubs in or during the texting Samira had done with you. "I guess that does take up a lot of time."

He chuckles, hearing how it brushes on sardonic in his own ears. "You could say that."

"So, long-term then? Do you feel like that's correct if your work takes up so much time?" 

That question makes him stall, hesitate. Not because he didn't know where it came from. He'd seen what type of relationship preference was visible on his profile. It was the only option he would've considered as well if he, over his dead body, would've created it himself. But he didn't think you would ask about it, no less without averting your eyes as you waited for his answer.

"I… good question, honestly," he couldn't help but exhale, rubbing his neck. 

Robby had, of course, thought about it and knew it was the reason most of his previous relationships gave away in the end. He wasn't the sole fault for it. Janey and Collins both had careers they'd also wanted to focus on advancing or just maintaining amidst everything else. 

"It's not that it takes up too much time, just that it never technically leaves you, me, even if I'm not at work." He looks at you, eyes locking with yours from unconsciously having fallen to the table. "It's not something everyone wants to sign up for and…"

"Not something you want to put them through?" You lean on the table, resting your temple on your fist, eyes on him.

Robby doesn't know if smart would be the word to describe you for working it out. Perceptive, maybe, as you'd suggested the reason he'd left out with enough confidence to showcase that you knew that's what we wanted to say. 

And you weren't wrong.

"It's just easier to sometimes not bother when you know the outcome." He confirms. Not defeated, just the simple truth.

"Being alone can be awfully comfortable." 

It's his turn to tilt his head in intrigue. "Speaking from experience?" 

"Yeah, you can say that." You smile, but it's not as light as your previous ones. "I've met enough people who want fleeting things and never even want to try and settle." 

Without having seen your dating profile, Robby gathered what your questions tried to determine, as well as what your preferences were. "In for a penny, in for a pound?"

You break into a smile as you sit up again, leaning back with your arm loosely folded across your chest. "If you want to choose the lightest saying."

"So, any exes I should know about?" 

Concerning how you two already have broken the standard protocol for a first date, he isn't shy to steer the conversation to focus on you this time around rather than a topic of favourite colours or foods.

"None recent and none who's left much baggage." You share with him. But it seems like you're reminded of something, your lips pulling at the edges as you grimace. "People I've dated on a short-term basis are a different story. But I feel like you're not the kind of man who's got the patience to listen to how miserable guys are with dating in this day and age."

"You're probably right." He scoffs, able to imagine it more than well. "Men can be impossible."

You chuckle at that, and Robby finds himself smiling.

The silence you settle into as your sound of amusement fades is short-lived, your food arriving to break it and the eye contact you shared.

Although the conversation evens out while you eat, occasional comments are shared. 

Some touch on superficial topics. Robby likes sports, you don't mind them. You both enjoy reading, but he prefers journals, while you gravitate towards fiction of most kinds. 

Others don't, but neither of you shy from them.

You don't use the exact words, but when thoughts are shared on partners and relationships, your answers are nonetheless similar. Not uncomplicated, unchallenging. But right, worth attempting.

Robby finds himself wanting to know more, curious about you. With how your conversation never waters down into prolonged and strained silences ─of course, the occasional lull, but it's filled with shared glances─ you seem equally as invested. Asking about him, gazing at him while he speaks, sometimes with a small smile. 

Without realising, those hours he never intended to spend with you in the first place pass. 

Your bubble breaks when the waiter appears and plucks the dishes from the table, voicing an open question regarding dessert.

Robby glances at you, and you notice his attention. With a little jerk of his head, he silently tells you to decide. Your eyes move back to the waiter, only answering when the clatter of cutlery and plates has silenced and he balances the dishes in his arms.

"We're good, thank you." You smile up at the man, who offers a nod before he walks off. Your attention lands on him again, "I'm just going to the ladies. I'll be back soon," you excuse as you stand up.

"You'll find me here." Your eyes remain on him even as you begin walking away, and Robby catches the flicker in them, relieved, happy. It's mirrored in your smile, hidden only when you face forward. 

Without realising, he feels how he reciprocates your smile even if you can't see it. 

As you wash your hands, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you have to forcefully purse your lips to beat down your smile. 

This evening was going above and beyond whatever you'd imagined. It was hard not to consider what was possible down the road if it continued like this. But Robby... he just made it too easy to accidentally trip and fall right down that rabbit hole. That's precisely why you needed to run your hands through the coldest water possible from the tap. 

As you placed them on the back of your neck to ground yourself, you exhaled slowly, putting a lid on the ecstatic quiver in your chest. Your eyes fluttered close for a brief moment; annoyingly, your mind simply conjured a picture of Robby behind your eyelids.

You shake your head, opening your eyes, only to see a smile has worked itself onto your lips again.  

"Jesus," you huff, the excitement in your own voice not lost on you as you dry your hands. 

This was only a first date. You really needed to approach it as if it meant nothing. Disappointment was too close otherwise.

Yet, it's proved impossibly hard to keep yourself to that, your smile already returning once your eyes find Robby as you get closer to the table.

When you're a few feet away, he turns to you, probably catching you nearing through his periphery.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks, standing up before you have time to sit down again.

Your brows pull together. "But the check?"

"I took care of it." Robby waves towards the way you just came, insinuating he paid while you were gone.

"Thank you, that's really kind." Your head dips as he takes the lead to the exit. "I appreciate it." 

