#woman earlier this week just got a new puppy a couple months ago

[l3irdl3rain]

there is literally nothing worse about my job than being alone in a room with a client while they start asking me if they should euthanize their pet. it doesn't happen very often, but when it does I always wish I could just disappear into thin air

#visible fear on my face while i tell them “oh gosh. that is such a personal decision. i really think you should talk to the doctor about it” #also btw usually the ppl who do this have a pet that does NOT need to be euthanized #woman earlier this week just got a new puppy a couple months ago #and has been in NUMEROUS times with her old dog and very mild issues and she jumps straight to euthanasia #my post

[heartateasee]

“Switch”

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: dom/sub play, pegging, unprotected sex, anal play (m & f receiving), brief mommy kink, masturbation (m), brief use of “yellow” (stoplight system), squirting, some degradation, and a size kink if you look closely…

Plot: You’ve been out of town, and now that you’re back, you keep your promise of making it up to Harry once you were home.

•••

He looks so fucked already on all fours on the top of your bed. He’s still fully clothed, staring at the headboard just like you had asked him to while you finished off your glass of wine downstairs.

You had previously been out to dinner with your friends, and Harry could hardly sit still due to the promise you had made him earlier this week. You had been out of town, doing work in New York for business, and you had just gotten home this morning. Harry had made it clear that he missed you the whole week you had been gone, but you assured him over FaceTime that you would make it worthwhile when you got back.

That night he didn’t ask about what you had meant, but a couple nights later, you could tell he was a bit more whiny and needy than usual.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” you cooed, sitting in the bathtub of your luxurious hotel room, bubbles covering you to where he could only see the swells of your breasts.

“The other day, when you promised me that you’d make it up to me when you got home, what did you mean?”

You couldn’t help the smile that curled onto your lips at the neediness in his tone, and you just knew it was all he had been thinking about.

Sitting up, the water sloshed slightly, and for the first time tonight, you were finally giving him a view of your full breasts. Harry’s lips parted, as his eyes honed in on them, and you could’ve sworn you heard him let out a small whimper.

“You wanna know?”

Harry nodded eagerly, sitting up on the bed a bit more - bringing the phone closer to his face as if he had never actually seen your tits before.

“I figured we could use that little toy you picked up a few months ago, but you’ve got to make sure you’re prepped for me, okay? That’s going to be up to you,” you told him, and you could immediately see the flush rising in his cheeks.

“Yeah, okay, I can do that,” he agreed. “I promise I’ll make sure I’m ready.”

“Good boy,” you complimented him, and you tilted your head to the side as you ran your hands over your breasts - tweaking softly at your nipples. “Now I know you’re probably aching just thinking about this. Go ahead and get yourself off while I watch.”

That had been one of the more eventful FaceTimes you had in your week away. You and Harry were extremely sexual human beings, and neither of you were ashamed of it. If anything, you were both grateful that you found the other to share this connection with. You had never had a lover like Harry, and he especially had never had a lover like you. No woman was ever willing to dominate him in the bedroom before. Regardless of him being the one to dominate you most of the time, there were times where Harry was begging for you to dominate him instead. You loved the dynamic you had.

Previous girlfriends wouldn’t even have brought up the possibility of fucking him, but here you were, willing and ready. You’re almost positive that you’re just as eager as him.

The thing was, you just couldn’t help but to tease him a bit more when you arrived home after dinner. He was following you around the house like a lost puppy, and there was a permanent pout on his heart shaped lips as he watched you open a bottle of wine in the kitchen.

“I just want one glass, baby,” you told him, grabbing two of them from the cabinet. “Will you have one with me?”

Harry swallowed harshly, but he nodded, and you poured each of you a glass before walking into the living room. You sat down on the couch together, and as you sipped your wine, Harry set his down on the coffee table to place your legs in his lap. He undid the clasps on the straps of your heels one by one until he pulled them off your feet - dropping them to the floor. One of his large hands continued to run over one of your calves as he picked his wine back up, taking hefty sips.

“Thank you,” the arch of your foot ran up and down the part of his thigh your other leg wasn’t occupying. “I’m happy to be home with you. I missed you so much, bunny.”

You knew when he was like this that he needed the pet name that you used for him - one reserved only for when he was submissive like this. Harry looked over to you, and you could see that the pupils of his moss colored eyes were already so dilated.

“Did you do what I asked?”

He nodded, his hand now gripping softly to your calf. “Yes, I did.”

“Such a good boy, Harry,” your voice was smooth, and it caused him to close his eyes and take in a deep breath. “How about you finish your glass of wine, and wait for me on the bed, hm? Like you have before when we’ve been practicing for this?”

Harry didn’t hesitate. He quickly gulped down the rest of his wine, and he moved your legs off his lap. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness as went into the kitchen to wash his glass out.

“I won’t be long, promise.”

You watched as Harry went up the stairs, and the anticipation swirled in your stomach. It was hard not to be nervous. It isn’t the first time you and Harry were experimenting in this type of play, but this was the first time you would actually be penetrating him with anything other than your fingers. Although you were sure you weren’t going to hurt him, that was still a fear of yours that you were battling against.

It was a relief when Harry had confirmed that he prepped himself, and you knew that he played with himself there quite often while you were away. You’re sure he did it the night you announced that this is what you’d be treating him to this once you got home. You remember the first time you walked in on him doing it. You had gotten off of work earlier, and it was his day off.

You walked into the bedroom to surprise him, but really you were the one who ended up being surprised. With one hand wrapped around his dripping cock, the other was between his legs - two of his thick fingers inside, and he was thrusting them in and out fluidly. He hadn’t noticed you, not in the slightest, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his movements.

It wasn’t until you heard a gasp, and noticed his hands had stopped, that you looked to his face. There was a sheen of sweat along his hairline, his hair pulled back into a bun, and his lips were parted.

“I-I’m not…it’s not-” he had stammered over his words, and that caused your eyebrows to narrow.

Shrugging off your jacket after letting your purse fall off your shoulder, you toed yourself out of your shoes and climbed onto the bed between his bent legs. “Baby, you don’t need to be ashamed,” you told him honestly, wrapping your hand around his wrist to pull his fingers from himself. “I could’ve been doing this for you. I didn’t know this is what you wanted. I’m so sorry.”

Harry let out a noise of discontent when his fingers slipped out, and you shushed him softly. “It’s okay, bunny,” it was the first time you had ever used the name before. “I’m going to make it all better, if you’ll let me.”

After giving you permission, he told you that you gave him the best orgasm of his life that afternoon after you pulled your mouth off his pink tip, and removed your fingers from him. You had managed to work him up to three before he finally came, and you’re not sure if you ever heard him make such noises of pleasure before. That’s when the switch between the two of you really started.

Anytime you both would delve into anal play again, you had a process. He’d wait for you, hands and knees on the bed - fully clothed with his hair tied back into a bun. He’d undress once you told him too, and then he’d right back on the bed like he was initially. You’d eat him out a little bit, get him a little soft, before sinking a finger in. You guys had still only ever worked up to three, and neither of you had talked about taking it any further until he came home with a new toy one evening.

A strap-on.

It didn’t shock you too much. He had experimented in wearing butt plugs when he knew what the night was going to entail, but you definitely doted on him that night - telling him just how proud you were that he took the next step and got this for the two of them.

You knew you were going to enjoy it just as much as he did. It had been a dream of yours to fuck Harry, and to see him unraveling underneath you. You wondered if seeing him come from this would be the first time you’d come without any sort of touch yourself - that’s how much you knew this was going to get you off.

Giving it about five more minutes, you decided that you had left him upstairs long enough, so you finished your glass of wine, and cleaned it up, before heading upstairs yourself. You opened the door to the bedroom, and you were met with Harry’s head hanging between his shoulders as he stared down at the comforter. He looked up slowly to meet your eyes, but he didn’t move his head as you sent him a soft smile.

You walked around to the foot of the bed, just taking a moment to admire the view in front of you for a bit before getting started.

“Okay, baby, come help me out of my dress, and then take off your clothes,” you instructed, and he was quick to move.

You felt his fingertips dancing over your skin before his lips were pressed to the junction where your shoulder met your neck. “Thank you,” he whispered softly as you felt him sliding down the zipper to your dress. The material soon met the floor, and you were there in one of the prettiest sets of lingerie you own.

You only wear it for special occasions, and you knew that tonight was going to be special.

You turned around to face him completely, and you watched as his eyes traveled over your body. Shaking his head, he let his hands capture your hips before leaning down to press kisses along your jawline. “My pretty baby,” his lips moved against your skin. “Always so good to me. Thank you.”

He thanked you constantly when he would get like this. It was so endearing, and sometimes you wanted to say to forget the sex and just cuddle up next to him in bed.

But not tonight.

“Clothes off, bunny,” you gasped as he sucked at the spot right underneath your ear. “And then get back on the bed while I get everything ready.”

You walked over to the bedside table on your side of the bed, looking back over your shoulder to watch Harry as he completely undressed - your eyes trailing over the rounds of his ass. He crawled back onto the bed as you grabbed the strap-on, as well as some lube, from the drawer.

“Next time we do this, I’ll let you put it on me, okay? But tonight, I just want you to focus on yourself, and enjoy it.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, and you knew that he was growing silent now because he was nervous. You slipped your legs into the toy, making sure it was secure on your hips, before kneeling down on the bed behind him.

“If you don’t want to do this tonight, let me know,” you whispered as you ran your hand over his bare back with your eyes trained on the back of his head. “You’re in control of that.”

“No, no, I want to,” Harry responded while shaking his head. “I know you’re going to take care of me.”

“That’s right. I’ll always take care of you.”

Your eyes dropped down to his ass, and you sat back on your heels to see the end of the light pink buttplug peeking between his cheeks. Biting down on your bottom lip, you brought the tip of your index finger up to tap at it, and Harry groaned - lurching forward just slightly.

“So sensitive,” you teased, leaning forward to press kisses on the back of each of his thighs. “You sure you’re ready for me?”

“Yes, I’m so ready…just please.”

“Okay, I’m going to take this out now,” you were going to walk him through every step so that even though he couldn’t see you, he knew what to expect. “And then I’ll play with you a little bit more just to be safe, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighed, and you knew it wasn’t out of frustration. You knew he was a bit overwhelmed by everything at the moment.

You complimented his compliance with a soft hum as you made sure to spread enough lube over the tip of your thumb and in your index finger - so it was easier to slip the plug out. “Here we go, bunny.”

Your digits slipped in and you heard Harry gasp, going to pull away but then keening into your touch as you pulled the plug out. You tossed it onto the floor next to the bed, knowing that you’d clean both that, and the strap on, later once you’re finished.

“How long did you keep that in, hm?”

“Put it in before work this morning,” he grunted as you slipped your index and middle finger inside, scissoring them slightly to keep him good and open.

“Over twelve hours? I’m so proud of you. Doing so well for me, baby.”

The more you moved your fingers in and out, you could tell that Harry was relaxing even more, and you took the time to spread lube over the attached dildo so that you would be able to slip right in once you took your digits out.

“Just relax,” your voice was soothing to him as you leaned down and pressed your lips against the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “I’m going to start pushing in now.”

Removing your fingers, you quickly replaced them with the tip of the dildo - pushing forward to have him sink down just past the ridge there. You stilled your hips as you heard a noise of pure ecstasy leave his lips, and you could see him leaning further into his elbows.

“Doing okay, bunny? Talk to me.”

It was clear that it was going to take some encouragement for him to be vocal during this, and you knew it was because he was going to be so focused on the pleasure, but you needed his responses to know that it was okay to go any further.

“I’m…oh god,” he moaned, leaning his forehead down onto the comforter. “Keep going. Please keep going, honey.”

“Okay, okay,” one of your hands rubbed over the middle of his back while the other cupped one of his hips. “I’m going to keep going, but you tell me if it gets uncomfortable, yeah?”

As you pushed in even further, you could feel a bit of resistance, but Harry didn’t object. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs at the sight of the toy disappearing inside of him, and you hadn’t even realized you were so wet already.

Once you were completely seated inside of him, you leaned down to press a kiss against his birthmark on his back. “It’s all in. How does it feel?”

It wasn’t until you heard him inhale deeply that you realized he had been holding his breath. It caused you to panic for a moment, and you dropped your other hand so it was cupping his hip as well as you stared at him with wide eyes. “Harry, do I need to pull out?”

“No, no, god, no,” he was a moaning mess beneath you as his hands stretched out - gripping to one of the pillows that was just slightly in front of his head. “Oh my god, baby, it feels so good. I feel so full. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

A few more seconds pass before you draw your hips back slightly before pushing forward again. “You okay if I start moving a little bit more?”

“I need you too, I’m so-”

“I know, bunny, I know. Mommy’s going to fuck you really good now, okay?”

“Please, mommy,” he whined as he brought one of his hands back to grip at your wrist. Tears pricked at his eyes from the mildly painful, but still delicious stretch he was experiencing. “Fuck me harder. You feel so good.”

“Yeah? I’m going to try and make it feel even better. You remember your safeword?” This wasn’t going any further until he confirmed that he remembered it, and that he could use it at any time.

Harry hummed, and you could see him nodding his head in front of you. “Yes, it’s renaissance.”

Renaissance. He had chosen that word because that was the section of the art museum you had originally met in during a gala that was taking place for your company. Harry had actually come as a date for a colleague at another company, but it was clear he was trying to escape how dreadful it was when you had found him by himself. You had come alone that night, and because of the sexual tension felt between the two of you from the moment you had laid eyes on each other, it ended with you tangled in his bedsheets at three in the morning. He had given you four orgasms that night, and you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to walk again from how shaky your legs were.

“That’s right,” you gripped his hips as you pulled your own back. “And you know that you can use that at any time and I completely stop, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, I know. Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome, and remember, just focus on yourself, and the pleasure tonight. I’m going to get pleasure just by knowing I’m pleasing you, so just be in the moment.”

Harry nodded again, and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you thrusted forward again - going faster than you had before. It caused a loud moan to leave his throat, and one of his hands moved from the pillows to slap against the headboard. Even though he had given you the green light to just keep going, you were taking your time a little bit, and that was out of your own nervousness.

You were still getting a hang of how it all felt. The pressure of the strap on against your pelvis once you were fully inside of him, the resistance you continued to feel in the moments when you brought your hips back and forth, and the quivering of Harry’s hips in your hands when you knew that you were nudging against his purest spot of pleasure.

After about a minute or so, you started to gain a proper rhythm with your thrusts, and it was every now and then that you would hear noises of absolute ecstasy leave Harry’s heart shaped lips. He had propped himself back up onto the palms of his hands against the comforter so that he could push himself into you to meet your movements.

“My hair,” he whimpered at one point, and you quirked up an eyebrow - waiting for him to finish his request. “P-please, please pull it, mommy.”

