simon pulls down his surgical mask for the first time, it's strange not wearing something that covers the rest of his face. but he's been discharged now, there's no point in dressing like an angel of death, he doesn't like the scars on his face, but he promised johnny he'd show up to this cafe in glasgow. and here he is, alone. grief works in funny ways.
the barista, you, looked small, almost mousy, behind the coffee machine as you pumped syrups into the coffee. he liked his coffee flavourful, and johnny always swore by this little cafe's vanilla syrup, said they made it in house.
his eyes catch yours, big and wide behind your glasses. his lips are chapped, crusted and there's a patch that's bleeding. you frown, it's fucking cold out, it's eight degrees.
“you're going to burn yourself if you don't blow on it.” you call out, the shop only has him as a patron, with it being 1pm on a working day. nobody is relaxing in a cafe, but you have some uber orders to finish.
“fuck off.” he flips you off with a middle finger, but there's a smile on his cracked lips that diminishes all your fear.
you're here because you're trying to make some extra cash whilst doing your masters, hands raw from scrubbing dishes and then the table. you stare at him for a while, the way his blonde hair almost shines when the sun shines.
your headphones just died, and there's nothing you hate more than silence, and so you attempt conversation with him. it's halted, stilted, he speaks in short bursts, just letting you ramble on for a while.
there's an extra blondie you left out for yourself, the owner lets you take a few misshapen baked goods after your shift, but as yours comes to a close you still look at him. the coffee was finished an hour ago, but he still didn't leave.
“hey.” a pause, you place the plate in front of him. “sorry about the…constant bullshit.”
he gives a small smile again, it feels like it pains him.
“nah, i missed someone yapping away.”
simon riley finally comes out of mourning that day. a blondie and a phone number in hand if he ever wants to hear anyone “talk”. for a while.
Everyone knows that Soap gets distracted easily when he doesn't have anything to focus. Outside of missions he gets restless and if he is bored he shouldn't be left without supervision.
They made it to the safehouse, got a good night's sleep and had another day to spend until transport was ready and would be on mandatory leave for the next two weeks. So of course they were talking about their plans.
Price had promised Kyle to show him his cabin by the lake and nobody commented on the faint blush under his beard or how Kyle's touch lingered a bit longer than usual. To be honest Soap and Ghost were betting on who would catch the kissing first.
Ghost didn't have plans so he was actually contemplating taking Soaps offer to stay at his house for a while.
"Honestly, ye should see what ma bonnie made of that place. Real cozy now." Soap was talking away, not noticing the other three staring at him.
"Come again? Your whatnow?" Asked Kyle.
"My Bonnie? The missus? Ma wife? You forgot about my wife?" Johnny seemed to be undecided whether to be angry or confused.
"Soap... You never told any of us. You mentioned a bird now and then. You mean to tell us it was the same one the whole time? You been stable? Since when?"
Now that made Soap think. "Ah mean.. known her forever. Stable for some years now, as stable as we can be. Proposed last summer we just didn't get around actually speaking the vows." He looked a bit sheepish. "Ah never told you? Sure 'bout that?"
Price didn't know how to react, other than: "You better marry her as soon as you are in the same country. If she hasn't left you by now she will never and you need to make sure the paperwork is all set up, just in case."
"And you should probably introduce us, so she won't be scared if one of us appeared on your doorstep." Kyle added.
"Actually, we can do that right now, we have a satellite connection."
Johnny was still trying to remember if he really had forgotten to mention the most important person in his life to the other most important people in his life, so he just acted on autopilot when Kyle shoved a tablet in his hands, starting a video call.
They all gathered around the screen, watching as the lights flickered and a disheveled face came into view, round face, sleepy eyes, hair sticking in every direction.
"Tha' you babe? You alive?" Johnny immediately had a smile plastered on his face. "Alive and kicking, didn't even get shot. Listen, sorry I woke you, wasn't my idea. But remember we planned our wedding to be with all friends and family and my captain could stand in for you dad since he is not invited and all and. Maybe I forgot to tell them.. about you.. like.. ya ken?" He sounded not as nervous as someone should sound who forgot his fiancé as soon as he was away.
You just blinked. "Johnny... Are you serious?" It was hard to tell if you were angry or not. "Okay, I just want to know: Did you forget because you already did it in your head or because you forgot to remember?"
"Bit of both? Bit like you forgot to tell your sister." Johnny admitted, grinning.
You giggled "Oh that was fun. Well, when she talked to me again. Oh, I should call her." You got up, apparently already forgetting you were on a call, looking for something. They could see your bedroom, organised chaos, plants, some pictures of Johnny, all in all a cozy home.
"Have you seen my laptop?" You wondered, confused when you heard a snort from Ghost. "What.. ooh... Hi there. You must be Ghost, yeah? Good thing you wear that mask, I am terrible with faces. And you are Gaz, right? You're pretty. Johnny he is so pretty, why am I marrying you again?"
"Because you love me and nobody else can tolerate either of us so we are stuck with each other?" came the answer like a well used banter.
"True. I do love you. But I also haven't slept for two days because I was building something. A surprise. When are you home? Don't tell me, just text. Please. Bring the boys. Oh, Captain Price, could you marry us? Or is that just a Ship Captain thing? Might be, I never cared, but that would be very practical. Give me a week to get everyone together and we could have the ceremony in the backyard, I can wait with the new greenhouse, so we would have the space." You were making notes on something that looked like a pizza box, lost in thoughts already.
You seemed to have forgotten you were still on the call, writing down things. Until you heard Price laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.
"Oh, I drifted. Sorry, didn't take my meds, I promise I'm better at this when I sleep. So.. are you coming to the wedding or not? And bring my future husband with you, in case he forgets again."
You were not angry at all. One of the reasons they worked was that you never got angry with each other about stuff like that. You knew each other for too long to try and change or 'fix' the other. If there was a problem or hurt feelings you would address it and work on a solution.
Ghost just looked at Soap. "You really found that one girl with even less ability to focus, did ya?"
Johnny just nodded happily, "She is absolutely perfect."
Synopsis: You are the choas in motion, warmth without a filter, a thousand unfished thoughts in one place. Whereas, Xavier is steady hands, quite observation, and patience that never asks you to be anything else.
A quiet story about two people learning how to share a home, a routine and eventually a life together.
Pairing : Xavier x (F) reader/non MC
Content: alternative universe (modern setting), slice of life, neurodevelopmental condition (reader has ADHD), fluff, comort, teasing/suggestive,slow burn, rommates to friends to lovers
Author's note : This is my first-ever request, and it was written for the lovely @chosen17. Thank you for your patience and for giving me this opportunity. I sincerely hope you enjoy the story! 💖
Word count: 6,557
For context, here's the original request:
SOMEWHERE BETWEEN
CHAOS AND CARE
You place the last cardboard box into the boot of the car.
“I believe that's the last one,” you say, slamming it shut.
“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask, turning to face your friend, Chelsea.
She nods.
“If you happen to find anything of mine, just put it aside and I'll pick it up sometime later,” she says.
Chelsea - your best friend and roommate of three years - is moving out of your shared apartment to live with her boyfriend.
You're happy for her. Jake is a great guy - a total golden retriever of a man, a softie who absolutely adores Chelsea.
Even so, you can't help but feel a little sad to see her go.
“When are you expecting your new roommate?”
Right.
Your new roommate.
When Chelsea informed the landlady she was moving out, the response had been simple: either pay the full rent yourself or find someone to take Chelsea's place. As far as the landlady was concerned, it made no difference who lived there, so long as the rent was paid on time.
“Umm…” you hum hesitantly, rocking from one foot to the other as you stare at the ground.
“Don't tell me you forgot!” Chelsea crosses her arms.
“I told you not to leave it up to me,” you mumble under your breath.
The truth is, while the idea of living alone sounds appealing, you simply can't afford the rent on your own.
“I put up an advertisement,” you quickly say in your defense.
“When?” Chelsea asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“This morning…”
You trail off.
“At... three a.m.” you practically whisper.
Chelsea stares at you in disbelief.
“But someone already contacted me,” you add quickly. “They're coming to look at the apartment later today.”
Chelsea opens her mouth but her words are cut off by the sound of the car horn.
“We need to get going!” Jake calls from the driver's seat, waving through the open window.
Chelsea walks around to the passenger side.
She throws her arms around you in a tight hug before opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat.