He doesn't respond, not verbally, but he throws a look over his shoulder, lips tugging upwards. 

It took every part of your non-lizard brain to continue walking and not just dumbly stop in the middle of your step. Robby had looked so incredibly good in that short instance that it took you off guard in that off-hand realisation way. 

You'd stared at him countless times tonight, never denying you sat across from a handsome man. But that, and how he now holds the door open ─close to the hinges as he'd already stepped on the pavement outside and looked back at you─ would ingrain itself in your memory forever.

"Which way are you going?" He asks once you join him on the sidewalk. 

You nod towards the left.

It grants you a smile that makes Robby's eyes gentle and incorporates his whole face. His smile lines appeared. The wrinkles deepened on his forehead. The creases grew beside his eyes. 

"We're heading the same way," he says, and just like that, you set off in the same direction. 

A conversation flows easily. You laugh slightly louder at his sarcastic comments, able to when you weren't indoors. His chuckles also ring deeper as he watches the way you look up at him after softly swatting his arm. The kind of minor physical contact that wasn't possible when sitting opposite each other. 

Yet the air of finality was hard to ignore. The daunting feeling the night was closing in on its end grew. 

As Robby slows his pace, which you catch onto a few seconds later, as if you didn't anticipate it, he knows for sure it is. 

"This is me," he nods down the right turn of the intersection as he says it.

You offer him a smile, motioning forward. "My bus stop is a few blocks away." 

"You took the bus?" You hum with a nod.

The wind has picked up during your walk together. It's not cold by any means, but being this close to the water increased the power of the gusts. Robby notices your shiver, probably just due to the sudden shift in temperature by a few degrees more than actually freezing. Even so, he finds himself stepping in front of you.

You follow Robby as he moves, cutting off the gust of winds that previously blew into your face. Your eyes widen slightly as you realise what he did, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. 

"Thank you," you quickly follow them up with something to cover your shocked appreciation. "I enjoyed tonight."

"Yeah, me too."

"I really didn't have any expectations." You admit with a chuckle. "I honestly headed into this with the mindset to get it over with and be disappointed if, and no offence, I thought you would, proved to be a completely different person than over text."

Robby chuckles and shakes his head. Apparently, you'd had the same attitude toward this as he had.

"Maybe I'm shooting myself in the foot by telling this, but-" This time he looks sideways, hand finding the back of his head, scratching it as he continues. "-some friends set me up for this date. Without me knowing."

"No, you're joking?" His gaze shifts back to you. Your lips are slightly parted, brows knitted together.

"Didn't know I had a dating profile until yesterday." He gives you an apologetic smile, arm dropping to find shelter in his back pocket.

Even though he didn't reveal how adamant he'd been to call quits on this, Robby still thought the information he shared would be enough for your surprised expression to turn sour. Maybe even take a step back, excuse yourself and be on your way now when you know. 

He didn't anticipate seeing amusement, maybe even curiosity, bleed into your surprise as a laugh bubbled slowly in your throat until it filled the air.

"Oh, god, I-I'm sorry," you excuse through your chuckling, biting your lip and dampening it into a smile before you decide to continue. "I really thought someone like you-," you abandon the rest of your sentence with a small shake of your head. 

That made his head cock, intrigue rising suddenly. "No, tell me." 

Your brows rise, tongue wetting your lips, chest stuttering a little on your inhale. To Robby, it was clear you hadn't thought he would ask you to continue, explain what you'd left out.

"I, well… figured you didn't need any apps with your looks. If we base it on how I malfunctioned when seeing your photos." Your chin drops, watching your toes as you shift the weight on your feet. 

You remember the noise you let out as his profile grazed your screen, very undignified. Enough so that you'd looked around your empty room to see if someone accidentally heard you.

"You're exaggerating."

"No." Your head snaps up, Robby looking as surprised as you feel upon the conviction behind the statement. You fumble to continue with an explanation. "I mean, you look good, really good; most women would think so."

"I'm on the wrong side of fifty."

Your head does a minuscule shake as your brows furrow as if you can't comprehend his words. "And?"

"I have greys in my beard." 

You hum, bewildered expression dropping just like your eyes do as they narrow lightly, focusing on his beard. God, that beard. You hesitate, only to take a step closer. 

Robby inhales at the proximity, only getting a lungful of your perfume rather than the fresh air needed for his brain to function. But he doesn't mind your closeness, not at all. 

When you slowly raise your hand, he watches as bewitched. 

You do it slowly enough so he knows you leave time for him to object, step back, say no. But he doesn't move an inch. Simply follows your hand that reaches for his chin, waiting to feel your touch.

The gentle sensation of your nails scratching his skin beneath the coarse hair as your fingers card through his beard sent one long shiver down his spine.

"Congrats, you're one step closer to becoming a silver fox." He actually chuckles at that, shaking his head. Your hand automatically falls again as he does, but you don't step away.

"And you don't mind?" He looks at you again, searching your eyes even if a smile greets him.

There's a gap between you. He'd noticed it as soon as he saw you in the restaurant. Compared to him, there were yearsuntil you even started greying. The lines on your forehead and around your eyes still tilted more towards smooth skin than not, unlike himself.

"Do you think I would've swiped, let alone met up with you if it did?"

"Maybe you just wanted a free meal," he shrugs. He doesn't really believe it himself, not after getting to know you. So the rise of your brows doesn't surprise him.