You didn’t make him ask again as you reached forward to remove the hair tie that he had holding his luscious curls in a bun. Wrapping the tie around your wrist, you let your fingers run through his hair for a while - nails gently scraping against his scalp as he got used to the feeling of your hand.

Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you gathered his hair into a makeshift ponytail, and you wrapped it securely around your hand before giving a small tug. Harry moaned, almost lifting himself up even more to lose himself to the feeling.

“You like that, bunny? You like a little bit of pain?”

“Yes, it’s ‘s good,” he slurred, completely drunk on the high building in his body. “Again, please.”

You tugged again, harder this time, and you felt Harry’s large hands reach behind to wrap around the back of your thighs. He was practically sitting in your lap at this point, so you sat back on your heels as you had earlier before this all started, and you began to fuck up him the hardest you had.

Peering around his side, you could see his cock was hard, and oozing precum. With one hand still in his hair, you ghosted the other hand over his hip to reach over and curl around his aching prick. He gasped at the sensation, fingertips digging into the sides of your thighs as he was now cupping the tops of them from the new position.

“You’re doing so good for me,” you praised him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade as you stroked him slowly. “And you look so hot. I knew that getting fucked would look good on you, but this is so much better than I pictured.”

Harry hummed in response, and you situated yourselves around after a few minutes to have him fully on his hands and knees again. Your hand had slipped away from his cock due to the angle, and your hips stuttered when you felt him pulling away from your thrusts.

“Harry,” you broke character again, only for the second time tonight. “Everything okay?”

Surging forward to let the dildo completely escape him, he was taking deep breaths as you watched his back heave up and down. It was slightly terrifying given he wasn’t answering you, and you started to feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Baby, I need you to talk to me right now. You’re scaring me,” you swallowed harshly as you unclipped the strap on from your body, tossing it onto the ground next to the discarded butt plug to take care of later.

You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you were also scared of what state he was in, and if it was bad, you didn’t want to make it worse. Your hands were beginning to shake as you slowly kneeled back onto the bed.

“Harry,” you tried again, but before you knew it, you felt his hands on your hips.

You yelped as he quickly flipped you over, your back meeting the mattress, and you stared up at him with wide eyes. His pupils were blown, making it hard to see any of the moss colored irises that you knew so well. Both of your chests were now rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath, and you felt Harry’s still dripping prick against your stomach.

“I think mommy has had enough playtime today, don’t you?” Harry’s voice was dark and filled with lust as he leaned forward, one of his hands coming up to rest against the column of your throat, but he didn’t apply any pressure. You felt his lips on your ear as his cheek was now pressed against yours. “I think it’s daddy’s turn now, hm?”

And just like that, you both could switch.

Gone was the confident woman who had just been fucking her boyfriend’s ass with a strap-on, and gone was the whimpery and whiney man that was begging to be fucked by said strap-on. You were now the squirming mess, bringing your hands up to rest against his hard chest as your knees locked up against his hips.

“Please, daddy,” your whimpering, and the anticipation of what was to come, reminded you of the pulsing that had grown between your thighs during your previous activity. You tried to lift your hips a bit to rut your covered pearl against his pelvic bone, but he tutted, moving back slightly so you couldn’t reach. “I was good. I gave you exactly what you wanted. Please.”

Harry hummed as his hands ran up the insides of your thighs, making you detach your legs from his hips, and he pushed them up - stretching you open until it was almost painful. His eyes were then glued to the wet spot that had formed on your satin panties, causing him to lick over his bottom lip. “Made a mess, did you?”

You nodded in response, bottom lip trembling under his heated gaze. It was torture at this point. You couldn’t think of anything but him having his fingers or his cock inside you, or having his mouth against your pulsing core.

“I did, I’m sorry,” your whole body was quivering, eager for some sort of contact from him.

“It’s okay, kitten,” he soothed you, leaning forward again, but still keeping you so spread, as he ghosted his fingertips along your hairline. “It’s a good mess, yeah? All that came from how you felt while pleasuring daddy?”

“Mhmm,” you whined, reaching out to grip to his biceps, but he was quick to snatch both of your wrists in one of his large hands - bringing them above your head to restrain you. Tears were now gathering in your waterline as you stared up at him, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so deprived. “Harry, please, I’m-”

The slip from ‘daddy’ to ‘Harry’ made his eyes soften just a bit, and he loosened his grip on your wrists. “Honey, what’s your color?”

With him, he used a safeword, but you preferred the color system. It was easier for you to remember when you started to slip away from him sometimes.

“Y-yellow,” you closed your eyes as you responded, feeling a bit foolish because you knew that ultimately, in the end, he would give you what you wanted. But right now, it just felt so overwhelming.

Harry quickly released your wrists, and his strong arms wrapped around you to pull you into his chest. You sniffled as you brought your legs back up around his hips, crossing your ankles against the small of his back to keep him as close to you as possible. Your fingers played with his long curls as he pressed kisses to the side of your neck and your jawline.

“Why yellow, baby?”

His voice was now so soft and tender, making you feel dreamy all over now that you had the pleasure of him talking to you like this.

You were so lucky.

“Feels like a lot,” you admitted, taking a minute to truly gather your thoughts before continuing to speak. “I was nervous about what I did for you, and I thought I had done a good job. It made me feel so good seeing you like that, Harry. It was unlike anything else I’ve experienced, but you switching it up made me realize how desperate I was to feel good too, and I just…felt like a lot of teasing. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed, and he pulled his face out of your neck, but you tried to keep yours hidden in his. “Look at me, honey.”

With flushed cheeks from both your sexual frustration, and your embarrassment, you pulled back to look at him completely. He sent you a sweet smile, his eyes dancing over your face. “You know I’m going to give you what you want, right? And you did so wonderful for me earlier, it was perfect. Just like teasing you a lot sometimes, ‘s all.”

“I know, I know. I’m-”

“Don’t you dare say sorry again,” Harry quipped at you, eyebrows now narrowing. “You should never apologize for making me aware of how you’re feeling, especially during these times. This is some of the most important communication we can have with each other, and we should be happy that we’re able to do it so easily. So, please, do not apologize. This is necessary.”

Relief washed over your body, and you nodded. “I’m okay now. I wanna keep going, please, daddy.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a smirk, and his hands traveled down to spread you open once again. You hissed at the slight burn in your pelvis, but you also welcomed it. You watched as Harry shimmed himself down your body before he was face to face with your throbbing cunt. “Need daddy to play with you a little bit?”

“Yes, yes,” you stayed as still as possible, knowing that if you squirmed he would start to take his time again, and you thought that you may actually combust if he did that to you another time. “Need you so bad.”

Leaning in, Harry pressed kisses to your satin covered clit, and you breathed out a sigh of relief as you melted into the mattress - eyes slipping shut. It was the smallest bit of stimulation, but even that was scratching that itch that had only been growing since your activities in the bedroom had started.

You gasped, eyes shooting back open as you propped yourself up onto your elbows, and you looked down at Harry when you felt a forceful tug of the waistband of your panties - pulling the material of them harder against your dripping cunt. Harry’s eyes were fixed on the sight of your lips so puffy, and desperate, underneath the tightened fabric. His bottom lip made its home between his teeth as he lifted his other hand, prodding the tip of his index finger against your aching bud.

“So swollen down here, kitten,” he said, tilting his wrist to flick his middle fingertip against your bud now, and you moaned - dropping back down onto the bed. “This all for me?”

“All of it for you, always,” you were full on panting, sweat beginning to sprout on your forehead. “Only ever for you.”

Harry hummed, pleased with your answer, and he pulled your panties from your body in one quick swoop. He made his way back up your torso, wrapping his hand around to your back as he unclasped the matching satin bra. He discarded it just as quickly as your underwear, and his hands immediately began to knead your supple breasts.

“I don’t think you need much playing,” Harry shook his head - pads of his thumbs grazing over your nipples. “I know it’s gonna stretch you a bit if I go in now, but you like that little bit of pain, don’t you?”

“Love it,” you confessed, arching your back further into his touch to have your breasts cradled even more in the palms of his hands. “It hurts so good.”

One of Harry’s hands left you, and you looked down to see that he was giving himself long strokes. You figured he had probably lost a little bit of his erection when you pleaded ‘yellow’, but now he had grown fully hard again.

You bit down on your lip as you felt him nudge his leaking tip against your entrance, and you gasped as he pushed in - only allowing that part of him to be what your walls pulsed down around.

“Oh, yes,” you moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow, nails digging into his shoulders from where your hands had found their home. “Aches a little, but it feels great, daddy. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kitten,” he kissed the corner of your lips, running the tip of his nose along your cheekbone. He allowed his tip to just slightly exit you, and then he pushed back in, doing this a couple of times before sinking into you completely in one fluid motion.

You screamed out in pleasure, and your hands made their home on his back as you dragged your nails down his skin. You knew that you were leaving marks, but he liked it. It reminded him for days of what you both had done, how you had made each other feel, and he reveled in it.

“So fucking tight,” he grunted, and you could feel his prick twitching inside of you. “Did you not touch yourself while you were away?”

“I would touch myself when we were talking to each other sometimes, when I knew you were touching yourself, but I didn’t allow myself to come. Only wanted to come around your cock, daddy.”

Harry’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at your words. “You’re such a good girl for me, hm? Feel so good, act so good. Daddy’s so lucky to have you, did you know that?”

Pouting softly at him, you felt him wrap his hand around the underside of one of your thighs, and he pushed it forward - scrunching your leg up against your chest. “I’m lucky to have you. ‘M so lucky. I’d be so lost without you.”

“You wanna know something?” Harry’s hips were stilled, not having moved back or forth since getting fully seated inside of you. You nodded, losing a bit of contact with him with one of your hands due to the new position of your leg, but your other hand was now gripping at his forearm. “I’d be fucking miserable without you.”

With one sharp thrust forward, you felt him move even deeper inside of you, and you choked on your moan as you felt him inside your tummy. Tears filled your eyes again, but this time out of pure pleasure, not frustration, and you moved the hand not touching him to your stomach. You pressed down right where you knew his tip was, and you both gasped at the feeling.

“So deep,” you babbled, closing your eyes as the tears now streaked down your cheeks. “I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” he assured you, pressing a firm kiss to your lips this time.

You moved your lips together in rather sloppy and uncoordinated kisses for a while, breaking your dynamic again for just a little bit to share a moment of true tenderness.

It wasn’t until Harry pulled away from you, and you opened your eyes to see that his pupils were blown again, just like they were before. You knew that moment of tenderness was over, and your stomach clenched with excitement in knowing what was to come.

Before you could even blink again, Harry started to thrust in and out of you at an accelerated rate. You felt your tits bouncing heavily each time his hips would clash against yours - the sound of your skin slapping together echoing off the walls surrounding you. Your mouth hung open, but no sound was coming out as you found yourself completely overcome with the pleasure surging through every nerve in your body.

“Where’s those sweet noises, hm?” Harry grunted, bunny teeth clamping down onto his plush bottom lip as his eyes held yours. You felt your own trying to roll into the back of your head, but you fought against it.

There was nothing better than seeing him above you like this. Every time you were in this position, you were able to take in his muscles as they flexed, you could witness the process of the sweat beginning to form along his hairline, and you could capture the way his eyes took in your body that would be completely exposed in front of him.

After a moment, Harry maneuvered around the bed as he pushed your other knee against your chest as well, your shins pressed against his pecs as his hands reached down to grasp your hips. He angled them up, and his eyes dropped down as he began to plunge into your soaked cunt once again. Your breath was stolen from you as you looked down between the two of you to see his slick cock entering and exiting you with vigor.

“Have I fucked you dumb, kitten?” Harry’s voice cutting through the atmosphere brought you back down to reality a bit as you looked back up to see him staring at you once more. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been this quiet. Can you talk to daddy? Can you tell him how you’re feeling?”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you stared up at him with doe eyes - his movements never ceasing as he waited for your response. His left hand left your hip to swat down against the inside of your right thigh, causing you to let out a lewd moan.

“Answer me,” he demanded, giving the skin he had just slapped a sharp pinch. “Answer me or daddy is going to deprive you of an orgasm.”

You choked out a sob as you stared up at him, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, and almost immediately dripping down your temples from the extreme ecstasy pulsing through your veins. You could feel him everywhere. He was everywhere. He was everything.

“F-full,” you choked out, blinking your eyes closed as you now felt his palm soothing the area he had just more than likely bruised, but you loved it. Just as he liked your scratches down his back, you relished in the bruises you would find littering your body for the days to come. It was like you were claiming each other. “And good. S-so good.”

“And probably a little confused, yeah? Trying to figure out how I can even fit? How your sweet little pussy manages to draw me in almost more each time?”

His dirty talk was out of this world when he was like this. You had never met someone who liked to talk to you in this way, and one time you came just from him pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit after talking dirty into your ear for almost twenty minutes during a cab ride home.

“You’re just so big, daddy,” you whined, hands falling next to your hips to claw at the comforter underneath your bodies. “And I-I’m so tight, but my cunt was made for you. Just you.”

“That’s right, baby,” Harry hooked the creases of your knees over his elbows to lean down, his lips hovering over yours. You groaned as he stretched your pelvis even further than he had before, but you quickly forgot the pain when his mouth met yours - ravishing you completely.

After a few more earth-shattering thrusts, Harry pulled out suddenly, and you gasped at the sudden loss of contact all together. He sat back on his heels - your legs flopping down against the mattress as you stared at him with pleading eyes.

“On your hands and knees, kitten. Turn around so I can see that plump ass knowing it’s going to be covered in my come soon.”

With shaky legs and arms, you obeyed his demands as you flipped onto your stomach. You quickly pushed yourself up onto your knees, and you pressed your palms down beneath you as you crawled backwards to be closer to him. It was only a few seconds later that you felt his one large hand grasping your hips, and you could hear the wetness of him stroking his arousal covered prick.

“Not going to be much longer, but you’re going to take my load like a good girl, right?” Harry nudged his tip into you again, and you gargled out a groan as you buried your face into one of the pillows. “It’s not going to be inside of you, and I know you’re okay with that. You always tell me how much you like to feel my come covering your skin.”

“Yes, I’ll be your good girl. Only want to be a good girl for you,” you whimpered, and before you knew it, he was thrusting forward to completely fill you up again.

Your jaw dropped, and you could’ve sworn you felt drool beginning to drip down your chin as he started to pound into you once more, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Your walls pulsed as you could make out every ridge and every vein of his long, but girthy, cock.

Harry’s hand came down and spanked one of the rounds of your ass, causing you to jolt forward just a bit before you were keening back into him. It was almost too much, but you wanted it. You needed it.

Only a few seconds later, you felt his spit come against your tightest hole, and then the pad of his thumb came down to spread it around. “Want me here too, kitten?”