You walk over to Jake's side of the car and rest your forearms on the open window frame, looking at him with a serious expression.
“Listen carefully. If Chelsea ever ends up blowing up my phone or knocking on my door at midnight because of your sorry ass… I'm taking her back.”
Chelsea bursts into laughter.
Jake visibly gulps.
“Yes, ma'am,” he says with a nod.
You step back and wave as the car pulls out of the parking lot and disappears down the road.
…
An hour later, you absentmindedly sway on your heels outside the main entrance of your apartment building, humming to yourself as you wait for your potential new roommate to arrive.
You glance down at your phone. They should be here soon. Good thing you set a timer as a reminder since you’re known to get sidetracked.
“Excuse me?” a soft, gentle voice breaks you out of your daze from behind your back.
You lean back slightly and look up at the man.
You quickly straighten up, spinning around to face him properly.
The man before you looks to be in his early twenties. His hair is silver-blond, and his eyes remind you of the crystal-blue waters surrounding a tropical island.
“My name is Xavier.” He introduces himself.
“Are you the one I'm supposed to be meeting about the free room?” he asks, his voice calm and gentle.
“Aren't you a cutie!” you blurt out, voicing the very first thought that comes to mind.
He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected compliment.
You punch in the code to unlock the entrance.
“...Follow me,” you say, motioning for him to follow you.
Xavier follows you through the lobby and toward the elevator at the end of the hallway, passing rows of postboxes belonging to the building's residents.
When the elevator chimes, the doors slide open. You both step inside, and you press the button for the seventh floor.
“I'm Y/N, by the way,” you add with a smile just as the elevator doors close, offering him your hand.
He shakes it, his hand feels sold and warm in yours.
…
You let Xavier step inside before closing the door behind you.
You kick off your sandals, aiming them in the general direction of the built-in shoe rack by the door.
“You don't have to take your shoes off,” you say as Xavier bends down to untie the laces of his sneakers.
He removes them anyway and places them neatly on an empty spot on the rack.
“Sooo…” you drawl, wondering where to begin.
“Let me give you the grand tour. Even though this is a two-bedroom apartment, it's fairly small.” You shrug.
Still standing in the hallway, you open the door on your left.
“This is the bathroom.”
Xavier peers inside without stepping in.
The bathroom consists of a sink with cupboards underneath and a mirrored cabinet above. Opposite the sink are a washing machine with a dryer stacked on top. Along the back wall sits a bathtub.
“And that's the toilet.” You point to another door a little farther down the hallway on the right.
You continue deeper into the apartment.
“The kitchen, dining area, and living room are all one open space,” you explain.
To the left is a compact kitchen. Sitting on top of the fridge is a microwave. Beside it are the kitchen counter, sink, and stovetop, with cupboards above and below.
Opposite is a small kitchen island with nothing but a coffee machine sitting on top.
To the right is a simple dining area - just a small square wooden table with two matching chairs.
Sharing the same wall as the kitchen is an L-shaped sofa. A coffee table sits in front of it, while a television rests on a TV stand between the two bedroom doors.
“This is the available bedroom.” You push open the door nearest to the dining table.
Xavier walks inside, quietly looking around.
The room is modest, furnished with only the essentials.
A bed sits in the centre of the room with a bedside table beside it.
A large window on the left lets in the afternoon sunlight, while a desk and chair stand against the opposite wall.
Across from the bed, a sliding-door wardrobe stretches across the entire wall.
Your own bedroom is laid out in a similar manner.
“I like how bright it is,” Xavier remarks, turning to face you.
You push yourself away from the doorframe.
“Come on,” you say, motioning for him to follow.
Sliding open the glass door, you step onto a narrow balcony overlooking the residential neighbourhood. It's small but still large enough to fit two chairs and a tall table.
…
You head back inside and plop down in the middle of the couch, bouncing slightly as you land.
Xavier sits at the opposite end.
“…So… I guess we should go over a few things.” You reach for the notes you'd prepared beforehand.
“The room is available immediately. No pets and no smoking indoors. Rent is three hundred euros a month, plus one hundred euros for utilities.” You read.
“If you have a car, you’ll have to enquire about available parking and cost with the building manager.” You add.
You toss the list onto the coffee table and look at Xavier expectantly.
“What do you think? Any questions?”
Xavier has barely said a word since entering the apartment.
“I understand this is a shared space.” He begins.
You nod.
“…So when do I get to meet my roommate?”
“You already have.” You chuckle.
“My roommate Chelsea just moved out. Today, actually. She moved in with her boyfriend. And while I wouldn't mind having the place all to myself…” You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. “...I'm kind of broke.”
“You? You’d be my roommate?” Xavier asks, blinking in surprise.
You give him a small wave and a lopsided grin.
“Don't take this the wrong way…” he says carefully, “...but isn't that a little... unconventional... considering we're opposite genders?”
“I grew up with three older brothers,” you reply matter-of-factly.
“You'll have your own room, and every door has a lock.”
“In truth, I thought you were the rental agent or the building manager,” Xavier admits.
“I guess I didn't really think about gender when I posted the listing,” you admit.
“If you decide to move in, I’m sure we can come up with some ground rules that respect each other's privacy.” You add as reassurance.
Living under the same roof as someone else is completely new to Xavier.
Having recently graduated from college and landed a job as a high school physics teacher, he'd been hit with the sudden news that the apartment building he'd lived in for the past few years had been sold. The new owner gave every resident just two weeks' notice to move out.
Balancing work while trying to find a new place to live on such short notice hasn't been easy.
“Can I grow plants on the balcony?” Xavier suddenly asks.
“Sure.”
Then you grin.
“But don't expect me to be your accomplice or bail you out of jail.”
Understanding the reference, Xavier gives you an amused look.
You shift into a cross-legged position on the couch.
“I should warn you. Living with me comes with some... difficulties. One that may be a deal breaker.”
You give him your best sad puppy eyes.
“I have ADHD.”
“I've heard the term,” Xavier says. “But why would that be a deal breaker?”
“In my case, it’ll be like living with a hyperactive child who's had far too much sugar.”
“Then it'll be just like being at school.” Xavier jokes.
At your puzzled look, he adds, “I'm a high school teacher.”
“Cute and smart.” You smile playfully. “That's a dangerous combination.”
A faint blush dusts Xavier's cheeks.
“Anyway…” You steer the conversation back. “My biggest symptom is hyperactivity, mainly physical.”
Xavier had already noticed. Ever since he arrived, you've barely stopped moving, constantly fidgeting, shifting positions, and bouncing your leg.
“I also talk. Like a lot.” You emphasize the last two words.
“My mouth is quicker than my brain and I tend to blurt things out without thinking beforehand. I also have no filter, but I consider that more of a personality trait.” You wink.
“At times I interrupt others during conversations which is understandably rude. And I'm not exactly the world's greatest listener.”
“So go ahead and tell me all your secrets. I'll either immediately forget them or get distracted halfway through.”
That earns a quiet chuckle from Xavier.
“My mind is constantly in overdrive with racing thoughts. I get distracted easily and struggle to stay focused, especially on boring things like cleaning. So the apartment often looks like a tornado passed through it.”
Xavier glances around the spotless apartment.
“My old roommate Chelsea cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom before moving out,”you explain quickly.
“I don't mind doing chores,” Xavier says with a gentle smile. “I actually find them relaxing.”
“But…” His smile fades slightly. “I’m not a very good cook.”
“Well, aren't we a pair?”
You laugh awkwardly.
“Out of fear of setting the apartment on fire, I chose not to cook.”
Then you brighten.
“Lucky for us, there's a convenience store open twenty-four hours a day in the neighborhood. If you do decide to move in, I'd be happy to show you around.”
Xavier stands.
“Do you mind if I think it over?”
“Of course.” You can't quite hide the disappointment in your voice.
…
You walk Xavier all the way out to the entrance.
“Thank you for taking the time to show me around,” Xavier says as he steps outside the building.
“I promise I'll let you know my decision as soon as possible.”
You grin mischievously. “I do hope you say yes. I'd hate for all that eye candy to go to waste.”
Before he can recover from your shameless comment, you duck back inside the building.
——————————————————————
Xavier watches as you practically skip into the convenience store you'd mentioned to him upon your first meeting as he grabs a shopping basket.
The very same day of meeting you, he'd contacted a rental agency to help him find an apartment.