"I'll let you know, Robby." The slow, accentuated way you say his name while you notch your chin higher makes his heart speed up. "I may have decided to meet up after that short conversation with your friends. But I stayed throughout the dinner because of you." 

"So my dad-jokes worked?" He doesn't even realise he bends his neck slightly as he asks you. But he does notice the hitch in your breath as he does.

Robby's smile is slightly toothy as he looks down at you. A grin almost. It looks remarkably boyish for someone of his age, a juxtaposition to the rest of his aged features. But you found it simply spread fondness through your chest like so many other things he'd done tonight.

"Yeah, yeah, they did." 

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Hopeful for a second date?"

"Am I wrong to think I have a good chance?"

"No."

You hadn't noticed how you both inched closer, gravitating towards each other. Your chests almost touching. The point of your shoes nearly meeting his. But it does feel like you realise it at the same time. Both your eyes fall, only to meet again seconds later. 

He takes a tentative step closer, a shuffle more like, angling his head down as one hand slips from his jeans pocket. You have a feeling where it will land but are surprised when it settles on your waist. 

"I really had a good night," his voice has dropped, rough and low. 

"You've already said that." Robby's hands slide to your ribs, leaving behind goosebumps he can't see, but you can feel.

"Needed to say it again." It's more of a mumble beneath his breath as he watches you closely, following your reaction to his hand jumping to the curve of your shoulder, moving until his hand cups behind your neck, thumb along the hinge of your jaw. "Since I didn't think it would be."

"Robby-" his name is a whisper, breathed into the space that still separates you. Far less than before, but still not enough to touch. Not until he dips closer, tongue rolling to briefly be trapped between his lips before they part.

"This okay?" His nose nudges yours, the tip rather than the side, as he remains far enough away that his brown gaze can meet yours.

"Yeah." Even if his eyes fall to your lips as you reply, he remains a few inches away. 

You swallow, inhaling, eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth. Robby's jaw clenches, then it slackens, his grip on your face shifting.

It's you who tilt your head and lean closer, but it's Robby who closes the gap and initiates the kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut as his warm, rough lips press against yours. 

You hadn't had enough time to dream- consider this. A second date, more down the road. But not this, not tonight. And yet, everything about kissing Robby feels right.

It feels natural when your hands fall against his stomach as he parts and tilts his head, only to seek you out again. The shivers working overtime through your nervous system ─prickling the skin across all parts of your body, enough for your hair to stand at the edge─ feel good and not uncomfortable. And when his other hand lands and curves over your hip, his warmth radiating through the fabric of your clothes as he pulls you into him, you welcome it.

When you part properly and with more space than a breath that fans hotly against each other's lips, you finally look at each other again. 

Robby is the first to speak as you inhale a lungful of air, attempting to steady your hammering heart after witnessing the look in his eyes.

"Do you want to stay at mine?"

Yeah, all that air? Gone.

The air you just pulled in whooshed out in an exhale that sounded like a rushed huh?. Apparently, his own comment caught him off-guard, his brows shooting up high enough to accentuate the lines on his forehead.

"I-just…," he swallows, cutting himself short. 

You feel how he wants to release your face and smoothen the hand down his face. In the end, he settles for a quick sideways-jerk of his head, accompanied by a smile that is void of humour in contrast to troubled.

"I'm just offering for you to stay at mine so you don't have to take the bus this late." You blink, watching him for a few seconds. Then you suddenly break into a smile, brows cocking.

"And you don't offer to pay for a cab to take me home but invite me to sleep over?" His mouth falls open, face elongating, a pink hue spreading across his cheeks as he averts his eyes.

"Christ, I know how it sounded, but I'm not expecting anything, just…if you want to- feel like-" he cuts himself off with an exasperated noise and a shake of his head. "I should just have offered you that cab ride." 

His brown eyes look from the ground to you, apologetic as bashfulness shines in them. 

You can't help but chuckle at the state he's in. The troubled furrow between his eyebrows. The slight pink still tinging his cheeks. 

What spurs you to respond is when you feel his hand slide from the side of your neck and your hip.

You halt his movement by moving your respective hands to the outer part of his arms, then elbows. With a slight push, you redirect his hands, that's just about to fall alongside his body, to land at your waist.

"I'm taking you up on that offer." Robby visibly relaxes, his hands on your waist settling fully rather than hovering. "Lead the way, if you're not having second thoughts on that cab?"

"Are you?" You shake your head. In return, he nods once, only to motion sideways with his head. "Let's go."

Although Robby's hands fall from your waist after the slight tug to direct you along with him, you walk closer than before, arms brushing, fingers touching every now and then. 

Your pulse is already thrumming, and even though you want to, you don't intertwine your fingers with his. Instead, you settle on slipping your hand around his bicep. Which is still quite daring if you go off how your heart jumps as you take the plunge. 

Whatever hesitation you had is quelled when Robby accommodates instantly, arm bending slightly. You bite your lip, gaze still set forward as your other hand also settles on him at the green light, draping across the crook of his arm, near where his forearm starts. 

You softly squeeze his bicep. He reciprocates with a lightly flexing and bringing it closer to his body, trapping your hand in a gentle press against his ribs. It's nothing and so much at the same time.