“Yes, please,” you lifted yourself just a bit better to push yourself even further back towards him. “Want to be filled with you everywhere.”

Harry leaned down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades before you felt the tip of his thumb entering you as his dick continued to satisfy your weeping cunt. You knew you were close to your orgasm, but you didn’t want to ask for permission yet - you wanted to hold out as long as you could after missing him for so long.

“Taking me so well, but you always do, don’t you? The best girl I’ve ever had. I don’t know how I ever went without you, baby. Like ‘m cock was made just for you.”

It wasn’t shortly after being filled in both holes that Harry found the perfect rhythm, pulsing both his digit and his prick into you on the same beat. This was going to do you in - you were sure you didn’t have too much restraint left at this point.

“Gonna come, daddy,” you mewled out. “Can I please come? Been waiting all week to come on your cock.”

Harry groaned at your words, and you knew you were spurring him on even more. “Yeah, kitten. Go ahead and come. Soak me, and get me all wet. I wanna be covered in you - just like I’m going to cover you in me.”

That was all it took for you to drop over that edge, and you felt yourself gushing around his length that was in no way letting up. You knew that if he worked you through your orgasms, he worked you through them properly by draining every bit of you that he could.

“That’s it,” you could barely hear his praises as your ears were now ringing, your vision practically blurring from the euphoria that was blanketing over you. “Such a filthy fucking girl, squirting all over daddy just because he spoke some dirty words, and asked you to get him all wet. You messy little baby.”

You whimpered as you fell through your elbows, Harry’s movements elongating your orgasm even further before you felt his thumb leave you, and then his cock not too long after.

Puffs of breath were heard behind you, and you knew he was jerking himself off. Since you were already sinking into your elbows, you arched your back a little more to give him the perfect view of both of your holes. It was only seconds later that you started to feel his white ropes of pleasure covering your swollen pussy, spreading over your ass cheeks, and your lower back.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry huffed behind you, and eventually you didn’t feel anymore of his orgasm coating your skin.

Humming, you moved to lower yourself down completely onto the mattress, but Harry stopped your motions immediately. “Not so fast,” his breath fanned over your cunt, and that alone had your eyes slipping shut. “Daddy has to clean you up properly.”

The next thing you felt was tongue around your rim, properly eating you out there for the first time in a while. You moaned, pushing up onto one of your palms again so you could reach your other hand behind you - your fingers tangled into his messy curls. Once he moved lower, you still kept your grip on him as he licked at your cunt, and you heard him moaning again.

You knew that he loved the taste of the two of you together. It was one of his favorite things, and he made sure that you never forgot it.

Soon his mouth left your most sensitive areas, and he started licking along the globes of your ass before dragging his tongue along your lower back. His contact with you was gone all together after a few more seconds, and he collapsed next to you on the bed. You did the same shortly after, and his muscular arms dragged you into his side.

“That was amazing,” you breathed, lazily playing with the cross pendant hanging from his necklace that was laid against his chest. “Needed that after being without you.”

“I needed it too, honey. You were wonderful, as always. You feeling okay?”

You knew you were giving him the dopiest smile as you stared up at him, and you nodded. “Better than okay, H. I’m fantastic.”

“I’m going to run us a bath, okay? Just need a few more minutes,” he pressed his lips against your forehead, his fingertips stroking through the back of your hair.

“Funny, here I was the one thinking I would be leading the aftercare tonight,” you giggled, and he couldn’t help but to chuckle along with you.

“You know me, I like to surprise you - keep you on your toes.”

Sighing, you nodded as your eyes slipped shut, and you nuzzled your face into the side of his neck. “You always do - it’s my favorite thing.”

The night ended with you washing each other in a warm bubble bath, and Harry let you enjoy it a little longer as he changed out the sheets on the bed for fresh ones. Once you were out of the tub, he helped you change into a pair of your softest panties, knowing you had to be sensitive from your recent activities, and he tugged one of his shirts over your head. He was changed shortly after you, and you both climbed into the bed - clinging to one another instantly.

“I love you, baby. I’m so happy you’re home,” Harry muttered as he began to doze off.

“I love you too, Harry. Next to you like this is my favorite place to be.”

#harry edward styles #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harry x you #harry x y/n

[sylvie-writes]

Bad: The Unfortunate Ending

Inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella

(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)

A/n: this is my first attempt at angst so here we go... 

Disclaimer: not part of my fall writing, this is just a lil something bc I needed to write, it makes me happier after days as today. 

Warnings: Cheating, mild profanity, shitty angst & writing. Ransom being an asshole (rip all the soft Ransom stories I’ve written)

Series Masterlist

Never in a thousand years would you have seen yourself sitting in Boston’s most expensive and high end restaurant, a steak simmering at 500 degrees laying out in front of you, and the Ransom Drysdale sweetly smiling at you.

“Wait, before you start eating, I have something to ask you, love.” 

Was he gonna break up with you?

Ransom reached over his plate to reach your hand gently bringing it to his lips while maintaining eye contact with your shocked expression, soon calming.

Oh whew.

The man then set down your hand, and folded up the napkin in his lap before rounding the table, getting down on one knee. Your eyes were already welling up with tears, making it impossible to see all the people staring at you and Ransom.

“(y/n) (l/n)...

… … ...

Will you marry me?” 

After his adoring speech, the four little words came out and the man on his knee was staring up at you like you were a goddess. Overwhelmed, you happily spewed out the words of acknowledgement while Ransom slipped the lavish diamond onto your ring finger, kissing the now ringed finger before scooping you up from your chair, the two of you in a deep kiss amidst the cheers.

A few months later the two of you got married, and everything was a dream. You had a lovely house, and a husband who was practically your closest friend. The two of you spent all your time together, told every joke, talked all the time. Believe or not but Mr. Fancy Pants had preferred that you got married sooner rather than having an extravagant wedding ceremony. 

So that's what you did. One lovely Monday morning, you and Ransom drove to the courthouse, in the beamer, as if it were just any other day. 

You thought then and there, that this was it. Life was finally playing in your favor...

 All the little gifts you gave

I call it over compensating

Feeling just like a princess

Every answer was always yes

You had me living in a dream

 “Oh Ransom!” You played with the little puppy down at your feet, a red ribbon adoring it’s small, yet fluffy neck.The little thing jumped into your arms, causing you to lift off the floor, walking closer to Ransom. 

“Why did you get me a puppy, Hugh?” 

He just cheekily smiled and shrugged, walking by to kiss your cheek. “No reason!” 

You just laughed it off before going outside to play fetch with the energetic fur baby. 

Ransom always treated you for no reason, at times you really hated him for it, but not once would he ever let up.

About four months into your marriage, Harlan had invited you and Ransom to some writer’s charity gala, a black and white party, meaning Ransom was gonna rent a tux and you’d find an overly priced yet attractive dress. 

So, one Saturday afternoon, you and Ransom went to the mall, getting fitted for your clothes. You weren’t about the name brands like Ransom was, but today, Ransom now had full advantage to shower you in expensive clothing having already picked his tux yesterday. His sneaky little plan to go dress shopping with you.

“What about this one?” Your husband held up a black slip dress designed by Prada. Curiously you walked up to him, checking the tag to see its $1,000 price. In all honesty, from the looks of the dress, you had assumed Ransom picked up a simple dress. Sure, it was pretty but you weren’t about to pay that much just for the name. For what it is worth, you could sew and tailor the damn thing yourself. 

“That’s ridiculous, Ransom. I’m not about to pay that much.” 

You went to go walk off before you felt Ransom’s hot breath in your ear.

“Who said you were paying?”

Turning around, you playfully pushed him in the chest to which he laughed and peppered kisses all over your face.

“Ransom! Stop, you’re making a scene!”

He pulled away for a minute, your giggles ceasing.

“Let me treat you and I will stop.”

Quickly, the man resumed his attack, your pleas soon becoming words of compliance.

“Fine!”

His signature smirk danced across his lips, while his free arm snaked around your waist ushering you to the tailor’s stand. 

 What's forever long to you

Did you say that to her too

Making sure that I'd never know

Callin her while the shower goes

 It was a little after midnight and Ransom wasn’t home yet, today he had been out with some friends, not inviting you. Your only company for the day was your precious little puppy, who was curled up against your stomach. The endless worry had kept you up all night as you mindlessly stroked the puppy’s back, trying to calm your own nerves.

Eventually, an hour later, the hallway light shone under the door, Ransom coming in. He was met with your worried look and came to rush over to your side.

“You scared me to death, Ransom. Two hours ago, you were supposed to be back!” 

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry baby. Now, get some sleep, I love you. Forever, my love.”

Ransom gently pulled the blanket over you, kissing you goodnight, then heading off to shower.

Turning on the shower, Ransom pulled the phone out of his pocket, scrolling to the bottom of his contacts and dialing, Blair❤️. 

“Hey baby, today was amazing Ranny!”

A deep chuckle left Ransom’s throat, the woman on the phone giggling.

“I know, angel. You are the best, love ya forever, Sweetheart.” 

Blair continued to gush over the phone, recalling the earlier events of the day at her house where Ransom had spent the whole day. (leaving that sentence to the eye of the beholder.)

Shower, and you, long forgotten, Ransom spent the rest of the night talking to the woman, leaving the bedroom to go downstairs, assuming you were already asleep.

Ironically, that night, you dreamt of all the times you and Ransom would stay up just talking and laughing...

Then crawl back in bed, it's a shame

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 It was 4 am, and Blair had fallen asleep on the phone, leaving Ransom to bid her goodbye and get some shut eye himself. 

It was like sleeping next to a stranger, the warmth of the bed now gone. Coldness, replacing the loving embrace.

About two months ago, your work gave its employees a week off for the holidays. It was once in a blue moon that you got to see your family, so you seized this opportunity. You wished your husband could have come, but Ransom had to stay behind to help Harlan with an upcoming novel. In truth, Ransom never saw himself reverting back to his bad ways, but who knows what entices people to change.

One night, Ransom went out for a drink, a young lady, about twenty-seven years old, came up to the sulking man. He was drowning his sorrows in a couple of beers, wishing he were there with you. Oh how he missed you!

“Hey stranger.”

The sultry voice hit too close to home for Ransom, a voice he knew all too well.

And let’s just say a few drinks later, he came to remember his old fling as Blair.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

It felt like you were living a hallmark movie, and never would you have thought any different.

Your feet were propped on the Ransom’s lap as the two of you laid down Uno cards on the coffee table. 

“Ransom?”

“Yes, darling?”

You set the Uno cards in your lap, adjusting on the couch so that you’d be straddling Ransom. The man brightly smiling at you, enveloping you with his muscular arms. In complete bliss, you leaned forward and kissed him, a slow and intimate kiss. Time completely stopped as you were just in your own little world. 

He treated you so well, you’d never be prepared for the heartbreak that’d ensue. 

 I wasn't catching on to you

Blinded by your lips so smooth

Excusing all of your gotta goes

Leaving me to be all alone

 “Do you really have to go, Ransom?” 

Your arms were wrapped around the man’s neck, pleading for him to stay. A small frown made a way onto his lips before he leaned in to kiss you deeply, pulling away from your lips while you were still trying to catch up. 

“I gotta go.”

With that, he rushed out. A business meeting was it? Or was it Harlan? You couldn’t remember. For the past two months, you’ve been accepting all of his excuses, soon all of them blending, yet in the end you were always left standing in the house, alone with your dog.

It's okay, you told yourself. Sure he forgot your birthday last month. It’s fine.

As long as he didn't forget your wedding anniversary next month, everything would be fine…

Right?

 Then you took my heart just the same

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 No it wasn’t fine. He forgot your anniversary. He forgot you. In the mornings, he’d no longer stay with you, instead finding an excuse to rush out, no kisses, not even hugs, Rarely did the two of you talk and soon, it became your new normal.

You should’ve known better.

 Every word you said you was sweet but you was lying

Everything you covered making up just to keep to me from crying

Another late night, Ransom had gone to help his mother at some dinner party for her business, or so he said. He left early this morning, claiming he was gonna help set up and that he’d be home by 8. Yet, here you are, watching the 11 o’clock news, waiting for your husband’s arrival since he had left you with radio silence all day.

Suddenly, the door flew open, a sloppily dressed Ransom, stumbling in, clearly piss-ass drunk.

“Oh you're awake!”

You walked over to help him sit on the couch, just as you were about to turn off the lamp beside the couch, you noticed a tint of red lipstick on Ransom’s lips. You hadn’t worn any lipstick today, right?

Tenderly, you traced your thumb over his lips, as his eyes gazed into yours.

“Ransom, what’s on your lips?”

In a poor attempt, Ransom went to grab your hand, missing and instead grabbing your shoulder, leaning in to kiss you, instead getting your ear. 

“It’s nothing, (y/n).” 

His head was laying on your shoulder, as he was about to fall asleep, his energy suddenly gone.

“Really? It seems like something, you have a woman’s lipstick on your lips for god sake!”

Ransom then perked up and hugged you tightly, whispering reassuring words to you. Drunkenly, his words mashed together, causing you to barely understand his “comforting” speech. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart, I’d never do that to you.”

Sweetheart, a name once reserved for you, now unknowingly shared with another woman.

Believing his lies, because why not? He had never given you a reason not to trust him, not yet anyway.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

 That very next week, Ransom had to leave once again, this time a boys’ trip to the club. You thought nothing of it, now used to his absence, keeping to yourself with the dog and some friends.

Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a sandwich and lemonade out on the front porch when a Maseratti pulled into the driveway, a familiar man stepping out.

“(y/n)! Is Ransom home?”

The man pulled you into an embrace, leaving you confused at his presence.

“Why are you here Oliver? Ransom said he was out with you and James.”

Oliver just shrugged his shoulders, he too jumping to the same conclusion. At this point you were just seeing red, storming into the house, Oliver following. You practically were stomping holes into the hallway for your footsteps were as heavy as your heart. Maybe all along you had been suspicious deep inside, maybe you just never wanted to believe it.

Then finding Ransom’s phone in his nightstand, you came back into the doorway to meet Oliver. If your suspicions were true, you’d like to at least embarrass the dumbass in front of his friend. They all knew he was a playboy at heart, but after you, every one had assumed he’d matured somewhat. 

Clearly, they were all wrong.

Your husband was the biggest idiot in the world, making his password your anniversary date, for he was so forgetful. You found this hilarious, because he forgot your first wedding anniversary, god you were so naive. 

Was this wrong? Sleuthing through his phone?

Sure. But it could never equal up to what you were about to find. 

Opening text messages, 50 unread, all from you, your messages definitely ignored as a woman named Blair was at the top of his messages. 

You gagged at the heart by her name, one that used to be by yours. Scrolling through the texts, you found yourself growing angrier by the minute, finally, you just lost it. With great vehemence, you slammed the phone against the floor, making it shatter everywhere, Oliver and your dog, slightly jumping.