A few days later, he'd spent an entire evening after work viewing available apartments with an agent, only to find fault with every single one. Some were too far from his workplace, others were in noisy neighbourhoods, or beyond his budget.
With time quickly running out, he'd decided to take the risk and contact you.
Fortunately, the room was still available.
He'd arrived this morning alongside a friend who'd helped him out by moving his belongings.
“Are you planning on turning the balcony into a forest?” you remarked as Xavier placed yet another potted plant on the balcony.
He averted his gaze, scratching his chin sheepishly.
You didn't give him time to dwell on the matter or unpack another box before pulling him out of the apartment to show him around the neighbourhood.
…
“I used to work here not too long ago,” you muse, peering through the fridge stocked with pre-packaged meals.
“Because of the better pay, I worked alone on the night shifts.”
“I can't imagine working night shifts,” Xavier admits, placing a few items into his basket.
“Did you leave because you found something better?”
“Not quite. Being alone with so few customers was incredibly boring, so one night I decided to reorganize the entire store. I reorganized the items on the shelves by colour, but not the price tags, and half the items ended up on the floor after I lost motivation and interest, which wasn't appreciated.”
Xavier gives you a bewildered look.
“The manager then moved me to the afternoon shift. The morning and afternoon shifts are worked in pairs, meaning I'd have someone to supervise me,” you explain.
“However, my colleagues complained that I got on their nerves, and some customers complained that I had an attitude whenever they were rude to me. In the end, I got fired.”
You bite your bottom lip.
“I find it hard to keep a long-term job.”
“Where do you work now?” Xavier asks, without a hint of judgment.
“I work part-time at a second-hand clothing store,” you beam. “The owner is super eccentric.”
“Come, I'll show you.”
You grab his wrist, but before you can pull him away, Xavier gently catches your hand and stops you in your tracks.
“Maybe we should finish our shopping first,” he suggests, lifting the basket in his other hand.
You offer him a sheepish, apologetic smile.
…
I found a new roommate. They just moved in today.
You type to Chelsea.
So soon? Congrats, girl! What's your first impression of them?
Chelsea types back almost immediately.
They're cute and have this really calm aura about them.
You type after a moment's thought.
I hope that calm aura rubs off on you. Try not to scare them away.
Chelsea teases.
Pray to the gods for me. Wish me luck!
You type.
——————————————————————
“Xavier,” you whine, “have you seen my phone?”
“You’re talking to me on it.”
You take the phone away from your ear and stare at it in betrayal.
“You wouldn’t also happen to know where my keys are?”
“I believe they were on the TV stand,” he replies.
You go over and, sure enough, there they are.
“...That explains a lot.”
——————————————————————
Days turn into weeks as Xavier slowly gets used to living under the same roof as you.
Sure, it takes some getting used to for both of you, but before long, you settle comfortably into each other's company.
To a stranger, it would most likely seem as though you'd always lived together, judging by how comfortable you are around one another.
Xavier quickly understood why you claimed living with you would more than likely be challenging.
He'd done some research on neurodevelopmental disorders - ADHD, in your case - reading through various articles in hopes of gaining a better understanding and making your living arrangement as comfortable as possible.
Although his research gave him a general understanding, every person is different. In the end, he found it best to simply observe you quietly, which came naturally to him since he'd always been an observant person.
…
If he had to describe you in one word, and one word only, it would be: chaos.
Xavier is more of a homebody who enjoys spending his free time watching movies, caring for his plants, reading books, or playing PC games.
You, on the other hand, are always doing something or going somewhere, to the point that it seems you've made it your mission to drag Xavier along.
Not that he minds.
Unlike Linkon City - the city where he'd lived his entire life and still commuted to for work - Bloomshore District has a down-to-earth charm where one can find a sense of tranquillity.
One that has a lot of hidden gems which you’ve gladly shown him.
Such as the small second-hand bookshop where he's purchased many timeless classics.
Going out with you always feels like going on a little treasure hunt.
Xavier had noticed something curious.
While you frequently forgot appointments, misplaced everyday objects, and became distracted halfway through conversations...
You never forget people.
The elderly woman at the bakery.
The stray cat that only appeared on Tuesdays.
You remembered every tiny detail that mattered to someone else.
…
Just as you involve Xavier in your activities, you eagerly take part in his as well.
Although, the first time you did, it didn't go particularly well.
One quiet evening, Xavier had innocently suggested you watch a movie together.
“Is there anything you'd like to watch?” he asks, reaching for the remote.
“I don't really watch TV,” you admit. “Pick something you like. I'm happy with anything.” you say, browsing the selection of snacks and drinks.
You pour the popcorn into a large bowl before settling back onto the couch with it resting on your lap.
“I hope what I picked is okay. I'm a big fan of horror, and I haven't seen this one yet,” he says, starting the movie.
You do your best to sit still, keeping your full attention on the screen as you munch on the popcorn.
That is, until a jump scare appears.
With a startled scream, you jump so violently that popcorn flies everywhere.
Xavier hastily pauses the movie.
“Are you alright? I didn't realize it would scare you that much,” he says, looking at you with concern.
“Sorry…” you groan.
“...I got distracted by the bowl and forgot I was watching a horror movie.”
Xavier merely shakes his head.
“Nothing that can't be cleaned up,” he reassures you.
A playful smile tugs at his lips as he plucks a piece of popcorn from your hair.
“Looks like you've turned into a popcorn monster,” he jokes, making you laugh.
…
Standing by the doorway, slipping on your shoes, Xavier places lunch in your bag.
He zips it up without you even noticing before you wave goodbye and head out to work.
…
You do indeed talk a lot, but Xavier finds himself captivated by every story you have to tell.
And true, you do tend to ramble in a way that leaves little room for Xavier to and at times you interrupt him.
When you do, he doesn’t call you out or accuse you of being rude or inconsiderate.
He simply remains patient and quiet and you eventually realize your mistake and circle back to the conversation, giving him the chance to speak.
The one thing he still struggles to get used to is your so-called "lack of filter," because you're forever catching him off guard.
Especially with your shameless flirting.
…
One instance that comes to mind happened not too long ago.
Having just taken a shower, Xavier stepped out of the bathroom with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a towel draped around his shoulders, using one end to dry his hair.
He failed to register the sound of the front door opening before you burst inside and came face-to-face with his bare chest.
Instead of apologizing, getting embarrassed or playing it cool, you shamelessly stared at his physique, running your hands over his chest and forearms, openly admiring him.
“Is this what they call a sleeper build?”
Flustered, Xavier grabbed your wrists and retreated to his room, though not before hearing you call after him,
“Feel free to walk around the apartment like that more often!”
——————————————————————
“Are you fed up with always having to tidy up after me?” you ask, sitting at the dining table as Xavier does the dishes.
“I told you from the beginning that I don't mind doing the household chores,” he reminds you. “It's not like it takes long to clean up given how small the apartment is.”
“But still... it's unfair.” You fidget with your fingers.
“This is a shared space. You shouldn't have to do everything on your own. Don't you ever get angry when you clean only for the place to be a mess again not long after because of me?”
Xavier catches the sadness in your voice.
He knows you never make a mess on purpose. You simply have a habit of jumping from one activity to another and don't always realize you need to clean up after yourself.
At the same time, you also seem to overlook the fact that whenever you do return to a room and notice your "mess," you always tidy it up and put everything back where it belongs.
And, in your defence, with such a compact open-plan apartment, it doesn't take much for the place to look untidy.
Whenever Xavier comes home after work, he can always tell where you've been and what you've been doing.
“I really am difficult to live with, aren't I?” You say quietly.
Xavier looks at you over his shoulder.
“Where did that come from?”
“Everyone always says they don't mind at first…”
You look away.
“...Eventually they do.”
Xavier dries his hands on a tea towel before walking over to you.
“But you do help,” he says, taking your hands in his. “You're helping right now. Whenever you see me cleaning, you always ask if I need a hand.”
He gives your hands a gentle squeeze.
“Do you really think I'm so shallow that I'd get angry with you for leaving a few things lying around?” he asks, a small pout tugging at his lips.
You shake your head before smiling up at him.
“I guess I really lucked out with a roommate as considerate as you.” Your smile softens. “You're a good friend, Xavier.”
——————————————————————
Xavier unlocks the apartment door and notices the lights are still on.
“Y/N?”