[orchidame]

[randomshitwhore]

“I’ll Wait… Always..”: An Obi-Wan x Reader Story

Summary: Fresh from the Outer Rim and the rescue of the Chancellor, Obi-Wan returned bruised and distant—a ghost among the polished halls of the Senate. You weren’t supposed to love him. But after war, near-death, and the way his voice softens only for you… how could you not? In a crumbling galaxy, love is the quietest rebellion.

Category: Surprise angst (I thought this was going to be a soft reunion and suddenly I was writing heartbreak?? Hello??)

TW: Mentions of death, implied loss, canon-typical violence, political tension, emotional strain, war-weariness

Word Count: 798

The Senate hallway was thick with the usual hum of politics and pomp, senators sweeping past in clusters of color and authority. Obi-Wan walked with practiced ease, his expression diplomatic, his thoughts elsewhere.

Anakin was just ahead, striding beside Bail Organa. R2-D2 and C-3PO trailed in their usual clatter of movement and conversation. Obi-Wan let himself hang back.

He had grown used to Anakin’s distance, the way his thoughts seemed perpetually elsewhere now—tethered to something hidden just beyond reach. But as Anakin’s step faltered, Obi-Wan felt it too.

A shift in the air.

Not danger. Something… personal.

He watched as Anakin murmured something to Bail, then turned sharply and slipped behind one of the towering Senate columns. Obi-Wan knew better than to follow. This was no mission. This was something—or someone—Anakin would not want witnessed.

He exhaled quietly and turned the other way.

You were waiting.

You always knew just where to stand, just how to blend into the swirling chaos of the Capitol. A ghost to everyone else—but never to him.

The moment his eyes met yours, the world dulled. Even the echo of Anakin’s recklessness faded beneath the pulse that stirred inside him. Calm, but urgent. Deeply restrained. Deeply needed.

You moved first, slipping around the curve of a marble wall, disappearing into the dim corridor behind a private Senate antechamber.

He followed silently.

There was no embrace—not yet. There never was, not in these places. But your eyes drank him in, and that was enough. For now.

“You’re late,” you whispered, a smile ghosting your lips.

“I came as soon as I could.” His voice was low, warmer than anyone else ever heard it. “You know how these things go.”

“I also know you didn’t come straight here.”

A pause. The air between you was full of unspoken truths. Obi-Wan didn’t lie, but he didn’t explain either.

“He needed to see her,” you murmured. “I understand.”

“He’s walking a very narrow edge,” Obi-Wan said, stepping closer, your hands now brushing. “I fear he doesn’t see it. Or doesn’t want to.”

“And what about you?” you asked gently. “Do you see your own edge?”

“I see it every time I look at you.”

That was all. That was everything.

You reached for him, fingers brushing his jaw before settling at the edge of his robe. He leaned down, just enough to rest his forehead against yours. No kiss—not here. Not now.

But your breath warmed his skin. And your presence, like always, anchored him.

“I miss you,” you whispered. The words were soft, brittle. “Not just in these brief moments. I miss the version of you that’s only mine.”

His eyes closed.

“You have more of me than anyone,” he said. “But I know it’s not enough.”

“It’s never been about enough,” you replied. “It’s about real.”

He opened his eyes then, and the way he looked at you—it stripped him bare. Not the General. Not the Jedi Master. Just a man, caught between duty and the only thing that felt like peace.

“I think about it,” he said. “What it would be like if I could stop running from the things I want.”

You searched his face. “Then stop, Obi-Wan. Just for this moment. Let yourself want.”

Your hand moved to the center of his chest, resting above the steady beat of his heart. And he let his hand cover yours. A quiet act of rebellion.

“I wish I’d met you in another life,” he said. “One where I didn’t have to weigh every breath against a code.”

“You’re here now,” you said. “And I’m not asking for forever. I’m just asking for now.”

That was when the commlink at his belt crackled softly—its timing cruelly precise.

He didn’t move at first. Just sighed, forehead still resting against yours.

“Kenobi,” he answered, the word more breath than voice.

The voice on the other end was clipped, formal. The Council was reconvening. His presence was required immediately.

“So this is goodbye,” you said, and it wasn’t a question... it never was.

He stepped forward again, his hand briefly touching your cheek. “It’s not goodbye. It never is.”

He turned to go; but stopped.

And without ceremony, without fear, he leaned back in and pressed a kiss to your temple. Not rushed. Not hidden. Just real.

“May the Force be with you,” you said, your voice threatening to break as your lover slips through your fingers once again.

Then, with one final glance—full of everything he couldn’t say—he turned and slipped back into the current of the Senate.

You watched him go until he disappeared among the cloaks and shadows.

You remained still for a moment longer. Then, like always, you vanished too.

But not before whispering into the silence, for no one but yourself to hear:

“I’ll wait. Always...”

[randomshitwhore]

deadass, i headcanon Ford Pines wearing turtle necks all the time because in the 30 years he was in another dimension(s), he got a bunch of intergalactic/extraterrestrial tattoos done and doesn't want the kids or Stanley to know.