It was then that it hit you.

You crashed to the floor, crying hysterically, as the world came crashing down with you. Oliver, crouching down on the floor, trying to calm your sobs.

Tonight you were gonna confront that backstabbing, no good, cheating son of a bitch.

 Tell me the truth

Was it worth it was I worth it for you

'Cause we were perfect we working til you

Forgot to tell me you been seeing someone else for six years

It was 9 pm and you hadn’t expected Ransom’s arrival for another hour or two, so you spent the time packing your bags and drinking some coffee, preparing yourself to tear the man a new one. 

This time, there wasn’t a slammed door signaling Ransom’s presence, rather soft footsteps and his low voice, like the old days.

Ha, the one time he gets home early. Ehh you were ready anyway

“Hey babe! Oooh can I have some?”

Before you could answer, Ransom took your mug and a few swigs of coffee, handing it back to you, placing a kiss on your head. In utter surprise, you looked up at the man who just smiled down at you.

“You look I haven’t kissed you in weeks, my love.”

And with that he pecked your lips quickly, walking to the counter, you still trying to process what had just happened. 

It was true. He hadn’t kissed you in weeks.

No, you weren’t gonna let him win this time.

“It’s because you haven’t.”

Confusion swirled around on Ransom’s face, allowing you to continue.

“You haven’t kissed me in weeks. But you have kissed Blair, I'm sure.” 

The coffee mug in his hand dropped onto his foot, shattering, leaving you smirking at the small victory.

Heartbreak can make one go insane. Afterall, you are losing the one person you loved most, losing yourself along with them. 

“For months I have put up with your bullshit…” 

A good ten minutes passed of you yelling at Ransom, the man unexpectedly letting you finish.

“You’re a cheating, son of a bitch.”

Angrily, you ripped off the wedding ring, now noticing Ransom wasn’t even wearing his, for god knows how long too. Once upon a time, he’d proudly wear it all the time.

“(y/n) wait--”

Ransom grabbed your arm before you slapped him, the man slightly stunned.

“No. I’m tired of your excuses, I’m tired of letting you win. You and Brittany, should have an amazing life together, that is if you can even commit to her like you told me.”

A whisper of defeat left his mouth.

“It’s Blair…”

“The hell with it! You broke my heart Ransom! I knew it was too fucking good to be true. DAMN IT, I LOVED YOU.”

Hysterically laughing, you looked like a mad woman, lowering your voice just a bit.

“You know what makes this hurt 2x worse? I thought you had actually loved me too, because it seemed like it.”

You broke into tears, your heart in a thousand pieces, rushing away to grab your bags, Ransom not even trying to fight, knowing you're too strong this time. He let the best thing that ever happened to him slip away. 

Ages ago you could remember the lovely times with the man you once would die for, yet...

Your love was just an illusion. 

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

I wish that you would've treated me bad

Truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

a/n: maybe i should stay away from angst bc this sucked.

Updated a/n: this is gonna be a series! If you’d like to be on the taglist lemme know!!

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader

[lils-writes-stuff]

Spinning Wheels

Spencer Reid x reader

Best Years Season 2 part three | part two | part one | season one

summary: a local case hits a nerve with the reader

warning: normal criminal minds things, angst, description of shooting, yk fun stuff

A/N: based on season 8 episode 8; *chanting* angry reader, angry reader!

“Penelope,” Y/N sang as she entered the woman’s bat cave. She carried a coffee in each hand, one for her and one for Penelope. “I bring you a present.” 

 “Oh my gosh, you’re so sweet!” Penelope gushed as she grabbed the coffee from her hand. She pulled the lid off to look inside the cup. “This is my favorite, oh my gosh, you know I-”

 She looked up at Y/N to see her sheepish smile. She only brought Penelope her favorite, kind of expensive coffee, when she wanted something. 

 “No.” 

 “You don’t even know what I want!” 

 “I know that it’s big enough for you to bring me my favorite,” Penelope set the cup down and began typing on her computer. 

 “Garcia, I’m desperate,” Y/N admitted. She sat on the small open area on Penelope’s desk. “I can’t get anything out of JJ on what Spencer’s been doing up here at seven when we don’t have to be here ‘till nine. So I was hoping you can work some of your Garcia Magic and...” 

 Penelope stopped her typing, she knew exactly what Spencer had been doing. 

 Y/N noticed how Penelope stopped typing. “Oh my god, you know!” 

 “No, I don’t,” she lied. “Okay, well I know kind of what he’s doing, but I can’t tell you.” 

 Y/N knew she could get somewhere with Penelope, she was terrible at keeping secrets. 

 “Penelope,” Y/N drug out the name in a pleading tone. 

 “Uh-ah, my lips are sealed.” She ran her finger across her lips as if she was zipping them.

 Y/N gave her a pout and some puppy dog eyes, but Penelope turned away and stuck her nose up in the air. She was determined to not break and ruin Spencer’s plan. 

 Y/N sighed, if Penelope was going to be this persistent, then she wouldn’t get it all out of her. 

 “Fine, then can I admit something to you?” 

 Penelope turned to her, hearing her serious and almost shy tone. 

 “Of course.” 

 “I, um, I bought him a ring,” Y/N confessed, wringing her hands together like she normally did when she was nervous. 

 Penelope gasped and a gigantic smile formed on her face. “You did!?” 

 “Yeah, I did, here-” she reached for her purse she set on the desk behind them- “I bought it about a week ago.” 

 She pulled out the grey box and revealed the simple gold band on the inside. 

 Penelope, extremely excited, grabbed the box with shaking hands. “Oh my gosh, Y/N!” 

 “Is it weird? I know it’s not normal for a girl to propose-” 

 “It’s not weird at all, I think it’s a great idea,” Penelope interrupted to clear her doubt. “If he doesn’t do it-” 

 She stopped and cut herself off, almost revealing the secret she had been trying so hard to keep. 

 “If he doesn’t accept it, then he’s a total loser,” Penelope stammered as she tried to correct her words. 

 Y/N laughed at her phrasing, and Penelope laughed too, glad she didn’t think anything of her almost slip up. 

 “I also got, um, I got our initials engraved on the inside,” Y/N pointed to the small initials on the inside of the band. 

 “Y/N…” Penelope sighed and took the ring out of her fingers to look at it. “You are so amazing, Spencer will love it.” 

 Y/N sighed in relief, she needed to hear that. The two kept talking and Penelope was trying to give her some ideas of when to ask him. 

 “Does anyone else know?” Penelope asked, handing the ring back to Y/N. 

 “Just my mom and London,” Y/N answered. “London actually helped me pick out the ring, we-”

 She stopped herself when her eyes caught the TV.

 “Penelope,” Y/N hit the woman’s shoulder to get her to turn around. 

 “What?” 

 They both stared at the TV in horror. The headline read “High School Bus Is Taken Hostage”. One cue, Penelope began to get alerts and texts signaling that they have a case. 

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

 “What we have is a school bus abduction which accrued at approximately 1 P.M. this afternoon. What we know is there twenty-four students on board, along with the driver and a monitor,” Y/N said to the small group of detectives that sat in front of her, JJ, and Spencer.   

“The GPS appears to have been disabled, the last known ping was a little over two hours ago,” Spencer added. 

 “Highway patrol has traced the route it was last traveling but has found no signs of any accidents,” Y/N continued on their knowledge of the situation. “We also have helicopters and ground units in the D.C. area working local search and rescue. Which means we’re likely dealing with more than one unsub.” 

 “We’ve attempted to contact everyone on board, but so far all calls have gone unanswered,” Spencer said. 

 “But we can confirm that the students dropped off at the first two stops have been accounted for,” JJ added, shedding some hope on the gloomy situation. 

 “The average school bus holds approximately eighty gallons of diesel fuel, making it possible for them to travel up to 550 miles on a single tank,” Spencer explained, his hands moving as he spoke each word. 

 “Which is why we believe they’re still within a 200-mile radius,” Y/N closed as she nodded to the detectives. 

 “The SUVs are outside and we’ll set up our command post at central high,” Hotch said as he rushed past and to the elevators. 

 Spencer, Y/N, and JJ all glanced at each other, giving a look all the same. Silently saying, ‘This is gonna be a long day’.

 They quickly made it down to the front of the building and into the SUVs.

 On the drive to the high school, the sirens were on as they tried to make it there as fast as possible. 

 “Okay, thanks,” Penelope hung up her phone. “Local P.D. says they just found a backpack full of the kids’ cell phones half a mile from the second bus stop.” 

 “Disarming the GPS, disposing of cell phones, makes it feel less random and more premeditated,” Y/N said as she looked back at Penelope from her seat upfront. 

 “There were seven other buses from different schools on their route. Why target this particular bus?” Spencer said as he tried to dive into the minds of the unsub. 

 “Maybe a group of kids got together to pull this off?” Y/N posed. 

 “Waited for their friends to get off at an earlier stop, then made their move,” Spencer said as he dove more into Y/N’s theory. 

 “Okay, I’m checking school disciplinary records to see if I can find any recent suspensions.” Penelope pulled out her tablet and began searching. 

 “It could be about a specific target and the other kids just got in the way,” Hotch added his own thoughts in. 

 Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket as it rang. “Hey, Blake you’re on speaker.” 

 “Uh, I’ve been looking over the personnel files of the bus driver, Roy Webster, something isn’t adding up,” Blake said over the phone. 

 “What did you find?” Spencer’s voice spoke up from his backseat spot behind Y/N. 

 “Over the past three years, Webster had several altercations with students, but was never formally reprimanded,” Blake answered.

 “It sounds like the school hasn’t told us the whole story,” Rossi’s voice was heard over the phone. 

 “We know how disrespectful some teenagers can be, maybe he snapped,” Derek’s voice was heard next as he posed his thoughts.

 “It could be payback for years of abuse,” JJ’s voice said next. 

 “What about the woman who was on the bus?” Spencer asked. 

 “That would be Carol Roberts, a retired teacher, assigned to monitor Webster’s bus six months ago,” Kevin Lynch’s voice said. 

 “What’s that about?” Rossi questioned. 

 “I took a bus all through high school, we never had a monitor,” Kevin said as he didn’t know the formal answer to the question. 

 “Makes you wonder who she was there to keep an eye on-- the kids or Webster?” Derek posed. 

-----------  

 Y/N had sat through many family interviews before, comforting them after a loved one had been murdered or taken. She had done it plenty of times to know what words to use, how to act depending on the family, she was trained for it. 

 This though was a whole new level.

 Her chest felt heavy as she listened to the mother explain how her son was a good kid and how it was just him and her. She didn’t know why this one particular interview was taking so much out of her. It felt emotionally draining to watch this mother cry over her young son named Billy. Maybe it was because she could relate to it.

 After her older brother died and her father left, it was just her and her mom. She was around his age too when it happened. 

 Walking out of the classroom she had the interview in, she stalked into the closest bathroom she could find. Her hands pressed against the ceramic sink as she leaned on it to keep herself up. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the white surface tightly. She could feel her pulse course through her hands as it picked up. This was not the time to be emotional, so she didn’t let this moment last too long. 

  She took a couple of deep breaths, looked at herself in the mirror, and walked out of the bathroom.

 She had gotten past her brother dying, sure she missed him every day, but her grief had passed. When she thought about him it was wistful and happy, so she didn’t know why this was bothering her. 

 She tugged at the bottom of her maroon blazer, making sure it was straight after she opened the door of the bathroom. She took two steps out into the hallway, and glanced to the left and then to her right looking to see if anyone saw her walk out. After assessing she was alone, she let out another sigh and walked down the hall to the performance room. 

 “Y/N,” Derek called as he jogged down the hallway. 

 “What’s up, Morgan?” She asked as she turned to the man coming down the hall. 

 “We’ve got an address.” 

 The SUVs and squad cars turned up the dust as they parked in front of an old barn. The team hopped out of their respected cars, pulling out their guns as S.W.A.T. unloaded in front of them. 

 The team stood in anticipation as Hotch nodded for the captain to open the door. As the doors swung open, the S.W.A.T. team entered and walked around the school bus that was parked on the inside. 

 “Bus is all clear!” Derek yelled from the inside of the bus after checking it.

 Y/N followed Spencer as the two walked around the rest of the barn to check it, making sure it was clear and there was nothing else there. When they finished, they walked outside and met Blake who had just checked a shed. 

 The three holstered their guns as they walked over to the head detective on the case who nodded for them. 

 “Barn was registered to a Violet Burgin, she died a few months back. It's been abandoned ever since.” the Detective said as he approached them. 

 “Making this a perfect transfer point,” Y/N said as she glanced back at the barn. 

 Blake was about to say something, but she was stopped when the sound of the bloodhounds barking was heard. 

 “They found something,” Spencer said and took out his gun. The four of them along with some others in the immediate area ran towards the dogs.

 They approached a wooden door that was latched closed. The Detective placed his hand on the latch, waiting for the S.W.A.T. team member to give him his cue. When he nodded, the Detective pulled the latch and pushed the door open quickly. 

 “Please don’t hurt us,” a young girl said as they were met with the light from the outside.

 “It’s okay you guys are safe now,” Spencer said as he began to undo the bindings on their wrists.

 Y/N looked up and began counting the kids in the room as quickly as she could, but of course, Spencer beat her to it. 

 “There’s only fourteen here, we need to find the other ten,” Spencer looked back at Blake and Y/N who were still standing in the door. 

 Y/N gripped her gun tighter. She let out an agitated sigh and walked away from the room. 

------------ 

 The students ran to their parents as the doors to the cafeteria opened. Y/N sauntered in behind them, watching as the parents hugged their kids, grateful they were okay.

 JJ walked up next to her and sighed as they watched the families. 

 “Where’s Billy?” The brown hair woman who Y/N had interviewed earlier asked walking up to her. Another student, who’s name was Sean, dad walked up behind her. 

 Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t phrase the words to tell them that their kids were still missing. 

 “There’s still a number of students unaccounted for,” JJ answered for Y/N, noticing that she was struggling.

 When Billy’s mom gasped, Y/N’s eyes widened and quickly added, “But we’re still looking.” 

 Sean’s dad walked away but Billy’s mom stayed. “Oh, my god,” she muttered. 

 Y/N’s lips formed a tight line and she placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder to comfort her. 

 Once the woman had calmed down, Y/N started to make a beeline for that same bathroom she was in before. On her way there, Spencer stopped her, noticing her disheveled state.

 “Hey,” he whispered as he stepped in front of her. 

 She sighed, she didn’t want him to stop her, she didn’t want anyone to stop her. 

 When she tried to push past him and continue to the bathroom, Spencer put his hand gently on her arm. 

 “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

 “Nothing, it’s nothing,” her voice cracked. 

 “No, it’s not,” he said. 