No answer.
He follows the trail of paint-stained tissues toward your bedroom.
You sit cross-legged on the floor, completely surrounded by clay, paint, bottles, scraps of cardboard and tiny decorations.
“...Y/N?”
You hum absentmindedly, never looking up.
“Dinner?”
“...Mhm.”
“Did you eat?”
Silence.
Xavier glanced at the clock.
20:30.
The sandwich he'd made you that morning still sat untouched on your desk.
“...You've been here since I left, haven't you?”
You finally looked up.
“...Have I?”
You blinked toward the window.
“...Why is it dark?”
——————————————————————
“Umm... are you looking for something?” Xavier asks as he walks into the kitchen, having just returned from work.
You are sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by piles of paper, glass, plastic, and cardboard.
It looks as though you've emptied all of the recycling bins.
“Did you accidentally throw something away?” he asks.
“I'm just re-recycling,” you reply, pushing yourself to your feet before bending down to pick up a half-full rubbish bag.
Carefully stepping over the piles without stepping on anything, you head toward your bedroom.
Xavier follows behind, wearing a puzzled expression.
…
Xavier has never been inside your room, just as you've never stepped foot inside his.
The layout mirrors his own bedroom, just with your own personal… twist.
Folded clothes sit in stacks beside the wardrobe and at the foot of the bed, while others are draped over the desk chair or thrown haphazardly in the hamper.
Your desk is protected by a large plastic sheet. An open laptop sits among colourful markers, tubes of paint - some uncapped - paintbrushes soaking in musky glasses of water.
Above it, several shelves line the wall. Unlike his, which are filled with books, yours are crammed with strange objects he can't quite identify.
Along the walls, piles of what appear to be rubbish are sorted into separate stacks.
“You really don't like cleaning,” he teases, glancing around the cluttered room.
“I do clean,” you protest. “It just gets messy again.”
“Is there a reason you're turning your bedroom into a junkyard?” he asks, gesturing toward the piles.
“It's art material.”
You pull him over to your desk.
Reaching up to one of the shelves, you take down a small handcrafted fairy house before placing it into his hands.
“I use recycled materials together with clay to make these... mystical fairy houses.” You smile proudly. “At least, that's what I call them.”
Xavier studies the tiny house before slowly looking around the room.
Only now does he realize the shelves are filled with dozens of similar creations, each completely different from the last.
“You made all of these?” he asks, clearly impressed.
You nod.
“I sell them online through a handmade crafts marketplace.”
“They help put food on the table whenever I'm between jobs.”
The last sentence is barely above a whisper.
“They're creative,” he says honestly. “I think they'd make perfect gifts for anyone who loves fantasy.”
“Oh!”
Your eyes widen.
“I completely forgot.”
You reach for another shelf.
“I actually made this one for you a while ago, but I completely forgot to give it to you.”
You place the fairy house into his hands.
The top is left completely open, allowing him to look straight inside. Tiny lights glow within, revealing a miniature classroom, where a winged figure resembling Xavier stands beside a blackboard.
——————————————————————
“Five minutes!” you call from your room.
Xavier has already finished making breakfast.
Packed his lunch.
And watered every plant.
Twenty-five minutes later...
“...Five minutes?” he calls.
“Almost!”
Another ten minutes passed.
You emerge proudly.
“See? Five minutes.”
——————————————————————
“I’m home,” you call into the apartment.
Xavier comes to meet you at the door, taking the shopping bags from your hands.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He gently takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom door before pushing it open and stepping inside.
You glance around. It is still your room - only now it’s clean. Spotless, in fact.
“When you brought me in here the other day to show me your creations, I realized what you were lacking was storage to keep everything organized,” he says, stopping beside a wheeled utility drawer unit.
“I sorted all your supplies into cases and labeled everything,” he explains, pulling open a drawer to show you what he means.
“This should help keep things more tidy and make it easier for you.”
“I hope you don’t mind me invading your privacy,” he adds slowly, noticing your silence.
“Xavier, this is awesome!” you beam. “A brilliant idea - exactly what I needed. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
Xavier shrugs. “I had some time to spare since it’s currently school break.”
You can’t contain your joy and pull him into a hug. He freezes for a moment, startled, before quickly relaxing, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
…
“Have you seen my glue gun?”
Xavier blinks
“...The one in Drawer Three labelled 'Glue Guns'?”
You stares.
“...I have a drawer for glue guns?”
——————————————————————
You enter the kitchen intending to wash the mugs you’ve been collecting in your bedroom.
On the way, you notice Xavier has left a pile of your clean clothes on the couch.
Back in your room, you spot the plant Xavier gave you drooping, so you take a watering can to fill it up.
At the sink, you notice dirty cutlery.
You wash a spoon first.
Then wander off, still holding it.
Soon after, Xavier finds a watering can left full on the dining table.
The spoon is on the couch.
The mugs remain untouched by the sink.
——————————————————————
“Please tell me you’re still at the apartment!” Xavier’s voice rings through the phone the second you answer.
He sounds slightly out of breath, almost in a panic.
“I am,” you confirm, setting your paintbrush down.
“Can you go into my room and see if I left a stack of test papers on the desk?”
You get up, holding the phone to your ear as you walk into his bedroom.
“Yep, they’re here,” you confirm, switching the phone to your other ear.
Xavier sighs in frustration.
“I got up late this morning, and in my rush not to be late, I left them behind. I know I’m asking a lot, but can you deliver them to me? I need them for my upcoming lessons,” he pleads.
“Fear not. I’ve got you covered. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you say before hanging up.
You carefully place the stack of papers into a backpack. Just before heading out, you pause to grab your helmet and keys.
Your motorcycle will be a lot faster than the bus.
…
You turn the corner and head down the hallway in the direction Xavier is supposed to be, as indicated by a staff member you luckily bumped into.
Stopping outside a classroom, you rise onto your tiptoes to peek through the small window in the door.
There he is.
Without knocking, you open the door and stride inside.
“Found you! Sorry it took so long, but when I got here I realized the school gates were locked, so I had to climb over the wall. Then I found the main entrance was locked too, so I climbed in through an open window. Talk about breaking and entering,” you say in one breath.
“Anyway, here are your papers.” You reach into your backpack.
Xavier simply stares at you, making no move to take the stack from your hands.
You slowly turn your head.
An entire classroom of teenagers is staring back at you.
“Oops,” is all you manage to say.
“Sir, who is she?” one student asks curiously.
“Is she your girlfriend?” another boy teases, earning a chorus of snickers and whispers from the class.
A playful idea immediately pops into your head.
You slip your arm through Xavier's and turn toward the students with a bright smile.
“That's right,” you announce. “You caught us red-handed.”
Xavier looks at you in complete bewilderment.
You simply grin back at him and flutter your eyelashes.
“So, ladies... I'm afraid this man is taken.”
More laughter ripples through the classroom.
“Anyway...” You let go of Xavier's arm. “I'll see you at home later.”
You plant a quick kiss on his cheek before skipping out of the classroom.
However, a moment later, you poke your head back around the door.
“Umm... could someone tell me how to get out of this building without climbing through windows or scaling walls?”
You offer the class a sheepish grin.
——————————————————————
You hum under your breath to the song playing softly through the restaurant speakers, absentmindedly swaying in your seat as you eat.
For a while, only the sounds of the simmering broth and clinking chopsticks fill the space between you.
Then Xavier speaks.
“...Don't you ever get bored?”
You glance up from your bowl.
“Spending so much of your free time with me?”
You blink in surprise.
“What about your family?” he asks. “Or your other friends?”
You rest your chopsticks across your bowl.
“My family is... a little overbearing. They never really liked the idea of me living alone.”
“And as for friends..." You shrug. "Chelsea and you are really the only ones I have.”
“That doesn't seem right.”
You absentmindedly stir the broth.
“Relationships can be... difficult when your brain works a little differently.”
Xavier waits quietly, giving you time to continue.
“I forget things that matter. I interrupt people without meaning to. My mouth usually starts talking before my brain has finished processing the thought.”
You laugh softly at yourself.
“People often mistake that for not caring.”
“Or they think I'm lazy.”
“But you do care,” Xavier says.
You search for the right words.
“It's like my brain has twenty conversations happening at once. I want to pay attention to everything, but somehow I end up missing what's right in front of me.”
“How did you know you had ADHD?” Xavier asks.