(someone please draw this and tag me, I'm begging🙏)

authors note: and i don’t mean like the 2-3 ones he has already, i mean like covered in hundreds of tattoos, sleeves, blackouts whatever he wanted since he figured he’d be stuck there for the rest of his life

[lamarquisedesade]

yeah sex is cool but have you ever read the secret history

[somerabbitholes]

i found the nicest bookstore tucked under a building at assi ghat in varanasi

[randomshitwhore]

Okay, so I have this dark peter pan image stuck in my head and I'm debating whether to post it; is that something you guys want to see?

p.s this will be a written short, not a piece of art, though artist of tumblr are welcome to illustrate it if posted

[randomshitwhore]

writes block sucks. writes block sucks. writes block sucks. writes block sucks. writes block sucks. writes block sucks.

conclusion: writes block sucks

[randomshitwhore]

it’s the way i’ve been in a writers block for months now and i have two Simon “Ghost” Riley stories waiting in my drafts like:

[randomshitwhore]

Hello! Just wanted to ask if you write for any other cod: ghosts character aside from keegan? Such as Hesh?

Have a wonderful day/night! ^^

omg yes babe!!! COD:Ghosts is literally my favorite and my opinion the best cod, so yes! these goes for other series my loves, that’s the whole reason my name is randomshitwhore! i post random fandoms and other things! request a character and tell me what series their from so i can research how they act! use the master list pinned on my page to request!

[randomshitwhore]

MW2 Boys & Valeria + kissing them under the mistletoe <3

-> aww love, something I dont have but proceed to write about constantly LMAO. waiting for the day ill have a partner on/during Christmas and experience this but until now, my MW2 boys and Valeria(for my gay ass) will do <3

featuring: simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, alejandro vargas, rodolfo "rudy" parra, john price, and valeria garza

Simon "Ghost" Riley

he probably wouldn't understand what to do when you casually point it out

since he struggles around the holidays due to unfortunate circumstances (iykyk), he hasn't really been up to date on the latest Christmas traditions or any for that matter

you'd probably have to explain that when two people are caught under the mistletoe, you were supposed to kiss (with consent!)

he would agree and probably just give you a standard smooch the first time, but in the days leading up to Christmas, the kisses would become more and more romantic each day

probably by next Christmas, there isn't no doorway that doesn't have mistletoe above it

John "Soap" MacTavish

I can tell this man is a total sucker for mistletoe kisses

would be the one to put it up AND point it out to you in the cheesiest way possible

"oh look mistletoe, wouldn't be a total shame if you came over here"

literally gives the best kisses ever, mistletoe or no mistletoe

totally dips you when kissing and smiles into the kiss (when is it gonna be my turn ;-;)

Alejandro Vargas

papi vargas <3

same as ghost, mistletoe is everywhere

and when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere

you literally can't escape this man kissing you every chance he gets

also would probably dip you while kissing but if your doing cooking, aims straight for the neck (again, when will it be my turn?)

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

omg literally the sweetest human alive

honestly can see him putting up the mistletoe with you and tying little pieces in with your presents he got you

just like soap, favorite holiday tradition ever

steals kisses whenever he can

lips, cheek; doesn’t matter

as long as you guys are caught under it together or if you’re doing something under it, you get your sweet ass he’s running over to give you a kiss

Captain John Price

again, sweetest and most wholesome man alive

just seems like the type to just get so fucking excited when Christmas time comes around

just seeing you happy is enough for him

seeing the mistletoe and you looking at him just makes him feel 10x younger

would def pick you up bridal style and kiss you under the mistletoe

(ugh what a DILF, love price so much)

Valeria Garza

cartel mommy <3

literally gets so fucking excited when Christmas comes around

will definitely get matching pajamas

this woman doesn't need mistletoe around to kiss you, honestly

definitely, the type to sneak up behind you and just wrap her arms around you while your decorating, that's when she catches the mistletoe being hung up

"mi vida, if you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask"

(UGH I FUCKING LOVE HER SO MUCH, MEOW)

[randomshitwhore]

All I Want For Christmas {Soap Mctavish x reader}

word count: 1.1k

pairing: john "soap" mctavish x reader

summary: you and your boyfriend, Soap, are enjoying a Christmas get-together with Task Force 141 and Los Vaqueros. You two are just having a good time together before one of your comrades notices a piece of Mistletoe overhead of you both...

AN: merry christmas ya filthy animals! enjoy! keep a look out at 10pm for another surprise Xmas-gift post tomorrow!

Your eyes watched the snow gently hit the ground as you admired the christmas lights twinkling around Alejandro’s home, his children running around with one of their new toys; waiting for Santa Claus to come and bring them more. You and your friends were wearing cute christmas sweaters and were celebrating one of your favorite holidays of the year with the love of your life. Life for you honestly couldn’t be better than this.

Price and Laswell with her wife, talking about the different types of cigars and cigarettes they smoke; much to her wife’s displeasure. Rodolfo and Gaz finally getting to formally introduce themselves to one another after the last mission. Finally; Alejandro, Simon “Ghost” Riley, and your boyfriend; John “Soap” MacTavish, playfully arguing over what alcohol was better: scotch or bourbon. 

“Ms.MacTavish! Ms.Mactavish!”

You turned your head around to see Alejandro’s two children, his son and daughter, running toward you with their new stuffed animals they had gotten as an early christmas present. “Hey, guys!” You squealed excitingly, picking them up and swinging them around, earning a shit ton of giggling to escape from the two. You gently sat down with them, each of them on one of your thighs. “Do you guys like your early presents?” You asked. They nodded their heads so fast you thought they were both going to fall backward. 