 She let out a frustrated sigh. “I was over this, I was over my brother, I thought I was over it.” 

 “Your brother?” Spencer gave her a confused look. Of course, he knew about her brother, how when he was seventeen he was diagnosed with osteosarcoma. How her dad walked out because of the medical bills, how her mom picked up two jobs to help pay for medical bills. How even Y/N, when she was legally allowed to work, picked up a job to help. 

 “One of the victims, Billy,” she let out a shaky breath. “It’s just him and his mom, and he’s about the age I was when I lost my brother, and it just hit a nerve, I guess.”

  Spencer reached to give her a hug, but she pulled away. 

 “No, I don’t- no,” she held her hands out as if she was putting up a boundary. “I just need a second to be irritated, just give me one second to be angry at the son’s of a bitch’s who decided it was a good idea to take a bunch of teenagers.” 

 So Spencer did, he watched as she paced side to side in the locker filled hallway. One hand on her forehead and the other on her hip, muttering curse under her breath. 

 This is the most irritated Spencer had ever seen her in a case, she was so calm and collected usually. Sure, every now and then she got a little emotional, but so did everyone. This though, this wasn't a sad emotion, she was angry. Furious even. 

 Spencer jumped as the sound of Y/N’s boot hitting an empty trash can echoed through the hall. She stopped pacing, standing in the middle of the hallway now, her face laying on her palms. 

 “Okay, I’ll take that hug now.” She walked over to Spencer and wrapped her arms around his waist. 

 His arms wrapped around her shoulder, his cheeks pressed against the top of her head. He turned his lips to kiss the top of her head softly, keeping them there until they pulled apart from their hug. 

 Another reason she loved Spencer so much, he knew when to give her a second to breathe. Sure he was always there for her when she needed him, and vice versa, but sometimes she just needed to deal with her emotions on her own. And Spencer understood and respected that.

 --------------- 

 “Dividing them into groups-- you think that was to maintain control?” JJ asked as they stared at the pictures of the still missing students on the board. 

 “Mm, could be, but how do you explain the shock collars?” Blake asked as she remembered the collars that one of the students told her about. 

 “Torture,” Y/N said in a monotone voice. She stirred the coffee in her cup with a straw aimlessly, still upset about not being to find all the kids. 

 “Still, there doesn’t seem to be any method to how or why they were chosen,” Spencer added the thing they still hadn’t figured out.

 “Okay, so far we have two white males, early twenties, and wore gas masks of all things,” JJ recapped on their findings. 

 “Abducting a bus, a form of transportation, gas masks, shock collars, dividing people into teams…” Rossi trailed off as he walked up to the board. 

 “Sounds like ‘Gods of Combat’,” Y/N muttered as she listened to what Rossi was listing, the thought just coming out of her mouth like it was nothing. 

 “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Rossi pointed at Y/N. 

 “Wait, Rossi-” Y/N pushed herself off the desk she was leaning on- “We’re not seriously considering-” 

 “That this is a video game to them? Yes, I think it is.” 

 Everyone in the room looked at each other, all of them knowing it made sense and it was probably the most probable with what was going on.

-----------

 “These guys are replicating a video game?” Derek asked as he, Rossi, and Blake entered the room. 

 “In the game, you take over a form of public transportation; subway, train, bus. That’s how you get your players,” Rossi explained. 

 “Wait a minute,” Blake stopped Rossi. “You’ve played this game before?” 

 “Well, I may have once or twice,” Rossi admitted. “But so has Y/N.” 

 When Rossi pointed an accusing finger at her, she raised her eyebrows in shock. “Rossi, I only played it because the kids I babysat made me, what’s your excuse?” 

 Everyone shook their heads as they laughed. 

 “If I remember correctly though, the game consists of five players.” Y/N walked up to a whiteboard and pulled out a marker. “Captain, lieutenant, a pair of soldiers, and the pawn.” 

 She wrote each of the positions on the board. 

 “Maybe the unsubs picked them based on their personality type,” JJ said as she looked at the pictures of the students. 

 “Well, Sage and Trent-” Derek pointed to the two pictures- “are both athletic. So they probably would have been considered lieutenants.” 

 “Wendy would most likely have been considered the pawn,” Rossi added. 

 “They preselected these kids.” Y/N crossed her arms as she turned back to face those behind her. 

 “Probably got details about their lives from social media sites. Most teens don’t use privacy settings, anyone can gain access,” JJ said. 

 “They planned their attacks and struck the bus when it was the most vulnerable,” Blake nodded. 

 “That explains why the unsubs only needed ten of these kids and left the rest behind,” Derek added. 

 “So how do the collars fit into all this?” JJ asked, looking between Y/N and Rossi. 

 “They’re used to keep your player from straying from their mission,” Rossi replied. 

 “The object of the game is to destroy as many of your opponents as possible,” Y/N added on to the game.

 “The one with the highest body count wins,” Rossi continued. 

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

 “So these guys just got together and decided to pull this thing off?” The Detective asked as Spencer, Y/N, and he walked down the hall back to the performance room. 

 “You know, something this elaborate, it’s likely they’ve known each other for years, actually,” Spencer clarified. 

 As the three continued to walk, Penelope appeared behind them as she walked out of the computer lab with her laptop. 

 “Hey, I just got off the phone with the people who produce ‘Gods of Combat’--”

 “Lovely people I assume,” Y/N joked, trying to keep some light heart in the air. It was mostly for herself though, so she wouldn’t think too much about being upset. 

 “Uh-huh, it turns out they have six million players worldwide, 40,000 of which are D.C. residents,” Penelope continued. 

 “Garcia, if they’re capable of this type of violence in real life, do you think we’d see some sort of evidence of it in their gaming history?” Spencer asked, stammering as he tried to find the right terminology.

 “What type of evidence?” The Detective asked. 

 “He’s talking about the universal online gaming code of conduct,” Y/N answered. 

 “Yeah, prevents stuff like harassing, threatening other players, cyber-bullying, that kind of thing,” Penelope gave some more elaboration on the subject.  

 “How’s that supposed to help us find these kids?” The detective asked confused as to why it was relevant. 

 “Instead of looking for people who play the game, we need to look for people who were kicked out,” Hotch answered.  

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

 Y/N sipped on her fourth coffee of the night. She sat criss-cross applesauce on the table next to Spencer as they waited for Penelope to come up with some findings from the new info Kevin narrowed it down to. 

 “Okay, a month ago two players were kicked out at the same time for hacking into hell mod,” Penelope said as she continued to type on her computer to find more. “Previous to that, they both logged thousands of hours playing the game, dating back to early 2000.” 

 “You got any names, Garcia?” Derek asked, back still faced to the three sitting at or on the table. 

 “No, just online handles, but--” she stopped herself as a ping on her computer sounded- “You know what’s weird? They were both playing from the same IP address.”

 “So they live together.” Y/N peered at Penelope’s screen. 

 “They’re roommates, maybe?” Spencer posed, walking to stand beside Penelope as she typed. 

 “Or siblings,” Derek argued. 

 “Oh that’s not good,” Y/N muttered into her cup as she took another sip. 

-

 “It doesn’t make sense,” JJ said after those in the room caught her up to speed with their findings. “If they are siblings, how do you explain the gaps in time when they weren’t logged in at the same location?” 

 “Yeah, it looks like it happened several times a year, sometimes from different states,” Penelope agreed as she looked at the time logs. 

 “Maybe their parents got divorced.” Spencer looked up to JJ and Y/N who were currently standing next to each other. 

 “Maybe the parent got divorced,” Penelope repeated and began typing again. The new thought gave her a fire that had burned out after the confusion formed. “Leave it to the genius to come up with the obvious, here we go.”

 As her ramble ended, two pictures popped up on the screen. 

 “Joshua and Matthew Moore. They both went to central high, their parents worked two jobs each to make ends meet, led to a messy divorce. Joshua went to live with his dad in Arizona, Matthew stayed with his mom in D.C.” 

 “That’s how they knew when to strike,” Y/N pointed her finger. “Probably rode the same bus route.” 

 “Long hours, different schedules, they were latchkey kids,” Derek added. “Video games became their babysitters.” 

 “As they got older, they got more competitive and it became more about bragging rights,” Spencer continued the deep dive of the unsubs stressor. 

 “This game became the core of their sibling rivalry,” JJ continued. 

 “But it wasn’t just a game,” Y/N corrected. “ ‘Gods of Combat’ was their one constant connection to each other.” 

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

 “Picked up a ping on the E.L.F.,” Kevin said as he entered the room. “It’s emanating from somewhere in this 25-mile radius, west of Bolivar.” 

 Kevin circled the area of the map he set down.

 “What fits?” Blake asked as she looked down at the map.

 “Well, there’s a few old factories and a couple of bunkers from the ‘70s,” Kevin replied. 

 “What’s this?” Y/N pointed to a building on the map. 

 “The old paper mill,” Kevin answered. 

 “You know, given the size and location, that could be the perfect spot.” Spencer used the pencil in his hand to tap the spot on the map as he spoke.  

 They all looked up at Kevin. 

 “I’m gonna pull the schematics,” Kevin exited the room to do so. 

 Soon after Kevin did that, Penelope was able to get in contact with one of the kids, Billy, by hacking the feed. They compared the rooms they could see on Billy’s camera and established it was the paper mill. 

 Then they were on their way there. 

 The team walked into the paper mill, mixed in between different members of S.W.A.T.. 

 Y/N crept down the hall with Derek, each of them turning to check a different opening as they saw one. When they heard pounding footsteps, they jerked towards the sound. 

 “FBI, drop your weapon,” Y/N commanded the person she couldn’t quite make out in the dark, all she could see was the gun. 

 “I’m Agent Morgan, this is Agent Y/L/N,” Derek said as he tried to calm the boy. “We’re the good guys, now drop the weapon.” 

 “How do I know this isn't part of the game?” The boy whimpered.

 “Kid, you gotta trust me,” Derek said, trying to make the boy back his guard down. 

 “Are you Billy?” Y/N asked calmly. 

 At his name, the boy turned to look at her, his gun lowering slightly. 

 “Yes.” 

 “Billy, you gotta trust us, you talked to our friend Penelope, remember?” Y/N spoke in a soothing tone. 

 “Come on, now, I know you’re scared, but don’t do anything stupid,” Derek spoke in a not so soothing tone. 

Billy hesitated, still afraid this was a part of the game, but then bent his knees and put the gun on the ground. Y/N sighed in relief and was about to walk towards him, but out of the corner of her eye she saw movement.

 Joshua Moore appeared, a large gun held to his side. 

 “Drop your weapon!” Derek yelled.

 When he realized he was cornered, his finger went for the trigger. 

 In an almost slow motion moment, Y/N aimed her gun and shot before he could do the same thing. The bullet went right through his chest, and the blood began to spread on his white shirt. 

 Joshua dropped to his knees, then fell to the ground as he let out a breath of pain. 

 Derek rushed over to check Joshua, but Y/N’s only concern was for the teenage boy whose mom had told her about. 

 “Hey, Billy, it’s alright.” She grabbed his arm and led him out of the room, not allowing him to look at Joshua’s now dead body. “Your mom has been worried sick about you.” 

 “You-you saw my mom?” He stuttered as a smile of joy and relief washed over his face.

 “Yeah,” and as they walked into the cool night air, his mom called his name. 

 He broke away from Y/N’s grasp and ran to his mom to give her a hug. And even though the circumstances wouldn’t normally allow it, Y/N smiled. She smiled as she got to watch the boy hug his mom, holding her like his life depended on it. 

 “I’m sorry, Trent,” a girl behind Y/N whimpered as a body bag rolled past. 

 For a moment, Y/N forgot where she was and what she had been doing, because she was thinking about the last time she got to hang out with her mom and brother together. The memory used to be painful, but now she looked back on it happily. The last time she saw her older brother smile a real smile. One that didn’t show pain from chemo, one that didn’t show he was dying, one that showed how happy he was to be with them. 

-----------

 Y/N closed the report from the case on her desk softly, laying her hand on top of it. She let her cheeks bubble out as she filled them with air, then let it out slowly from her lips. The office was quiet, everyone else gone. The team was still there though, finishing up some reports and the political side of the job. 

 “We saved them,” Spencer reminded her as he walked over, his tall figure towering her sitting one.

 “Yeah, I know, it’s not that,” she confessed, but didn’t look up at him, knowing he could read her eyes like the back of his hand. Or the back of anything really, seeing as he had an eidetic memory. 

 “What is it then?” He asked, leaning against her desk. 

 “For a split second today, I forgot I was at the scene of a crime,” she finally met his eyes. “I saw Billy reunite with his mom and I forgot where I was...because he reminded me of him.” 

 “Your brother?” 

 Y/N nodded. 

 “Oh, sweets, it’s okay to miss him you know? He was your older brother, and it was a terrible thing that he got sick--” 

 “Spencer, I know that, I know all that,” she cut him off, her voice soft and not cutting. “It’s just, I don’t know…”

 She rubbed her bicep with her hand and averted her gaze. She turned in her swivel chair to the family photos on her desk. In a line three photos sat; one of her and her mom at her college graduation, one of her and the team at a dinner Rossi hosted, and one of her and Spencer, from JJ’s wedding. These photos all showed people who were so important in her life, people she loved...people who were there. 

 “You feel guilty for not going to visit him,” Spencer said, catching onto her guilt as she stared at the photos. 

 “I think so,” she murmured looking up at him. 

 He smiled at her sadly. Reaching down, he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of her seat. “How about we go home, order some food, then tomorrow, you can talk to Hotch about going home to visit your mom?” 

 “I think I like that idea,” she quivered, a stray tear falling down her face. Man, was she grateful for this man.

 She picked up her bag from beside her desk, lacing her fingers with his and walked out of the office with him.    

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds meme #criminal minds imagine #criminal mids fic #derek morgan #derek morgan imagine #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner #Penelope Garcia #emily prentiss

[otpnessmess]

For you, there’s nothing I wouldn't do

Here it is finally! The first part of the Jasonette fake dating AU I had promised. I’m working on the following parts already as I will have a couple of weeks with a lot of free time. I’m so sorry for disappearing. Enjoy!

Ao3 - Masterlist

Next

-

“You’ve officially lost your mind, Jay, I swear to God.”

When Marinette had agreed to get up early on a Sunday morning because Jason had asked her to hang out, she didn’t think she’d regret it five seconds into meeting her best friend at their favorite restaurant. And she hadn’t yet, but it was very close.

“Nette, please, I’m begging you right now. Do you want me to kneel and plead? Because I will, don’t try me.” His blue eyes had always been her weakness and the puppy face he was making at her right now almost made her agree on the spot to whatever insane plan he had come up with. The keyword being almost.