“The signs were always there. My parents just thought I was an energetic child.”
You smile faintly.
“It wasn't until teachers kept complaining about my disruptive behavior that they finally took me to see a doctor.”
“They considered autism at first, but after several assessments, I was eventually diagnosed with ADHD as a young teenager.”
“When I first moved in, I read quite a lot about ADHD.” Xavier admits.
“I thought if I understood ADHD... I'd understand you.”
“I also read about treatment,” he continues.
“Medication. Therapy. Coaching.”
"I did try medication once," you admit.
"It did help me focus. But at the same time it also made me feel like... a zombie. Like I wasn't myself anymore.”
“So I stopped taking it.”
Silence settles between you as the broth continues to bubble.
Finally, Xavier reaches across the table, his little finger gently brushing against yours.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For trusting me enough to tell me.”
“If it means anything…”
“…I like you exactly the way you are.”
——————————————————————
If Xavier had to name the one thing he loved most about you, it would be your positivity.
You always seemed to wear a smile, radiating an effortless warmth. You had no problem poking fun at yourself or cracking jokes, even at the most inappropriate moments. And your laugh...
Your laugh alone was enough to wash away every ounce of Xavier's stress.
He had never once seen you in a bad mood.
Which is why the sight before him now stopped him in his tracks.
You sat slumped on a park bench, shoulders drooping, your usual spark nowhere to be found.
…
Earlier that evening, you'd gone into Linkon City to meet your best friend, Chelsea.
Xavier hadn't been thrilled about the idea of you spending a Saturday night at a bar in the middle of a busy city. Not because he wanted to stop you from going, but because he worried.
After much deliberation, he'd decided to swing by the bar you'd mentioned.
He only wanted to make sure you were safe, and selfishly, to ease his own mind.
…
“What happened to her?” Xavier asks, hurrying over.
“You must be Xavier,” Chelsea says, eyeing him. “The replacement roommate my bestie conveniently forgot to mention was a man.”
She gestures toward you.
“I'm Chelsea. She's fine, for the most part. She just drank a little too much. Alcohol tends to make her... droopy.”
She watches as Xavier crouches beside you, his concern obvious.
….
Ever since Chelsea moved out, she'd been buried under work. The two of you still texted and called whenever possible, but finding time to meet in person had become difficult.
“So good to see you, girl!” she'd greeted you with a hug the moment you stepped into the bar. “Sorry, work's been insane.”
Barely a minute later, she'd leaned across the table.
“So... how's the roommate situation going?”
Without a word, you'd shoved your phone into her face.
Displayed proudly on the screen was a picture of Xavier.
“His name's Xavier. He's a high school teacher.” Your grin widened. “Isn't he cute? He's handsome, soft-spoken, polite, patient... funny...”
Chelsea looked at you.
Then back at the phone.
“Your roommate... is a guy?!”
You blinked innocently.
“Yeah. Didn't I tell you?”
Chelsea rubbed both hands over her face.
After taking a moment to recover, she glanced up to find you smiling dreamily at the photo.
“Don't tell me you have a crush on him.”
You frowned in confusion.
“Oh, don't even try denying it.” Chelsea pointed at your face. “You've practically got hearts in your eyes.”
...
Watching Xavier now, she couldn't help smiling.
It looked like the feeling was mutual.
“Thanks for coming,” she says, standing. “I'll leave her in your capable hands.”
With one knowing smile, she waves goodbye.
…
Xavier unlocks the apartment door while supporting most of your weight against him.
He'd carried you all the way home.
“Let's get you cleaned up and into bed,” he murmurs.
He settles you onto the bathroom floor before soaking a washcloth beneath warm water.
With gentle movements, he wipes your face.
You blink up at him, your expression dazed.
“Do you think you can brush your teeth?”
You nod.
He helps you onto your unsteady feet.
Once you're brushing your teeth, he quietly slips away, returning with a pair of pajamas.
You promptly drop them onto the floor.
Instead, your fingers curl around the hem of his jumper.
“Off,” you mumble.
Xavier blinks.
Slowly, he pulls the jumper over his head.
The moment it's free, you snatch it from his hands, burying your face in the soft fabric.
“I want to smell like you.”
“I'll... leave you to get changed.”
He closes the bathroom door behind him.
When you emerge wearing his jumper, Xavier's heart skips a beat.
Without a word, he leads you to your bedroom, tucks you beneath the blankets, bids you goodnight, and retreats to his own room.
Only a few minutes pass before he feels the mattress dip.
His eyes flutter open.
There you are.
Silently climbing into his bed.
He doesn't stop you.
The moment you curl against his chest, he instinctively wraps both arms around you, holding you close.
You gaze up at him through sleepy, half-lidded eyes.
Slowly, you lean in.
He meets you halfway.
The kiss is soft.
Gentle.
Unhurried.
——————————————————————
The instant your eyes flutter open the next morning, still tucked safely in Xavier's arms, the memories of the previous night come rushing back.
Your eyes widen in horror.
You carefully slip out of his embrace, climb out of bed, and practically flee the room.
…
Xavier blinks the sleep from his eyes before noticing the empty space beside him.
Rising from the bed, he steps out of his room to see you pacing frantically across the living room.
The moment your eyes meet his, you freeze.
Then your hands begin flying through the air as words tumble out of your mouth so quickly they blur together into complete nonsense.
Xavier tries to interrupt, but you don't even seem to hear him.
Realizing words alone won't stop you, he gently cups your face in both hands.
His lips meet yours once more., effectively silencing you.
You go completely still for a heartbeat before melting into it, your eyes slowly fluttering shut as you kiss him back.
When he finally pulls away, only a few inches separate you.
“Since the whole school already thinks we're dating thanks to your little prank...”
“...why don't we make it a reality?”
If you liked this LaD fanfiction, feel free to check out my others : here
hi hey hello! i was feeling some kinda way and decided to write something with a reader struggling with adhd and blue helping them through it.
hope you all enjoy!!
Your alarm went off ten minutes ago. You need to get up. Get up. Get up. You need to get up. Tiktok can wait, you’re not even watching the videos before you scroll at this point. You have to get up. Come on, put your phone down and get up.
It’s been fifteen minutes, you’re running out of time to get ready, you need to get up. You have to take a shower, and dry your hair– No, it’s too late now you can skip the blow dry. That’ll save you time if you just get up.
Twenty minutes, you’re going to be late. You can probably skip the shower, you took one two days ago, you’re not at your worst yet. Nobody will say anything, especially if you put on some deodorant and body spray. But you still need to get up and do all that. You have to put on decent clothes.
Another ten videos slide past without you really processing them, and your body refuses to let you move. You need to get up, you have somewhere to be and you’re running out of time to get ready for it. Get up. Get up. Get up.
Your door opens, you can hear keys jangling even as you’re unable to stop scrolling on your phone without really seeing anything. The sigh that follows a second later makes you want to cry. You know, okay? You know you need to get up, you know you have somewhere to be, you know. Don’t sigh like that–
Suddenly there’s a gloved hand in your vision, fingers lightly grasping at the top of your phone to pull it from your grip. You don’t put up a fight because you have somewhere to be and it’s a relief to have one less obstacle in the way.
“COME ON, LOVE,” Sans says, setting your phone on the coffee table and holding his hand out in front of you in an offer of help you desperately need right now.
It still takes you a second to put your hand in his, but the feeling of the soft blue fabric of his gloves sends tingles up your arm and suddenly your brain unlocks you from your spot. You think you’d be able to stand up even without Sans’ help, but you don’t refuse it.
“WHAT’S THE FIRST THING YOU NEED TO DO?” Sans asks, and you consider smudging the truth so you won’t be late, but Sans knows you and you don’t think he’ll let you.
“Shower,” you finally say, clearing your throat when your voice comes out hoarse with unshed, frustrated tears.
Sans nods, leading you towards the stairs and you’re immensely grateful for him pulling you along. You know if you’d managed to get this far on your own the whole extra step of going up would be a battle all on its own. But with Sans leading you, it feels more like a step he’s doing that you’re just tagging along on.
He leaves you at the bathroom, going into your room to grab the clothes you’d left out on your bed so you wouldn’t get overwhelmed with choices.