Soap watched as Alejandro’s children started to tell you about all the plans they had, what treats they were going to leave out for Santa Claus, and how they were going to catch him. “Hermano, you’re staring again,” Alejandro said, gently nudging Soap in the shoulder. “Sorry, she just looks so happy talking to them” Soap apologized, still looking at you, playing with the children and laughing. “You’re smitten, Johnny” Ghost said, taking a sip of his bourbon. The boy’s heads snapped when they heard a scream come from your direction. 

“Help me! I’m under attack!” You squealed-laughed, as Alejandro’s children began to hold you down and tickle you after you threatened to do it to them. “Hey you little goobers, get your hands off my woman!” Soap said, crouching down at their level before scooping them up and into his arms. Alejandro and Ghost snuck up behind Soap and grabbed each of them, sending them into a giggle fit. “Hello Miss, are you injured?” Soap asked, dropping his body down next to yours on the couch. “Other than my pride, solider, I am not,” You said, still laughing. You reached behind you grabbing a Santa hat behind you that you had been wearing. You placed the front of the hat on his hairline and adjusted it to the back accordingly, trying your best to not mess up his hair. “Aww look how cute you look,” You said, clapping your hands together. Soap took out his phone camera and admired himself before posing for a picture. “You’re a goofball” You giggled. “I’m YOUR goofball, and I know you’ll wanna that picture to make your background. Hm?” He said, a smile coming onto his face.

You tried to stop your smile from appearing but couldn't hide it. He was right; you were totally going to ask him to send that picture to you later. “Come on you two, we’re getting more drinks,” Ghost said, Alejandro, tailing right behind him. “Did you put the kids to sleep?” You asked. Alejandro nodded his head before disappearing into the kitchen with Simon. “Come on sweets, up and at ‘em,” Soap said, taking your hands in his and pulling you up from the couch. Soap kept his hand tangled in yours as you both walked to the kitchen and got some more drinks.

“No, because it’s total bullshit!”

You and Soap laughed with everyone else as Gaz and Laswell debated over who knows what, you lost track about 3 vodkas ago. You kept your palms wrapped around Soap’s arm, your head shaking slightly every time he laughed; whether at a stupid joke, the Gaz v Laswell debate, or even just watching Rudy’s face as Alejandro was getting him to take shots of the different tequila he had bought; seeing as Rodolfo was much of a drinker to begin with, the alcohol packed a punch for him.

“Johnny..” You mumbled. You felt his weight shift slightly. “Hm?” He hummed. “You’re so pretty” You smiled, moving your head so your chin was resting slightly on his bicep. “I’m pretty?” He laughed. You nodded and laughed, losing your balance, but Soap had placed his hand on the small of your back; so you weren’t going anywhere. “You hear that Simon, I’m pretty,” Soap said, sticking his chin up in the air.

“Ya pretty annoying” Ghost quipped, making the kitchen explode with laughter, even Ghost in his tipsy state let out a deep laugh. “Dont worry Ghost, you’re pretty too. Pretty man with pretty dimples” You said, leaning forward, making Soap readjust his grip on you. “Hermano, you had dimples? Let me see!” Alejandro said, trying to get Ghost, who refused, to show them again. You could feel your cheeks begin to hurt with how much you were smiling. 

“Johnny…” You said, poking his hips. “Yes, sweetheart?” He said. “What do you want for Christmas?” You said, even though you had already bought him all his christmas presents. “Nothing, I already have what I want for Christmas,” He said, flashing you a small mile. “What? What did you get?” You asked, slightly confused. “A beautiful woman, that loves me and puts up with my bullshit,” He said, looking you in the eyes, his smile still on his face. “Awwww!”You squealed before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and giving him what he would consider the best hug he’s ever been given. 

Alejandro made his way over to Soap, giving up on Ghost. You watched as Soap’s smile grew bigger and he looked up at the ceiling and back down at you. “What did Alejandro say?” You asked. Soap motioned up to the ceiling again with his eyes again and you finally saw it:

Mistletoe

“Come’re Santa and give me a smooch” You said, making everyone in the kitchen laugh. “Santa Soap doesn’t get ambushed so easily las,” Soap said, laughing at the kissy noises you were making and everyone chanting ‘kiss kiss kiss’. 

He finally gave in and planted his lips onto yours. All of Task Force 141 and the members of Los Vaqeruos that attended started to hoot and holler. Soap grabbed underneath your knee and dipped you down, practically scaring you half to death. You saw a flash out of the corner of your eye to see Price with a polaroid camera in his hand. “Dont worry, Y/N, you’ll get the picture I promise” He laughed. That’s one thing you loved about your comrades, they always took pictures for you when you were unable. You started pumping your fist in the air making everyone in the kitchen laugh. Soap turned you back to him before planting another quick kiss on your lips and connecting his forehead to yours.

“Merry Christmas Y/N..”

“Merry Christmas Johnny.”

[randomshitwhore]

okay so, for my Christmas present to you all before the year ends; I'm giving yall a Soap MacTavish x Reader fanfic; Christmas edition ;)

should be up on Christmas eve and maybe if y’all are good, you’ll get another post on Christmas day :). both posts will be up by 10pm!

[randomshitwhore]

Classified Intel {Philip Graves x Reader}

word count: 2.1k

pairing: philip graves x f!reader

summary: You are General Shepard's daughter and work for intelligence at your father's base. You help guide the shadows through a mission over comms. but you and one particular shadow have taken a liking for each other.

warnings: mentions of gunshots, pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart, darling)

AN: This is going to be a hidden romance type of gig in this fanfic; so if you hate stuff like this, sorry babe but this fic ain't for you. Be sure to check out the MASTERLIST!