“Alright, let me just reiterate to make sure I’m understanding. Your father is hosting a gala in a month and you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Marinette tried to keep her face as straight and serious as possible but it was proving hard since the words she had just said sounded utterly ridiculous.

“Pretty much, yeah. So, will you? I swear I’ll pay you if I have to, I just need you to help me out with this.” He had started to look hopeful since she had yet to outright deny him his request. “You know I love you Bug, and you’re the only one I can trust with something like this.”

Damn, he was good at telling her exactly what she liked to hear, and Mari was just not strong enough to say no to him, though she did plan to at least make him sweat a bit more for it. “Oh really? And what if I asked you for, I don’t know, a new car?”

Her forced attempt at being difficult hadn’t flown under Jason’s radar as he seemed to pick up on it and smirked. “We both know you would never ask for that since you refuse to let me pay for anything every time we go out, but if you did ask for that, know that I’m ready to do whatever you wish me to do. Do you maybe want an apartment? You did mention wanting to stop paying rent… ”

Despite the teasing tone in his voice paired with the sly smirk on his face Marinette knew he was dead serious which, even if it flattered her that her friend would even think about doing such a thing for her, made her backtrack on being difficult immediately.

“No! Argh, you’re impossible. Fine, I’ll follow along to whatever your brilliant plan is, but don’t you dare buy me an apartment, you crazy knobhead.” The look she shot at him tried to be venomous but seemed to be ineffective when the brightest grin took over Jason’s face as he moved to sit by her side to squish the living daylights out of the tiny woman.

“I swear I don’t know what I did to deserve you Nette, I love you.”

That earned him a playful smack on the arm as Marinette gave in and chuckled at his antics. “I love you too, you goofball. Now, get off of me and finish your breakfast.”

The man sat across her once again looking like the cat that got the canary, Cheshire grin in place. “You’re the best."

She pretended not to notice the way her heart paused for a beat when she saw the way Jason was looking at her, with caring eyes as if she was incredibly precious. Instead, the woman hid her face behind her mug of coffee.

"W-why do you need me to do this anyway? What do you need a fake girlfriend for?”

Jason’s demeanor instantly changed, his shoulders squared up and he frowned. “The annual gala my father holds for the company’s investors and partners is always full of old men who are full of themselves-”

“Doesn’t that remind me of someone?”

“Oh shut up, I at least have a good reason for it. They’re nothing more than a bunch of old hags who like to brag 24/7, and since this gala is in their "honor” they can bring guests with them. If I have to go by another year hearing them pitch their daughters and grand-daughters to me hoping I’ll date one of them, I’ll simply kill one of them. Some of the girls over the years have been nice but for every decent one you can actually talk to, you have at least 9 others doing the most ridiculous things to try and get your attention. I assume it’s what they are asked to do but I swear… And everyone else gets out of it too. Dick is already married to Kor'i, Tim is forever married to his job and Damian is not old enough for most of them. So that leaves me, the handsome Jason Todd, to carry the family’s weight on my shoulders.“

She snorted at the theatrical sigh he let out before laying his head on the table, immediately regretting it as he looked up at her with a glint in his eyes. "That’s where you, my dear Miss Dupain-Cheng come in. If I have a girlfriend, those girls will have to effectively back off of me as well, and I won’t have to restrain myself from being incredibly rude to them.”

“As if you could actually restrain yourself from being rude.”

Whether he didn’t hear her or just decided to ignore her comment Mari didn’t know, but once the monologue had been delivered, he leaned back on his seat with his signature smirk. “I’m a genius, I know.”

It took a whole lot from Marinette not to smack her dumbass of a friend again, but even she had to admit no one deserved to have their space invaded as she knew Jason had had in some of the other events his father organized, and if he was being truthful with her, then this gala was shaping to be even worse in that regard. If she could help her friend it would be enough for her, but in doing this she would also have an opportunity to design a gown to wear and hopefully get some people interested in her designs. Maybe she didn’t regret agreeing to this that much anymore.

“You’re one hell of a crazy person, Jay. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” She rolled her eyes and nudged his leg with hers under the table with a smile. “We’ll have to do some planning this month and you better be ready. I’m not meeting your family for the first time as your fake girlfriend without running through each and every way this could catastrophically end.”

His shoulders relaxed as he nudged her leg back, relief flooding his face seeing her so committed. “Don’t worry Bug, they will love you, and I’ll explain everything to them after this is over, but if they are in on it from the start I just know one of my brothers will screw it up. I think we can pull it off though, and you know I’m always up for a challenge.”

The already familiar confidence rush that ran through Marinette whenever Jason reassured her that everything would be fine made an appearance once more, and at that moment she completely trusted themselves to be able to make do with this crazy-ass plan. After all, Jay was stubborn and always ready to jump in head-first into the weirdest situations.

Newsflash. This time he wasn’t.

Jason had known it was risky to ask his best friend to play pretend so he could get rid of the sticky girls from the gala.

Not because he thought she would refuse, but because of his own feelings.

Truth is, he was in love with Marinette and had been ever since five months into their friendship they encountered two thugs trying to rob a teenager on their way to school. Jason had put one of them down but, before he could go for the second one, Marinette already had knocked him out.

Her breathing was just a bit labored from throwing the man over her shoulder and one of her pigtails had come off from where the robber had grabbed it, but then she turned to wink at him with a smile before going to see if the teen was alright. Red Hood could only feel the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Knowing Marinette was potentially able to kick his ass at any given moment had made him feel all kinds of things, and he was already a goner by the time she was back by his side.

That same night, and back in his bed, Jason was mulling over the earlier events. Read: thinking about Marinette. He had never felt so flustered around the tiny woman and it had proven to be a hard task to get her out of his head even when she had left for her own house several hours ago.

One thing led to another and soon he found himself reminiscing about the past months spent in Marinette’s company. How she always seemed to brighten up any room she walked into, making him feel like he should look away but being unable to. Her caring nature taking over whenever someone in need of help was in the vicinity, the tenderness with which she treated people’s injuries, be it physical or emotional.

Jason remembered the first time he had been at the receiving end of it. It had been the time when his identity as Red Hood was also revealed to her.

In his defense, he hadn’t expected Marinette to arrive early to his flat for their movie night only to find him trying to get the cuts all over his abdomen and arms to stop bleeding. Time seemed to freeze as they stared at each other, one sitting on a barstool at the kitchen isle, the other standing at the door with a bag of snacks in her arms. Marinette, being the quick-witted and resourceful person she was, recovered astoundingly quickly from her stupor and started chastising him while tending to the cuts herself while he could only look at her in awe.

Later, when he explained where he got injured, she didn’t seem fazed by discovering his identity. If anything she seemed…smug?

“What’s with that face? I expected more of a reaction:”

Her smile only grew at that as she put on the last bandage around his arm. “I’m glad you finally told me, but I kind of…already knew? I mean, I had my suspicions. You two had roughly the same measurements as far as I could tell, you also happened to go MIA whenever there was an emergency a time too many for it to feel like a coincidence. Also the little stunt you pulled the other day talking to me in the mask? You should’ve at least tried to fake your voice or something.”  Once she was done she patted his head with a wink and left him to process everything while she prepared the popcorn.

That wink had been so cheeky it left him swooning, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Wait. That had felt familiar.

Oh.

Oh.

Jason was brought back to the present with such force he thought someone had slapped him. Laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling at 3 am he couldn’t tiptoe around the issue anymore. He wondered how he hadn’t reached this conclusion much earlier.

He was in love with Marinette.

He was in love with his best friend.

Dear God, he was so fucked.

That had been the moment he accepted he was so utterly in love with Marinette, and even though Jason had hoped that what he thought was a very one-sided love would subside eventually, with each passing day where he got to know her better and better he only fell harder for her.

Why was he even thinking about all of this? Oh right. He had asked Mari to play pretend as his girlfriend that same afternoon.

What could possibly go wrong?

Marinette had taken it upon her to have their lie be as believable as possible, which meant she wanted them to at least plan out what they’d do if certain situations arose while they were navigating the gala. What this meant was that the following month they had spent a whole lot of time together, maybe too much for Jason’s sanity to remain as stable as it could.

Even if he was used to meeting her at least twice a week and spending their weekly movie night together, Mari practically lived in his apartment now. And he wasn’t complaining at all, but by the gods, if it wasn’t so damn distracting to have her around. She would often keep him company while asking questions about the people who would attend the gala, working on her dress for it, or simply walking around the house jokingly complaining about how Jason tasteless choice of furniture and decorations made the living room look like a yard sale.

Oh, and there was also all the teasing. There had been a consistent amount of it between them before, but now it had turned into a constant stream of cheeky comments, smirk exchanges and usually a smack or two from Mari.

All in all, Jason had lived through both the most blissful yet most frustrating month of his life and the worst of it had yet to arrive, though time did pass by way faster than he would’ve hoped for.

And just like that, the big night was upon them.

-

And that’s it! Hope you liked this little thing and look forward to the next parts! Thank you a lot for reading <3

Tag List

@vixen-uchiha @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tbehartoo @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @queenmj10 @mochegato

#jasonette #jason x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml x dc #liswrites #for you theres nothing i wouldnt do #pt 1 #maribat

[xhudgenssistersconfessions]

My Zanessa ff

I tried my best to traslate it my Zanessa ff in a good english. Forgive me, I tried to do my best between having a life and a full time job. You can still find it on wattpad written in italian. Maybe I will publish it on english too if someone is interested. https://www.wattpad.com/user/FrancyF94

- Fran 

Chapter 1: I set out on a narrow way many years ago

  “I set out on a narrow way many years ago

Hoping I would find true love along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you "

- “God Bless the Broken Road” Rascal Flatts         

  Arroyo Grande, California - September 2014

Zac Efron gave a sad look at his childhood home: it always seemed the same house that his father had built when he was just one year old. The grass in the driveway and back garden was yellow and dry from the drought that had hit the state of California during the summer, but the flowers in the flowerbeds her mother tended with great care were in bloom. The old car Mustang of his grandfather Harold was always parked in the driveway and the basketball hoop that his father had set up for him and Dylan when they were little was rusty, but always present . The light beige walls of the house had been repainted by Zac himself a few years earlier. It all looked the same, but now he couldn't stare at that house for more than ten seconds. 

Zac was sure that on entering the front door, past the entrance hall, he would find his old grand piano, his father's electronic engineering books stacked in neat rows in the large cedar bookcase , and the whole house wrapped in the scent of his mother's famous blueberry waffles. The he would go upstairs in his old room, and her mother would have lecture him because despite having reached the threshold of twenty-seven years old, Zac’s old room still remained inaccessible because of the piles of clothes strewn on the floor, along with scores music and torn sheets of some script.

The young man closed his eyes, like wanted to hold those memories and fossilize them in his mind, but then the voice of his younger brother Dylan brought him back to reality.

- I can't believe they want to sell the house-.

The 22-year-old made a disgusted face and takes a long sip of beer, wiping his lips with his hands.

-Why didn't you buy it? - he snorted , with an obvious note of reproach.

Zac rolled his eyes and ignored him: his brother's disappoint was not the last thing you had to occupy.

-Dyl, I've already explained why. There is no point in buying it. What was I supposed to do with it?-

-Leave it like this! Fuck, it's like we're selling our whole life! All of our memories are in here! - Dylan kicked a frustrated kick at the " Sold" sign that towered undisturbed on the lawn, and immediately regretted it, cursing at the pain that he had caused to himself.

-Dylan , I already have two houses. I don't need a third one-

-But it is our home!-

-I know it. Do you think I agree with this whole situation? -

-I believe that you are proving too accommodating. It’s so easy, this is not the time to behave like this! They look like two in their twenties! They have no right! They don't have the right to take and throw away a life together! - the boy's voice cracked. - They don't have the right - he muttered, kicking a pebble and hiding the face of his older brother.

Zac was sure Dylan was holding back from bursting into tears. What did he think he was doing? Their parents certainly didn't need to ask their permission to do certain things. And then he too was shuddering, but with confusion. He wanted answers. He hadn't felt so lost in years, or maybe it was only years that he pretended to be fine and that his life was going great. He was so accustomed to goodbyes and change identities and roles in his work, who really did not understand all the rage of his younger brother. But a small part of him hates Dylan. Even in that situation it was up to him to take care of Dylan. Zac have to play the part of the good big brother, tell Dylan that everything would be okay in the end.  Zac himself wasn't sure about it , but he knew he had to do it because he would never, ever abandon his family in a moment like that .

-Hey guys! We did not call you to chasing butterflies! - the voice of their father David called both brothers to work - I need a hand here ! - said the man dragging two old bikes along the driveway. Zac tried to make himself feel good. Those were their old bikes. What the hell was his dad doing? Did he want to throw them away? They were old, but certainly not scrap. Why did he have all this sudden urge to get rid of their old stuff?

- Come on, let's go. The sooner we finish packing everything, the sooner we can leave little brother- Zac held out a hand to him and Dylan helped him get up.

-I go inside to mom and you stay with dad , ok? -.

Dylan nodded and walked reluctantly into the garage while Zac entered in the house. Just a few weeks early the hall’s walls were full with family photos: little Zac and Dylan with their female cousins during their childhood, family holidays in Hawaii and Colorado, David’s photos of his work trips. Now it was all gone.

Zac saw his mother in the kitchen area. She was setting up pot and pans in some sad brown boxes.

-Hey mom, do you need a hand here? -

-Oh yes, thanks honey. You can start bringing these in the car. I don't think your father wants to keep them , they're just old dishes from grandma's good service. They'll have a better spot in my new house-.

Beside Starla were four full boxes with the word "Kitchen" on it. Zac took a breath while Dreamer, the old family dog, was bouncing around, sniffing Zac’s snew brand jeans.

-Hey dude- he scratched his head affectionately -you'll change house soon-.

For nearly ten years that old dog had lived in Arroyo Grande and now… and now he will live in Oregon. If Zac stopped to think about it it was absurd. Even more absurd was to think that even him would never set foot in that house again.

-I will cry every night without him- his mother finally turned to look at him. Starla, despite her sixty-five years, was still an extremely attractive woman : blonde, without even a white hair , with sweet features and two large hazel eyes. Zac, however, could not help but notice that his mother was extremely tense and had two deep dark circles that furrowed her eyes, as if she hadn't slept well for months.

-Mom I'd take it , you know. I already have Puppy and Simon gets along well with dogs, but Dad insisted so much on having him-.

-No honey, it’s okay. Your father wants to do his own thing this time too ... where’s your brother? -

Zac tried to ignore his mother's unhappy comment.

-Dylan is in the garage helping dad, he is a little lost, but he'll soon get over it-

Stare was silence for a moment, she was pale. Then she approached the eldest son and hugged him tightly.

-Thank you honey for coming today. And thanks for dragging Dylan here. I know he's angry , you probably are angry too-.