“HOW MANY STEPS IS TAKING A SHOWER?” he asks, looking at you with soft eye lights as he holds your clothes in front of him. You can’t help but notice they’re folded. They weren’t before, you didn’t have the energy to fold them and a few wrinkles have never bothered you. You can’t help but feel grateful that Sans was nice enough to fold them for you.
You consider his question, staring blankly until your mind sluggishly starts working to give you the details of what had been overwhelming you.
You have to get the water to the right temperature, and then you have to get undressed, and make sure you don’t forget to move your towel so it’s close enough to grab when you get out. And–
You’re already overwhelmed, and you’ve only thought three steps into the process. Sans sees the look on your face, and he nods.
“WILL SKIPPING THE SHOWER UPSET YOU LATER?” he asks, and that’s a much easier question for you to answer.
“No, not if it’s just us,” you say, because you trust Sans not to judge you for how much you struggle getting clean. And he already knows anyway, so it’s not like it’ll be a surprise if it comes up again.
“THEN YOU CAN JUST GET CHANGED, I’LL WAIT FOR YOU DOWNSTAIRS, OKAY? HAVE YOU EATEN YET?”
You feel your throat grow tight with guilt when you shake your head. You know he loves to cook and feed you, but you never stop feeling guilty that he has to do it for you so often because you forget to eat before it’s too late.
“I’LL MAKE SOMETHING SIMPLE THEN!” he says, giving you an excited grin that makes the guilt ebb just a bit. If he wants to feed you, who are you to deny that little happiness for him?
You nod, and Sans pulls you down just enough to push his teeth against your cheek in a skeletal kiss that has your heart fluttering.
God, you’re so glad you have this skeleton as a boyfriend, he’s so sweet and understanding.
There are so many different types of adhd and I didn’t want to disrespect anyone with how I wrote it so I placed in my own adhd. This is ligit how I act every day and I apologize if it’s not what you were looking for.
Also I saw you said s/o instead of boyfriend or girlfriend so I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible. I usually only write for female readers so I will try my best with this.
I really hope you like it! Here are some people that inspire me! @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts
There are 1140 words to read below the line!!
————————————
Weeks ago you were sitting on the couch in the common room with Tokoyami when you got this sudden urge, his feathers looked so soft. You slowly reached out and touched your boyfriend’s face as he flinched and froze up. You petted his black feathers as he coo’ed for the first time. He cuddled into you, his head in your lap as you pet around his cheeks and under his chin. You continued the head pats for a while, heard some chirps you’ve never heard from him, and you smiled brightly at his cute sounds. After that first day it became an unspoken rule that after a long day, Tokoyami would lay in your lap and you would both relieve stress through it.
When you were with your classmates you were loud and fast talking, speaking your mind quickly to get to the point before anyone shushes you. Although most times you were shushed by everyone, except for Tokoyami and Kaminari, that’s why they were your closest friends.
You stared out the window of Aizawa’s class and watched some birds fly outside, reminding you of your boyfriend. You looked around a bit at the room of bored teens and an equally bored teacher and decided that you should listen.
After three minutes of listening you started doodling little eyes and flowers into your notes, little faces came to life on the page as you sketched their tiny little noses, and you imagined the little car you drew to drive off the page and down the side of the desk and then wondered if it would crawl up the desk next to you or go under the seat.
Your eyes followed the path you thought best for the small car until it “rolled” up the ceiling and “fell” on your desk. You then decided you wanted to speed run the whole path again and your eyes darted around the room to match what path you made earlier, restarting whenever you got it too wrong.
You were pulled out of your “car racing” when your boyfriend patted your shoulder.
“Yeah?” You turned to him, he sighed when he looked at your notes covered in drawings.
“Schools done for the day, it’s time to go to the dorms.” He gently grabbed your bag and you got up excitedly.
“Can we make ramen!?” You asked him excitedly, and you could’ve sworn his beak shifted in a small smile.
“Okay.”
You talked about the most random things as you passed the school buildings on the way to your rooms. Sometimes Tokoyami had to pull back the conversation to bring you to a conversation he was still interested in by a few phrases,
“Can we go back to that one thing, I’m still thinking on the topic”
“Oh, wait, we were talking about the other thing. Can we go back to that I’m still confused.”
He always made sure you knew he was still interested and if you wished to skip over a subject, all you had to do was say the word and he wouldn’t bring it up again.
You became a little quieter when you reached his room and opened the door for your birdbrain.
You looked at his black nails and watched how the color was chipped in some places.
“We need to paint them again,” you said as you shut the door.
“Paint, what?”
“Oh, your nails. They’re getting all chippy again.” You crawled into his lap when he jumped unceremoniously onto the bed. He carded one hand through your hair and you held the other, plucking off little pieces of each nail until the whole hand was clear of the black polish.
When you dropped his hand another came in its place and you started on that one. Since his hand would be at an odd angle if he played with your hair this time, he picked up his poetry book and read some aloud. He told you which ones he wrote before he read them and at the end of each one you dropped his hand and clapped lightly to the wonderful words.
When you finished re-painting each nail, he wrapped up the poem he was reading and gently put the book back on the side table. The room was rather bright, and considering brightness keeps dark shadow in line, you didn’t bat an eye the first time you came in his room. White walls some pastel stuff and of course, a lot of black.
You sat up excitedly and patted your lap, he turned suddenly and flopped down onto your thighs. “Where’s dark shadow? I’ve barely seen them today.”
“They usually calm down when you’re around so I’m not sure where they are.” That was his last full sentence before he melted into a chirping mess. He coo’ed and shrilled gently and it made your heart soar.
While one hand pet your boyfriend you took a picture of him to send to Kaminari who would most likely laugh. You hugged Tokoyami when he said it was time for bed and kissed his beak which in return, nuzzled your face gently.
You slept soundly that night. Something watching you protectively from the shadows.
When you woke in the morning, a package was on your desk, brown paper packaging tied with white string, in the bow of the string was a dried rose. You knew it was from your lovely boyfriend before you had to open it, he always gave you dried roses to keep or do as you please with it. You smiled and untied the ribbon, the box opened suddenly to reveal pictures on every wall of the box. One of you and him at the beach, he looked very bashful in his swim-trunks and sunburned shoulders, one of you both cuddled on the couch with the fireplace, that was taken at his parents house it must’ve been taken by his mom because his dad was in the background and you and Tokoyami were dead asleep. There were countless others that made your face break into a smile, Tokoyami was a hopeless romantic.
“Do you like it?” You jumped a bit when Dark Shadow’s voice spooked you.
“Yes I do. Where were you yesterday?” You asked incredulously.
“I was making this for Tokoyami. It took forever by the way.” You smiled at your boyfriend’s quirk.
“Were you watching me last night? I felt weird.” They nodded quickly.
“We want to keep you safe.”
“That’s fine, just tell me next time you’re going to do something like that.”
A knock on your door had you turning your head, and you watched as Dark Shadow slunk under it.
“Hi!” You hugged your boyfriend when the door opened.
“Hello, love. Did you like the gift we made?” You pulled Tokoyami onto your bed and hugged him excitedly.
Still thinking about Soap and his spouse both having ADHD and now that the team knows about them, they come to visit.
Part 1
It was utter chaos and somehow everything still worked out. They rarely talked about the times they spent apart when on leave, usually summarised as "spent time with family and friends and it was nice". Keeping them separate from work, as if that would keep them safe.
But since Johnny was not getting married without his team, they might as well meet his future wife in the flesh.
The cottage was surprisingly modern, solar panels, greenhouse, chicken coop and everything. Although it was very obviously still a work in progress, it had a welcoming vibe. Might be the fact they arrived late in the evening and you were standing in the doorway, warm light illuminating your soft features.
Johnny didn't even wait for the others, he immediately launched himself at you, engulfing you in a tight hug, as if you were a part of him, he had been missing for too long.
The other three noticed that you apparently felt the same, the way you borrowed your nose in his hair, clinging to him, trusting he would hold you. Both of you so lost in your reunion, that it took a cough from Price to acknowledge the others.
"Oh, sorry, let me down, Johnny.." you were laughing as he did, pressing kisses on the top of your head, still one arm wrapped around you. As if he couldn't stand to be separated from any longer.
"Hi, welcome to our humble farm. Can I hug you?"
Kyle immediately opened his arms, if Soap loved you, you were part of their small special family as well, in his book. And you were a good hugger. Good to hold, all soft and warm, smelling like hay and flowers.