“This is Mr.Philip Graves. He’s gonna be your main focus in intel, moving him and his team along in missions n such. Now Ima let you two get started on this paperwork, you come and find me when y’all are done, alright?” “Yes sir”

You heard the door click behind you and tried to let yourself relax. This was your first real job and you were honestly nervous you were gonna fuck everything up. “So…General Shepard has a daughter” You heard Graves say. “Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Graves.” You said, extending your hand. “Please, call me Philip. Mr.Graves makes me sound like the grim reaper or something wacky like that” He laughed taking your hand in his and placing his other on top, capturing your hand in between his own. You laughed softly but cleared your throat, wanting to keep yourself professional. “Then I ask you dont call me Ms. Shepard, makes me sound old,” You said. “Anything you ask sweetheart,” He said, flashing you a smile.

You felt your breath hitch slightly in your throat, but again, quickly and quietly cleared in before fixing the topic back. “Shall we um…proceed Mr.Gra-I mean Philip?”You said, motioning to your father’s desk, two packets with paperwork for Shadow Company’s next mission right in the middle. You reached for the packets and brought them to a small coffee table nearby. You sat down on one of the cushioned seats as Graves followed your every movement; still wanting to stay closer to you, he moved and placed himself right beside you, his leg slightly brushing up against yours. “I never caught your name by the way…Ms?” He said. “Y/N,” You said quickly. “Y/N…very beautiful name for a very beautiful girl,” He said, a smile coming to his face as his eyes moved slowly up and down your frame.

You felt a small smile come onto your own as your cheeks heated up. “Thank you, my father picked it out.” You said, picking at the nail polish on your nails. His hand took yours away from your hand and closed it again in his. “Pretty girls shouldn’t pick at their nail polish,” He said, moving his face slightly closer to yours. “Nervous girls do” You answered sheepishly. You both knew this was becoming unprofessional very quickly, but neither of you could bring yourselves to stop it.

“But not uncomfortable, I hope. I’d hate to make you feel that way” He said, not by much but just slightly backing up. You shook your head no, making him move closer to you again. “Y/N, if this isn’t pushing our relationship over a border, and please tell me if it is,” He said, backing up completely and taking both your hands in his. “It would honor me to ask you out on a date later this evening.” He said, moving his hands slightly up and down with every word. You sucked in your bottom lip and looked down at your lap. You tried to contemplate your options but figured you had already crossed borders that were unprofessional enough, so you agreed.

After that first date, You and Graves kept meeting and going over pamphlets full of information and possible flanking strategies to keep the enemy on their toes, but it was getting increasingly complex with Graves being up on you every time you met privately, physically or even his eyes just wandering. Each meeting became increasingly unprofessional as they went on. From subtle touches of your legs to hands to looks; to just full-on pecks on the cheek every time he saw you, this didn’t exclude your father from being around either. That’s the part that made you start to sweat. He just acted like your father was never there every time his lips met your cheek, and your father usually acted like nothing had happened though the first time, it’d be hard to say he wasn’t surprised. He even started to get bolder by calling you sweetheart and doll during the side missions your father sent him on and even in public around the base; earning some questionable looks and whispers from your co-workers.

Those pecks on the cheek turned into kisses, except your father nor anyone else was not around for those. Those were the private moments you shared when you hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days, or in Graves’s case, sometimes a couple of hours. The first kiss between you two was when he waited in an empty meeting room and grabbed you the moment you passed him, locking the door behind you and tapping the glass to black out anyone wanting to look in. 

“Philip are you okay? What’s wro-” You started but were cut off by Graves lips attaching to yours. This kiss wasn’t just any kiss, this kiss was filled with lust, wanting, and need. You gently closed your eyes as one of his arms latched around your waist and pulled you closer to him, wanting you all for himself and the other hand tangling itself in your hair. “What has gotten into you, Commander?”You laugh-mumbled into his lips. You knew he loved you, but you had never envisioned yourself in an empty meeting room with him practically throwing himself onto you like a toddler. His lips separated from yours, both of you sucking into large gasps of air. His forehead rested against yours, his thumb gently rubbing your left temple. “I can’t do this anymore…”He sighed, his eyes locked on the floor. 

You felt your breath catch in your lungs. “W-What do..you mean, you can’t do this anymore?” You asked, your eyes attempting to lock onto his. “I can’t…stay away from you anymore doll,” He said, meeting your gaze. Your breath caught again, but out of love. “Every time I see you, this is what I want to do. Let the world know, that I am in love with a drop-dead gorgeous woman! But I can’t, ‘cause your daddy would wring my neck out to dry.”He said, his hand leaving your hair and moving to his. “You deserve better than this Y/N. You dont deserve a man that pulls you into a conference room just to kiss you..” He said, moving away from you, planting his ass on top of the table, and letting his hands fall between his legs. 

You bit your lip, thinking about your response carefully not wanting to make him more upset than he already seemed. “What if that IS the man I want?” You pushed, making him look at you again. “What if I want a man that calls me a doll, or darling, or sweetheart, or baby, or any of that other sappy nickname stuff? What if I want a man that stares at me instead of listening to information about his own mission?” You said, making him laugh a little. You took in a deep breath. “What if…I want a man that pulls me into a meeting room and kisses me like I’ve never been kissed in my entire life?” You said, grabbing his face. “My dad doesn’t need to know about this. We both want one another dont we?”