Probably he was angry. His mother was probably right. Probably Zac should have been angry too. But the reality was that he was not angry, he was in a blind confusion. How was it was even possible that his parents, after two��children and thirty years of marriage, had decided to put an end to their marriage? How was it possible that two people who had been madly in love for years now decided to divorce? And without even some drama. Zac had noticed that something was wrong between his parents during the Easter holidays, the last April, but had not given too much attention on it. He was so busy with his new movie and then what couple didn't have some bumps on the road  after so many years together? Besides, he and his brother had  left home at a young age and her mother had recently lost his father. Perhaps Starla and David were just going through a transition phase. But when the two young Efron brothers showed up home for the Fourth of July holiday , their parents sat them down in the living room, announcing their impending divorce. “ We don't get along anymore” his father had sadly sentenced, visibly embarrassed when his parents, Hal and Dot, both in their eighties, had asked for an explanation cause they were worried. Zac hadn't believed a single word because everything his father had said to justify himself : it just didn't make sense in his head. It just didn't make sense. Because two adults with common sense as her parents had always been don't wake up one morning and decide that they don't love each other anymore, that they feel so indifferent towards each other that they ask for a divorce. They were not an inexperienced young couple with small children, they were two mature people with children already away from home. Starla and David should have enjoyed the serenity that reigned in the Efron house…. and instead they had come to hate each other .

- Mom, can I ask you something? – Zac said.

-Anything you want honey-Starla looked into his son’s eyes..

-Dad was cheating on you? -. he knew he was crossing a fine line between respect for his parents and irreverence, but he wanted honesty from both of his parents.

Starla started to hear those words coming from one of her children. He looked to Zac straight in the eyes.

-Zachary ...-

-I am serious mom. I know it's not a question ... it's not a simple question to answer-

-It is not a question a child should ask to his mother-

-Mom, please. You 've been talking to me about sex and love since I was ten and you and dad have been fucking open with me and Dylan. I just have to understand-

-Love changes Zac. It changes and in some cases it ends - .

The young man gave her a doubtful look: it couldn't be like that, it wasn't enough for him. Love ends for a reason.

- I don't think that's enough. Not after thirty years. Until last year everything was fine, you and dad loved each other. You and dad were fine-

- Your father and I had been in trouble for a long time. We had been in that way for a long time, but we gritted our teeth and always told ourselves that it was worth trying to fix things, but then we reached the breaking point-.

-How much time? -

- A long time - now Starla was slightly annoyed - please Zachary, these are ... these are decisions ... this decision that your father and I made was terribly difficult for both of us . But I want him to be happy and he wants the same thing for me. I know that and you and Dylan do not understand our choice, but I ask only to respect it-.

Zac took a step back. Perhaps he had exaggerated, perhaps he should have given her space.

.Ok- he replied, shrugging - I'm going to put these in your car and I'll be back-.

A moment later Starla found herself squeezed in the arms of her eldest son. Zac's arms encircled her from behind and the boy deposited a light kiss on her head. He had already got rid of the box.

-Sorry mom. Sorry- he whispered - I shouldn't have asked you those things-.

-It's okay- the woman turned to look him in the face and reassure him - I don't expect you and Dylan to approve this… this thing-.

The woman lightly touched the blue coin that peeled from her son's breast : it had been a year since Zac hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. He had done it for his health, but mostly for his family.

-Dad and I know that for you, the last year has been difficult , indeed the last few years  . But we are so proud of you honey-.

-Mom ... - the boy blushed. If there was one thing he hated it was receiving compliments when he knew he didn't deserve it. His mother was right, it was a difficult year for him.

- After all, you have been sober for more than a year, not that you were an alcoholic before ... -

-Mom, stop it-

-What's ?-

-Stop! I don't deserve it! -

-What? You started drinking too much, you noticed it in time and went through rehab. You're a good boy and you always take care of your brother. Zac, you deserve these compliments. You are my baby-

-I am not your baby anymore, for many years now- Zac kissed her on the cheek. He was incredibly grateful to her. He was incredibly grateful to both of his parents. -Dyl and I wanted to leave immediately, but I think that we’ll sleeping here and we'll have breakfast together-.

-Do you wanna sleep here? Zac the furniture in your room has already been taken away-

-We will use the sleeping bags in the garage - Zac looked around , full of affection for his childhood home – I wanna sleep here one last time. The kitchen stove still works - his eyes twinkled.

-I will make the waffles that you like so much- said Starla-but you have to share the news you’re your father-

-Mom! -

-Zachary ! -

-You guys have been married  for thirty years, and made eachother happy and now you can not share even a breakfast together? -

The woman bit her lower lip. She was thinking.

-If it's fine for your father , then it's ok- she finally said.

The young man hugged her again to thank her. He was sure she knew when that house meant to all of them and wanted to give her a fitting goodbye.

- Are you sure you didn't have anything else to do? You were supposed to go to Ashley's wedding this weekend-

-Ash will understand- zac said firmly - I'm going to tell dad and Dylan that we are stay here tonight-.

  Vanessa sighed into the darkness of the room and read over and over again the message that Ashley Tisdale, her best friend, had sent her.

“Nessa, I 'm sorry . Kiss Austin for me. Call me for anything. "

That was Ashley. Vanessa adored her: even days before from her marriage to Chris, her best friend had think to herself for a second.

The girl didn't type a return answer, it wouldn't make sense. It was already three in the morning and she would call Ashley tomorrow so she could talk to her calmly. Austin's soft snore indicated that he had finally fallen asleep. Vanessa touched her boyfriend's blond hair - he looked so peaceful while he was sleeping. Austin seemed to be able to finally rest only when he slept: his mother Lori's condition had worsened further and she had been rushed to hospital. When doctors had informed them that she probably would not past the night, Austin had ended in a selective mutism. He had watched her mother suffer through months of cancer and now he was not saying that all the treatments, the money spent and the hours spent at her side were useless? That all the prayers they had addressed to God had not been heard?

Vanessa was his rock. From the exact moment she arrived the diagnosis she had done the impossible to stay close to her fiance. It had calmed him, comforted him. And so she had done that evening too, cradling him in her arms to make him fall asleep.

She wasn't ready to lose Lori either: she had grown a bond with the woman during those three years she had spent with Austin, she wasn't ready to give up on her. Not when the rest of the world kept spinning, when the rest of the people continued to live as if nothing had happened. Vanessa had always believed that if she behaved well, if she proved to God that she was a good person , then nothing bad could ever happen to her in life. Or at least nothing catastrophic. Thinking back it was a purely childish thought, but until then no event had affected that worldview. Yet in the last year she had had to change her mind. She had discovered that perhaps God did not listen to the prayers of everybody , perhaps God did not exist at all or perhaps he was just an old sadist who played to move his pieces at will on a large chessboard. There was no other possible explanation. God had blessed her with talent, fame and a peaceful family life. Maybe he had given her too much. Sometimes the girl thought she was the cause of Austin's suffering. He was too perfect for her. The Butler family was perfect and now Lori was paying the price for all that God had given to Vanessa. If Austin had known what she really thought he probably would have thought that she was crazy, but there was nothing that Vanessa could do about it.

Promise me  that you'll take care of him.

Those were the last words Lori had said to her three days ago . She hadn't said them with the knowledge that they would be the last words she would ever say to her future daughter in law but they were. And now Vanessa feel that she is responsible for Austin's happiness. Lori had been her son's chosen one for years and now she was gone forever. It was up to Vanessa, therefore, to try to make her boyfriend's life as normal as possible.

The girl sighed heavily as she retraced the events of the previous days. It was all still confused. Lori's funeral had only taken place that same afternoon. The memory, however, was blurred in the girl's mind and seemed to belong to centuries ago. Lori had wanted to die in the hospital in Los Angeles, where she had spent the last few weeks of her life. The funeral ceremony therefore took place in Los Angeles, where the woman's body was cremated. If she closed her eyes, Vanessa could clearly see the broken face of Austin's father and sister, she could feel her boyfriend's tight grip during the eulogy. She hadn't cried at the funeral, she hadn't had the strength. She heard Austin move and mutter something in his sleep and so Vanessa’s gaze fall on the alarm clock: three in the morning. She might as well try to sleep for at least a couple of hours. In the morning, Austin's family would take Lori's ashes home to their family home in Anaheim . Austin needs her. He would need all the affection he could get. The girl switch off the cell, laid her head on the pillow and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

#🤍🤍🤍 #submission #fanfiction

[iamtotallycool]

Waltz of the Flores Rose

I guess this can be considered my contribution to Pride Month 2020 since this is a story between with the ever charming Naomi AND the genderbent Estefania Flores (definitely inspired by @missnobodynobodius genderbend pictures she did earlier!) 

This was actually a lot of fun to write and actually very easy to write for that I might have to come back to this combo later! I will officially post this later when it's not super late my time :)

The music room had always been Estefania Flores's sanctuary. 

It's where she liked to go to clear her head or even when she needed to think. Even though she had her own Chancellor's office or even when this room had held nothing but junk during Shuriki's reign, it had always brought her peace and solace to be able to sit in one of the plush chairs and feel the sun warm her tan skin.

The difference between back then and now, however, was that more people tended to barge in whenever they pleased and break the tranquil spell. This time happened to be Miss Naomi Turner. Or, Lady Naomi Turner, Advisor to Queen Elena, would be her more official title, and was made more official by the new dress and sash that she wore.

"What's got you with such a worried brow between your eyes, Lady Chancellor?" Naomi asked as she opted to hop up and sit on the side table beside Estefania, even though there was a perfectly good empty chair. "I mean, besides the usual things that give you a sour look."

Estefania promptly stuck her nose up at the Advisor's comment and chose to not grace her with a response.

"If it's about the napkins, don't worry, I got them ordered last week," Naomi continued confidently as she crossed her legs in an unladylike manner. "Same with the floral arrangement and chocolate."

"It's not that, I mean, it was partially that, but I'm more concerned with Isabel's court right now," Estefania said as she turned her attention back to the sheet of parchment.

"Because she didn't follow tradition of picking seven boys and seven girls? She already has a lot more people for her court than I did."

"This is true. However, it's also an odd number, there are more girls than there are boys." She conceded in passing the paper to Naomi as she still had no solution. 

Isabel had been very certain in her pick of her court. She had chosen to keep her court to only people that already resided in Avalor since she was too busy with her college studies and upcoming exams to be able to drop everything to entertain and concede to the every whim of visiting Royals.

And the chosen courtiers hadn't been too unreasonable, but it was when it came to the couples for the waltz that they had hit a real snag. Elena and Mateo were an easy pair, given that they were already courting. Gabe offered to be Isa's partner, and he did have experience now being a royal dance partner, so it wasn't hard to argue that. So this left only Quique as the last boy, with Cristina, Amara, Tomiko, Naomi, and Estefania partner-less.

Even when the older woman had offered to not be on the Court, it still wouldn't fix the problem. Plus, she couldn't say no to those big, brown, puppy dog eyes Isa always knew when to use when she wanted to get her way with her cousin.

"Hmmmm," Naomi thought out loud, tapping her chin with her own pen that she had pulled from her dress pocket. "Well, it would probably be best to have Quique and Amara be partners since they're the same height. And then we can have Tomiko and Cristina be partners for similar reasons. Plus, Tomiko may be enthusiastic and...a lot, but she is a good student and can learn the dance we drew up for Cristina."

"But they're both woman."

"Yeah? So?" Naomi furrowed her eyebrows. "You don't have a problem with two woman being together?"

"Oh, don't twist my words around, you know I don't." Estefania tapped her black boot heel softly in annoyance. "But this is about tradition. Most Avaloran dances were designed with men and women pairs."

"Than maybe maybe it's time to shake it up." Naomi jumped off the table and smoothed out her voluminous blue and white floral dress skirt.

"You're getting just as bad as Elena when it comes to puns."

"No one could be as bad as Elena!" Naomi exclaimed with a snort. "Besides, I'm just stating the facts that we're going to have two sets of only women pairs in order to make this work."

"Are you also insinuating that we should be dance partners as well?"

"Of course, we were dance partners for my quiencerea. So we know we can dance together."

"Practice dance partners." Estefania said with as much emphasis as she could muster into her tone.

"Well, even so, this isn't about us, it's about Isa," Naomi said, placing a hand on her hip. "And if she doesn't have a problem with it, than we better start rehearsing."

"Well that's--I mean it'll look--" Estefania sighed and moved to stand and smooth out her own sleek maroon velvet skirts. "You're right."

Naomi tried to not look too pleased, but she probably couldn't help it. It's not often the Chancellor admitted defeat. Naomi's smug expression didn't change at all as she then offered out her hand.

Estefania lifted up a eyebrow skeptically. "You can lead a dance?" 

Naomi shrugged. "My mom has taught me a few moves recently." 

That didn't really comfort her at all as she continued to stare at the younger woman's still outstretched hand. 

Naomi then let out an exasperated sigh at Estefania's indifferent attitude and decided to take action herself. Her hand moved to down to snake around Estefania's waist and pull them together. 

Estefania couldn't help but sputter slightly as they now stood toe-to-toe, which only made the smile on Naomi's lips stretch wider.

The Chancellor quickly composed herself as she placed a hand on Naomi's shoulder as Naomi herself placed the hand that was still on her waist in the appropriate position. Estefania quickly realized how long it had been since someone had rested their hand there as she felt the warmth of Naomi's skin through her dress.

"There's no one to play music here," She then argued weakly, still wondering how ridiculous it would look if someone came into them doing this. Especially with how much she towered over the petite and younger woman.

"We did it so many times before that I'm confident we both know how it goes regardless." Naomi took a hold of Estefania's hand. "We're going to dance right now, so you might as well just except it."

With only a quick nod as a warning, Naomi moved into the first step of the dance. Luckily Estefania had her many years of Royal Training that she instantly matched her set pace.

After a few stiff moments, the Chancellor allowed herself to relax and trust herself a little more into her partner as Naomi proved that she really knew what she was doing. Naomi must have sensed this change as she then looked up at her through her lashes in a way that made Estefania's throat feel a little dry. 

She tried to quickly brush it off though, she was far too old and wiser to be caught up in silly girl crushes like she had in her youth on dashing heroes and enchanting princesses.

"See, you still got the fancy feet, Lady Chancellor." Naomi commented as she drew out Estefania for a graceful wide sweep. "You must have danced all the time." She caught herself. "You know, when you were younger at balls with your family. Since, isn't that what the uber elite royals do all the time?"

Estefania rolled her eyes, because Naomi most certainly knew that's not what they did do all the time. "We certainly did attend many Royal functions, more so than you could possible ever dream of. And I'll have you know I never danced as much as Elena did."

"Why?" Naomi asked, retightening her grip on Estefania's waist and leaning closer in. One or both of them would have to forgo heavy ruffles on their dress's in order for them to contain the necessary close distance.