Price was next, giving you a bear hug. "Nice to meet you, Johnny didn't stop talking about you, once he started." He likes the way you laugh at that, no trace of anger, as if it was what you expected anyways. Yes, Johnny was lucky to have you, he could see how the two of you fit.
Simon had stayed a bit behind, watching you, but also Johnny. How reluctant he had let you go, how relieved he was that Kyle and Price seemed to like you. He met Johnny's eyes, noting the shadow that passed for a moment, and he nodded. They would talk later.
He turned to you, bowing down to hug you. Your smell was oddly familiar, he just realised that he associated it with Johnny, when he came back from leave, fading more and more over time. What surprised him was your voice, low enough only for him to hear "You smell like him. Or does he smell like you?"
Simon searched in your eyes for confusion, realisation or hurt, but there was just... Warmth and understanding. As if you knew.
The moment passed and you ushered them inside, giving a quick tour to the house. "Living room, kitchen, guestrooms and the small bathroom are on the ground level, master bedroom, master bathroom and my office are upstairs, if the door is open, you may enter, if it is closed please don't. We don't bother with locking rooms. Dinner is almost ready, you can settle in and everything and I'll give you the grand tour tomorrow. Hope you don't mind the sound of chickens, they can be very loud. Let me know if you need anything." They nodded and you disappeared in the kitchen, leaving Johnny to take care of things.
It was a nice evening. Food was good and plenty, conversation flowed, somehow you just fit. At some point Ghost and Price moved outside to have a smoke.
"Have you noticed?" Price asked, not looking at the other man.
"What exactly? That she seems to know everything about us? That this is the perfect home for all of us? That they move in fucking sync? That she is a part of him we just never put a name to?" So Ghost had noticed.
They were prepared for some awkward conversations and having to tread carefully around classified details, to be asked way too personal questions, but none of that. You didn't poke at topics that could be uncomfortable, you went with the flow, happy to answer all their questions about the farm, shared stories of Johnny when he was home and other than nearly constantly touching Johnny you didn't show any claims on him, none of the jealousy some military spouses showed.
What baffled them was the way the two of you moved together. Like a team, like a unit... Like the 141 would move on a mission. Aware of each other's presence, routines you probably didn't even notice.
Price huffed amused. "Don't know if we should recruit her or check her background in case this is a very extensive honey trap" It was too smooth, too perfect. They didn't get that much happiness, usually.
"Already checked, found nothing. Local police once caught her with some weed. Slap on the wrist, nothing more. Never shared anything close to compromising on socials. Only her own projects. She's perfect. For Johnny."
He would not go further. Johnny deserved this. So he would let it rest unless you gave him a reason.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
I have plans with this one. Hope you like a little bit of cozy vibes.
It takes just a few days for them to fall into a routine. Of course, they are a team and everything, but it is also easy to integrate you into their group and to get used to the rhythm of this place.
Ghost befriends the goats. Nobody saw that one coming, but somehow it fits. Since he is usually the first one up, he slips out of the house and checks on the goats first. Feeds them before they are restless enough to try to escape their barn. He also feeds the chicken, since he is already up, and lets them out to the garden.
And the goats accept him as an equal. Or something like it. He quickly found a spot where he would sit down, light a cigarette, and a goat would appear to get head scratches. And somehow it is now 'Ghost's Spot'. He notices how this place seems to fit around him. As if there had been empty spaces in his shape, that he could fill out.
Gaz is up next, starting the kitchen (coffee, tea and setting the table) then he makes food (toast, eggs, pancakes maybe) which is enough to summon a sleepy Price who wordlessly accepts a steamy mug from Gaz, sinks onto a chair and just watches him work. And maybe it all feels so familiar, so safe and domestic, that he presses a quick kiss to Gaz' shoulder, grabbing his hip for a moment, imagining having this forever. And maybe Gaz waits for this every day, leaning back into the strong warmth of his Captain, relaxing because he knows he can.
Soap of course sleeps as long as his military conditioning allows, waking up in a messy embrace, since you cling to him like an octopus, but you are also used to sleeping alone most of the time, so you move around in your sleep, dragging Soap with you.
And he loves to take his time, watching you. Wondering how he got so lucky to find someone who not only accepts him as he is, makes him want to do better and is willing to accept his team as a part of his life. Of their life.
The first time you suggested to treat the farm as a safe house, it was half a joke. But the idea was there. You had made a quick sketch, how the one big guest room could be made into two separate bedrooms, speculating who would like what, he added security details, and it became a mind game. Build the perfect safe house. The perfect safe space. For all of them. Where they could unwind, breathe, remember to be human. To heal.
He once asked you why you were so open to this. He knows that most military spouses struggle with sharing their partner with their work and that leads to a lot of fighting and divorces. So you had sat down and looked him straight in the eyes.
"I have been thinking about this, to be honest. Maybe after the third time your mission took longer than expected, and I had no way of knowing if you would come back. And I talked to some people, you know, other SAS spouses and all that. Thing is, I know you. You would do what you think is the right thing. If you stayed here with me, you would always think of them, get restless, probably resent me for making you choose. Pretending to be fine. We would fight. We would break up. Or you would choose them and I don't know what I would do, but it wouldn't be pretty or civilized."
At that point Johnny had sobbed, the thought alone so stressful he had to grab you and pull you close. "You are not breaking up with me, please don't say tha'" he had whispered into your hair like a payer.
And you had just hugged him as tight as you could. "I won't. I had so much time to think about this. Even talked to a therapist. So, the idea is already there. You talk about them so much, I really want to meet them. I know we were keeping this our secret little bubble of happiness and all, but... They are a part of you. And I... I think I really want that part of you as well. Not in a... you know, not necessarily like a polycule. I mean, you and Simon, that's yours and I will not make it weird. But when you asked me to be yours, I told you, you get all of me. The good, the bad, the deranged. And you promised the same. And that we would find our way, no matter what. So I think that is part of it."
This time you were the insecure one. Loving Johnny was one thing. Telling him you would be potentially open to also welcome his teammates into their home and relationship was something else.
They had talked a lot about it. But you both knew, that you already made the decision and had started to make changes. The only ones who didn't know were the others.
Of course Simon is the first to get an idea. Since your workspace is in the barn, he decides to get some intel. It’s not like he doesn't trust you. Johnny trusts you, so you have his trust by proxy or something, but he needs to get to know you for himself. Find his own information. Untainted by emotion. So far he knows you have been in Johnny's life since childhood, probably because you two had similar struggles with ADHD. Supporting each other. Thinking about it, probably most stories about "that girl he knew back then" are about you. Maybe Johnny doesn't so much have a type than having a long lasting relationship with the same girl. Interesting.
Your barn is full of stuff, tools for the farm, materials, workspace for fixing tools. But also a small lab that has evidence of explosives, several big boards with notes and pictures and a surprisingly clean area that almost looks like a commando centre. He can imagine you sitting behind the screens, squinting at data. A sliver of a memory pops up, a mission where Johnny had called a contact for background information on a target... was that you? He thought his voice was softer, guessed he had a thing with his source. Might have been true.
But what draws his attention is a huge mood board kind of thing, big letters on top: Haven.
It is full of ideas for the farm. Some things already built, like the solar panels and main layout for the garden and the animals. But there are also plans for crops, ideas how to produce less waste, use plants that support each other, a list of topics that need more research. And profiles of each team member. Strictly personal information about them. Interests, hobbys, needs. The mattress for Price. The bigger bed for himself. The books and blankets for Gaz. Favourite tea and foods. In a different context this would be disturbing, clearly stalking behaviour and a security risk. It still was a risk, but it was... different. A little beep from one of the desks draws his attention to the screens. A message on one of them, simply stating a "Good Morning. Breakfast in 10. Please close the doors properly, the goats..."
He should feel guilty for snooping, but he doesn't. But he feels... Something similar to pride. You know your tech. He wonders what would happen if he was a real threat. Another beep.
"We should talk, soon"
He nods. Not a big talker but better to clarify where they stand than sitting on questions.
You let out a relieved breath. Snuggling closer into Johnny's chest, breathing in his musk. You missed him so much, always will miss him when he is away. The time you spend together is never enough, both of you know that. But hopefully you will have more of him, if this dream of yours works out.
"Big thinkin already?"