“Yes..” “Then fuck what everyone else thinks”

Soon the day finally came. The day everyone had been waiting for…Operation Dark Water.

“Shadow 0-1 to Silver Eagle, how copy?”You heard Graves’s voice come through your headset. “Loud and Clear Shadow 0-1. You and your squad ready?”You answered back, your leg bouncing underneath your desk. This was the first time Graves was away from you since you had first met. You were worried. You and your father knew how dangerous this mission was, he knew the risks. “Silver Eagle to Brave 0-7, Ghost, and Alejandro also with his squad; how copy?” You asked. You got confirmation from all of them, hearing all their voices one at a time come in. “Shadow 0-1 and Alejandro, you have clearance to engage,” You spoke into your headset. “Please be careful Philip…”You silently prayed, watching his dot on your maps shoot across the ocean.

You kept your eyes trained on the boy’s dots, guiding them to possible rooms around the oil rig; listening to the gunshots ring out, and watching the heart rate monitors on the boys as well. The silence killed you, knowing he was in harm’s way terrified you; but hearing his voice over the radio soothed you, listening to him be the powerful and fearless man you knew him to be. “All shadows, missiles on the helipad!” Graves’s voice cut through the radio silence. You felt your heart rate increase, sliding your body over to a computer to see one of the boy’s camera feeds. You watched Soap’s feed as he and Graves reached the fake shipping container and opened it; only to be meant with disconnected wires. “Where are the controls?”

“On that damn ship…” Graves answered, gritting his teeth in frustration.

You felt your heart skip a beat, how could they not be on the oil rig? You had planned this attack for weeks, how could you have missed this?

“Silver Eagle….Y/N!!” Graves's voice came crashing into your head. “Controls are somewhere on that ship” Graves spoke. You sucked in a deep breath, knowing the words your father would want to hear, but not the ones you wanted to say.

“You have your orders, Commander. Stop that missile from launching…”

You watched as the boat crashed onto the ship, throwing your lover's body quite a distance but not enough to cause any harm. You fiddled with your and Philip's special earpiece, untraceable and on a completely separate channel from the ones you both used. You watched as Soap shot off in a direction with Ghost, you took your chance, walked a short distance away where you could still monitor the other half of the boys but not be heard, and pressed your earpiece.

“Philip?”

“What's up, baby?”

You felt your breath lock in your throat, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Are…Are you okay?”You said, swiping your tongue across your bottom lip. “Sweetheart, I'm fine. You worry about me too much. The question I have for you is, are you okay?” He asked as he fired off a couple gunshot rounds. “Mhm, I'm fine. Why?” You asked, picking at your nail polish. “Funny, ‘cause your daddy’s telling me your pacing back and forth…and now your picking at your nail polish,” He said, instantly making you press your hands behind you. “What did I tell you about you and your nail polish, sweet pea?” He said. “Dont do it..”You mumbled.

“And why dont we pick at our nail polish?” “Because…”

“Because why, Y/N? Come on baby, I need to hear you say it” He cooed. You felt your cheeks heat up. “Because pretty girls dont pick at their nail polish” You sighed with a smile on your face. “Good girl..”He said, gently before walking into the balcony of control and taking down more enemy soldiers. You made your way back to your team, feeling a lot better knowing Graves was safe and breathing. You turned around to see your father in a window gallery, his eyes on you. You mouthed ‘stop’, making your father chuckle slightly.

“Shadow 0-1, Bravo 0-7, and 7-1, what’s your status?” You asked, already knowing the answer. “Just got to the control room, Silver Eagle, preparing to disengage missile,” Graves said into the radio. “Silver Eagle, Missile is in boost phase about to burn, how copy?” Graves asked into the radio. You froze and whipped your head around to your father, not knowing what path to take. He looked you in the eyes and nodded. “Solid, Commander. If we can disengage, we detonate..” You said, the command room going quiet. This move was risky, but it was the only option you had. “Roger, Silver. Stand by.” Graves said, sounding, for the first time in the night, afraid of the outcome of your decision. 

You watched from body cams as Soap punched in codes Graves ordered him to and listened to Ghost ordering Alejandro and his men to evacuate the rig before the missile shot back into it. You held your breath as the final code was punched in. “All stations prepare for the boom!”Graves’s voice crackled into the radio. “Missle away” Ghost confirmed as you watched his body cam, watching the missile do a U-turn and shoot straight into the rig. You and your team begin to celebrate, as well as the boys; in their own way. “Shadow-1 to Silver Eagle, Good hit. Good hit. Missile and rig destroyed” Graves said, obviously with a huge smile across his face. “Copy Shadow-1. Hustle up boys and get off the rig, and back home. Good job gentlemen, well done” You said, shutting down your power controls and removing your headset, but not before hearings Graves’s voice one last time through your earpiece:

“Hang tight babygirl. I’m coming your way as fast as I possibly can..”

[randomshitwhore]

this isn’t an ask nor a request but wanted to say that i read your eddie ff a while ago and lost your account but came up on you again reading your ghost ff and dare do i say i was so happy to see your account again, just thought you should know.!

much love <3

-m

awwww! thank you! so glad you could find me again!!!