You hum a confirmation. "Simon found the mood board. We will have The Talk soon. Is.. is it okay if I talk to him first, alone? Let us get a feeling how we.." you blush, because ever since Johnny had confessed his feelings (and actions) regarding Simon, you had imagined what it could be like to share your man with Simon.. or to be shared between them. And also because Johnny had started to grope your ass and kiss your neck. "Hmm... told Simon breakfast is in 10. Don't start what you can't finish."
With a disappointed sigh Johnny lets go of you, but only to look at you. "But I'll stay close. Just in case you get into a fight. Or something else." It's his time to blush now, hunger in his eyes. "Need to know if you look as perfect in his arms as I imagine. Need to hear you say his name the way you say mine when I.."
"Johnny! Stop!" You plea, if he continues you will not be eating breakfast any time soon.
Your stupidly handsome spouse only chuckles but let's you get up. "Just communicating my needs, luv"
"Needs or wants? Because if that is a need, then I need to see what his hands look like on your body. Maybe he can show me how he managed to get these bite marks so perfectly symmetrical on your thighs"
"Ye can't do that to me and just leave!" is the last thing you hear when you slip out of the room, heading downstairs. It smells like tea and waffles and you could get used to that. In your head you already think about a plan to make sure the chores are distributed fair between all of you, but maybe you should first make sure you are all on the same page. you aren so in your head, you don't even register that you placed a good morning kiss on Prices cheek when you walk past him. You freeze, heat in your face, mortified as you turn back around to see Price staring at you.
Price, who is sitting next to Gaz, one arm comfortably around the other man's waist. Hand snuck under his shirt.
"Shit. I didn't think. I just. Sorry, no impulse control?" You manage to say. You could also pretend to have confused him with Johnny. But honesty was the house rule.
"My brain, it... You might have noticed that Johnny and I have a similar way of... Skipping steps? Please stop me anytime you like, just, I imagined how it would be to have you here and then I thought 'what if they stay' and I never quite got monogamy, so if you are exclusive, that is fine, I can adjust.. Oh no, word vomit, so sorry, please forget that I might have fantasised a bit how this could work and remember when Johnny forgot to tell you about me? Basically same thing, it's a thing, like what is reality anyways. That's a whole different thing, but basically sometimes what we think is what we do, so I think it would be so nice to have this, you know, all of us. If you would like... This should have been a proper conversation, I ruined it. Oh no, is it me, do you even like women? I guess I never asked because it doesn't matter to me much, I need a connection first and.."
You stopped when a large hand grabbed your jaw, turned your face towards Simon, who had appeared next to you, and unfamiliar lips pressed down on yours. Short circuiting your brain enough to stop rambling.
"Thought so. Works like a charm on Johnny as well." Simon rumbled with a grin. He moves you to a chair, placing your tea in front of you.
"Guess we'll have that talk sooner than later, dove"
-----
So much talking! There will be more! More talking, more kissing, more everything.
Love to hear what you think. Wishes and suggestions are welcome.
Previous parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
CW: talking, feelings, kissing, still sfw, but there is some tension building...
Author Note: I needed this, so here is some fluff and kisses and fun.
When you wake up, you feel rested yet tired, emotionally drained. The sunlight is starting to turn golden already, so you must have slept in Johnny's arms for a few hours. On any other day, you would just stay in bed for the rest of the afternoon, but you have guests. You hear them downstairs, talking. Should you go downstairs or wait until someone is looking for you? Damn, you hate being unsure, not exactly knowing how to behave around others. You just sigh and drag the soft blanket over your head, hiding from the world a little longer.
You must have dozed off again because you wake up from a polite knock and then the tentative creak of the door. When you open your eyes you see Price, carrying a mug and a plate. He looks at you with a soft smile and kind eyes.
"Hello sweetheart, do you feel better? Thought you might like a hot chocolate and a snack."
Hmm, you do, you really do. And you actually don't mind John Price sitting down on the bed and handing you the mug.
"Careful, it's hot"
You just hum, blow over the hot chocolate and take a sip, sweet and spicy... "Somebody put cardamom in this... I like it" you smile up to Price, he has something to say, you are sure.
"Kyle will love to hear that. I think he is taking over your kitchen." There is softness in his voice, maybe even love. Difficult to say with these men who see the wort of humanity and don't dare to get attached to anything or anyone.
"He can have it. If it makes him happy, he has my blessing. I tend to forget that I have a real kitchen, it's worse when Johnny is away. But you want to talk about Simon... Ghost… right?"
Price nods and he actually takes your hand. Warm, big, similar to Johnny's but rougher. "I am not talking for him, he fucked up and he will have to face it himself, but I know him. He is not used to a warm welcome, he doesn't trust easily and he thinks he needs to test people." His thumb caresses the back of your hand and you smile. You know, you want to forgive Simon, but you also need to know you can trust him.
"Thank you, John. You take good care of your boys. And since we are talking... Can I ask you…"
Price nods, of course, you were curious, he had expected nothing else.
"You and Kyle... I know the rules in the military are different and only because something is technically allowed, it doesn't mean it's accepted, so... What are the rules for your relationship? If... If you are comfortable talking about it." You feel a bit hesitant, don't want to push too far again.
"Don't worry, love, I'm used to being questioned... But I don't have clear answers. Think we are still figuring out what we are comfortable with. Showing affection in public is not something I am used to, but I admit that I like being able to relax and just be with him. The team is close, we have all helped each other out in different ways and I don't think an exclusive relationship would work for any of us. At least if it excludes the team. But you know that already. Johnny is really lucky to have found a clever girl like you."
You know you are blushing and you feel that sweet rush. He might as well have called you a good girl.
"I guess... we will all have to find out how we fit together." Fuck, do you sound breathless? Just because of a little praise from a hot, burly man who is your spouse's superior. And John just looks at you with a glint in his eyes, still holding your hand.
"Oh, I can see how we fit, love. Should fit pretty well, a good girl like you. Don't get me wrong, I don't think you need any of us for a happy life with Soap, but it would be nice to have another grown up man here, don't you think? Someone to take over, when you want to relax for a moment. Someone to take care of your needs in ways Johnny doesn't even think of..." He still looks at you, his fingers wandering to your wrist, feeling your pulse. And you are definitely a little bit breathless now, heat pooling on your stomach.
And then his other hand is holding your face, his thumb softly brushing your lips. You can't hold in that sigh that could turn into a moan any moment.
"Let me show you..."
You barely nod, but it's all he needs to lean closer and place a soft kiss onto your lips, then another and then you grab his shirt and pull him closer as you sink back into your pillow. "Please show me..." You don't even care how needy it sounds.
Price is a man with patience. He doesn't rush, he takes his time getting to know you, learning how you like to be kissed, to be held. He doesn't go further than squeezing your hip to keep you from wriggling. His body practically trapping you beneath him, as he works his way from your lips to your neck, biting into your flesh. "Aren't you just perfect... a whole damn meal, I could eat you right up..."
Gosh, you wish he would just do that, you can feel he is restraining himself and that is so fucking hot. The self control this man has makes you feel oddly safe, protected, while his whole focus is on you. And it turns you on and frustrates you at the same time, the way he holds you down, preventing you from grinding against him.
"Not today, sweetheart. Not before things between you and Simon are sorted."
Cheers to your brain for immediately proving a ridiculous thought.
"Are you... Are you just cock blocking yourself because Simon is a traumatized idiot?" You can't stop yourself from laughing. You can't even be mad, because that is so sweet and loyal. "Damn, you really are a package deal. I should have known, the moment Johnny told me about the team and how you work together. Makes me wish I had met all of you sooner..." When you look up to Price you see nothing but softness and pride. Yes, he is the Captain of this team, he will take care of them in any way he can. And he won't relax fully until he knows his men are relaxing as well. You just have to kiss him again, just because your heart is so full. "Thank you, papa bear, thank you for keeping them as safe and sound as possible."
"Papa bear, hm?" You earn an arched brow, but no objection. "That my call sign for you?"
"Maybe?" You have to admit it's been in your head for some time. "But only, because Johnny describes you like that."
You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for taking care of me as well. I guess I should get up and find Simon. Can't have him ruin my dreams, just because he is self sabotaging."
Because as long as they don't tell you, they don't want this, you are still going to try to make this work. Because you already feel like they are part of your life, and you don't let go that easy.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Soooo, first one down, two to go. Don't know if I center the next around Kyle or if I dive into the angst again, but yeah... Let me know what you think?