"I grew tall at a very young age, taller than most boys. And even taller than most men, which some Kings did not find very find attractive." She said in a bitter tone, even though not all of them had been like that...but definitely an overwhelming had been that it was hard to forget. "So, for the most part, unless it was required in some way or my abuelo did it, I mostly was on the side."

"They shouldn't have been like that. They're cowards for being like that," Naomi said harshly, obvious venom in her tone.

Estefania colored slightly, realizing what she had just said to Naomi. She had tried to say that part as nonchalantly as possible, but it clearly hadn't worked.

 How was it though that this girl, or she guessed woman by this point, was always around to hear some of her darkest fears and greatest secrets? And it only made Estefania feel more embarrassed that Naomi always cared so much in response.

"Yes, well, it was a long time ago. And I had always been a skilled dancer, so I never needed the practice," She said, breaking form a little bit to tuck a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "And it allowed me to start talking to Royals and hearing all the rumors and gossip. Gave me an early start to what I needed to know when I unexpectedly became Chancellor."

"Still, despite you being a nag and a little prissy all the time." The older woman's lip curled in slight distain, but Naomi ignored this look as she genuinely then said "You are still a very beautiful and charming woman that they didn't know what they were missing." 

Estefania felt her heart practically leap to her throat before feeling ridiculous. She hadn't cultivated years of being known as the Flores Fire Red Rose in court to be thrown off by pretty comments without being able to throw back a few of her own.

Estefania straightened up her posture and tossed her long and full hair over her shoulder in a way that showed off her neck and reinvigorated the scent of her perfume. She hooded her eyelids just enough to be alluring and smirked.

"I see that your own charm has improved greatly, Miss Turner. One would even consider it being wholly natural and swoon worthy. I know I have already been enticed several times before."

Naomi's fair skin betrayed her as an adorable pink blush dusted her cheeks and even the very tips of her ears. It also caused her to stumble in her step and they ended up knocking lightly into the harp that was on the other side of the room.

Without any music, they two woman had just kept dancing and dancing until they had unexpectedly crossed the entire room with no sense of needing to stop. Perhaps some part of Estefania hadn't wanted to stop.

Naomi cleared her throat. "Well, it's a good thing there will be no talking during the actual waltz so you don't have an opportunity to purposefully mess me up and create a disaster."

Estefania scoffed. "I would think someone confident in their skills should be able to do both flawlessly."

"You don't want to take anything away from the birthday girl, now do you, Lady Chancellor?" Naomi asked as she took a step forward so that she had to crane up neck up more to look at Estefania directly in the eyes.

Estefania made sure to keep focus on those bright blue eyes, and not the more prominent curve of Naomi's collarbone that she could see from this angle. "I suppose so."

Naomi smiled. "Though, we have a few more dance sessions to spare in order to make sure we get it perfect."

The Chancellor almost unconsciously leaned her head down slightly so that her hair fell down and curtained her face. "Than I look forward to fully testing the depth of your skill and charm, Miss Turner."

Just when Estefania thought she had won this exchange with that remark, Naomi lifted up their clasped hands and placed a feather light kiss to her knuckles. Filling the woman with something she had not sensed in a long time.

Pure infatuation.

#naomi turner #esteban flores #sort of #genderbend #esteomi #pride month #lgbtq

[leah-halliwell92]

Doesn’t Really Matter

Summary: Taylor Mae Miller has been friends with Adam since they were in high school and a musician in he own right and has known Queen for just about the same time he’s been touring with them. Their bond strong and growing ever stronger, Mae decides to move across the pond not only to be closer to her new found friends but to get away from her volatile and toxic relationship thrust on her by her mother. Will her new found family be enough to reassure her that she is loved?

Chapter 2

“Are you joking?” Roger asked incredulously.

Adam couldn’t hold it anymore and broke into a fit of laughter.

Taylor gave the men a knowing look hand to her mouth to keep from laughing, and nodded. 

“Like I said,” she said trying to hold back her laughter, “My grandparents are hippies and music junkies!”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Roger asked still not getting it.

“It means they were going to name me something out of the cosmos or after one or more of their favorite singers or bands,” she said as she couldn’t hold bacon her laughing anymore.

Brian nodded in understanding before shaking his head with a warm laugh of his own.

“She was names after her grandmother’s favorites Roger,” Adam as he came to.

That’s when the penny fell and Roger’s eyes widened in realization.

“She named you after your favorites, huh,” he said boyish grin appearing on his face.

“And there’s the ego boost,” Brian says jokingly.

“Well I never,” Roger said faking outrage.

You all share a laugh and continue eating your food when Adam stands with a quiet ‘excuse me’ when his phone goes off.

“Why so glum Liz Taylor?” Mae asked noticing the serious look on Roger’s face.

“Your mother...”

“Is not here,” she says voice going hard, “And as Adam told me on the way here...she is not here to tell me what or who to do.”

“NO boys,” Brian and Roger said in unison causing the wives to laugh and Mae to shrug and then a chuckle when Brian added, “Or girls.”

“Still,” she said voice somber., “It isn’t like she’s a mum mum to me, she’s my mother she birthed but that is as far as the connection goes. She was all for my brothers but when it came to her only daughter she saw a bargaining chip.”

“Jesse and Jonah tried,” she said with a shrug, “Sometimes it would work and other times it would blow up in our faces.”

“Sounds like a traditionalist in the worst possible way,” Roger said as he tossed the now empty plates into the food bag to be disposed of later.

Taylor nodded and sighed.

Adam stepped back into the room an annoyed look on his face.

“Everything ok?” Taylor asked.

“Yea,” he said with a roll of his eyes making his sarcasm more than a little evident, “Manager needs me to go back to go over scheduling to make sure my tour and our tour don’t over lap.”

You nodded and rolled your eyes. Those schedules had been done for ages. And have been checked and double checked that everything was where it’s suppose to be.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Brian said with a grin.

“Same, but dude’s wanting to check makes me think that he thinks he did something wrong,” he said annoyed before going to Taylor and pulling her into a hug, “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Taylor nodded and went to get the mattress when and incredulous Roger said, “Wait...she’s spending the nigh here? Alone?”

“I was going to come back after my meeting,” Adam said before he reached the front door.

“You know as well as we do that scheduling revision is going to take most if not all night,” Roger said knowingly, “She’ll be staying with me.”

“Um...you have a thing in London remember?” Sarina said withholding a laugh after sharing a look with Anita the younger woman knowing very well that Rog had a couple of errands to run in London.

“And I have to study for a play will be showing in two weeks,” Anita said gently.

“I can give you the keys to my place Mae,” Adam said about to take said keys out.

“And stay there alone?” Roger said not liking the sound of that one bit.

Taylor rolled her eyes and said, “I feel like a rope...”

Sarina and Anita laughed at that and nodded.

“Why not a hotel?” Taylor said with a shrug.

“You have a home here little Mae,” Roger said with approaching her, “Not one but a few if Brian and Anita have anything to say about it.”

“It’s settled then,” Brian said beamingly.

“What?” Roger said clearly confused.

“Mae will be staying with me,” Brian said trying to not look smug at the suggestion, “You and Adam will be busy in London, the girls will be preparing for their performances leaving me to my lonesome.”

Roger looked at Brian in disbelief. 

“My best mate just swindled me out of time with my namesake,” Roger said in disbelief.

“You forget thought Roger,” Mae said with a smirk, “I am Little Mae.”

“Hush you,” he said ruffling her hair causing her to laugh.

“I’ll put her stuff in your car then,” Adam said and left to do just that.

Taylor made her way to Brian who pulled her into a warm hug.

“You maybe Little Mae–” Roger began in a sure sign of that famous Taylor tempter.

“She’s got two daddies to take care of her,” Sarina cut in as she laughed at her husband’s antics, “Which means, she’s got family here.”

“More family than I ever thought I would,” Taylor said eyes glued to the ground.

Brian gave her a reassuring squeeze and said, “But family none the less.”

Taylor smiled at that and nodded. It was going take a bit to get used to being a a part of a stable family. But she was sure it was going to be a hell of a lot better than being on her own.

That settled, Adam said his goodbyes to everyone and left to kick his manager in the pants and see what the issues where with the schedule, Sarina left to get her bag from the trunk of their car and head to the airport to her own filming destination and Anita opted to take a cab to the theater to do her study.

“I will probably be back late but I will see you both in the morning,” Anita said bidding Taylor and Brian good bye with a hug and kiss.

“And you...” she said giving Roger a hug, “Behave.”

“I always behave!” He huffed indignantly.

Taylor and Brian laughed at that before Brian said, “Well since lunch is over and done with let’s go get you settled in.”

Taylor nodded and followed after the men.

“Before we head in why not go for tea?” Roger said a grin on his face.

“You really want to treat me to something don’t you,” Taylor asked rhetorically.

“Well...what is a mother supposed to do?” He said a cheeky grin.

Brian shook his head at them but offered Taylor his arm, ever the gentleman.

Together the trio took a stroll around the area until the found a quaint little tea shop walking distance away from her flat.

And as promised, Roger treated her to tea. The fact that Brian was there to also enjoy the fruits of his labor is another thing entirely.

“How are things with Jonah?” Brian asks as he serves the tea.

“Things with him have always been good,” Taylor said with a grin, “But better now that he mentioned settling down.”

“Oh?” 

“Yea, he applied to be honorably discharged. Said something about making an honest woman out of Clair once and for all,” Taylor laughed at that and said, “I think he’s finally going to propose!”

The men gave a quiet cheer at the news.

“About time too! Clair’s been waiting for him to propose since she met him his senior year in school,” Taylor said with a laugh remember the day her best friend met her oldest brother.

“And him?” Roger asked curiously.

“He needed time to grow and mature away from our mother. I think the army did that for him,” she said with a sigh and a gentle grin, “Jesse’s another story though...he’s always been my mother’s baby. The one to always kiss her ass when she decided something needed to go one way or another, the one to back her up when she decided I needed to follow what she said because and I quote, ‘I am your mother. I birthed you raised and am raising you so the least you could do is acknowledge the fact that I know what is best for you’.”

The men bristled at that as they pieced together more of the puzzle that is Taylor’s life and the people within it.

“And you're dad?” Roger asked carefully.

Taylor grinned sadly and said, “Dad passed away a little over two months ago.”

The men gapped at that.

“Pancreatic cancer,” she said as she played with the teacup that is on the table, “And before you say anything about not having told you earlier...I didn’t do it out of spite. I really didn't know how to say it, how to say he’s...he’s...”

Brian pulled her on his side as she breaks down.

“We cremated him as per his request, service is next week in my gran’s Irish home,” she said when she calmed down some. 

Roger sat in shock at the information and downed what was left in his cup no wishing it had something bit stronger in it.

“I think it’s time to take her home,” Brian said as he stood and helped her stand up as well.

Roger nodded and stood going to pay for their tea.

Brian walked her to the bathroom hall where she went to the laddie’s and make herself presentable. It wouldn’t do for the paparazzi to see her looking like they kicked her puppy.

Now looking more presentable, they trio made their way to the flat where they Roger left them with warm hugs and a kiss to Taylor’s forehead.

Brian helped her into the car and made his way into town making a bee line to Save Me.

“Wait here dear,” Brian said as he got out of the car and went into the facility.

Taylor waited brow furrowed in curiosity and confusion as to what the man could possibly be planning.

A little bit later Brian came back a satisfied smile on his face. 

“Tomorrow you and I are going to be busy,” he said as he drove out.

“Do I want to know?” She asked with a small smile.

“Nope,” he said with a grin, “You’ll just have to wait and find out.”

~//~

If you wanna be tagged to my Queen/Borhap forever list tell me! Feedback is appreciated!!

Tag List:  @queenattheopera, @brianandthemays, @theborhapboysawakenedmywhatever, @ramibaby, @captain--americanna, @awkwardangelshezza, @avengerraven1023, @danamaleksworld, @pastywhiteperson, @readinghorn, @i-was-born-like-this, @redspecialstardust, @reedusteinrambles, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @readinghorn, @subbysharkbabe, @capan-devereaux, @bowieandqueen11, @bellamy1998, @reedusteinrambles, @mazzello-lee-jones-malek, @sincereleygmg, @bleu-jean-baby, @brian-mayonnaise, @0hour9am, @toomuchtellyneck, @kimanne723, @kyleetheeditor, @glamrockmonarch, @rawyld, @queensdivas

#brian may #roger taylor #adam lambert #sarina taylor #anita dobson

[anotheronechicagobog]

Back In Chicago Part 2 Warnings: swearing

Written by @anotheronechicagobog

You’d stayed with your moms for a couple of nights, but things were pretty crowded because they’d decided to foster a set of twins who’d been in the system since birth. They had physical, mental, and emotional health problems that they didn’t deserve and needed attention. So, until you had your life sorted out, you were living with your dad. It had its perks, you got to make up for lost time, meet- and hear- his girlfriend April Sexton. She was wonderful, a strong intelligent woman who loved your dad dearly. Initially, she had been nervous around you, trying to find ways to get you to approve of her. After weeks of stuttering, nervous faces at breakfast, and jumping apart whenever you entered the room, you’d had enough. “Hey, April, can I talk to you?” She froze. The look on her face was one of sheer terror and you didn’t quite know how to feel about causing her to have that reaction. On the one hand, it meant that I meant a lot to my dad, on the other hand, I felt so damn awful that she looked like I had just brutally murdered a litter of puppies in front of her. “Is everything alright? Is there anything that I can do to-”

“Okay, that’s it. I am sick of this. You look terrified of me all the time! Everyone talks about how amazing and badass you are and I don’t get to see that side of you-”

“Y/N-”

“No. Let me finish. You are amazing. You make my dad so happy, and that’s all that I want for him. I want to get to know you too so that I can truly feel like you are apart of the family.”

“Really? You approve of me dating your dad? I mean, I’m only a few years older than you and a lot younger than your dad, I mean, isn’t it weird for you?”

“Ha, I’m a prom night baby who grew up with two moms, a military dad, and a gender-fluid bisexual grandma, I grew up with ‘strange’ and I love it, just like I’ll love my brother or sister. Plus, like I said, as long as dad’s happy so am I. And as long as you’re not evil, like a serial killer or something.”

“Haha, no, definitely not a serial killer. But that is a huge relief. I really do love your dad so much. There, uh, is something that I need to tell you though. I’m pregnant.”

“Wow, really? That’s great! How are you feeling?”

“You’re okay with this?”

“My moms are thinking about adopting the twins, who are in their pre-teens. Sure there’s a large age gap between me the twins, and your baby, but that’s ok. I’ll still get to be a big sister, and since I’m so much older, they can’t take my stuff.” I chuckled, I’d heard from friends that having sisters around your age was rough, so I was glad that I wasn’t having to deal with that. April gave a weak smile, but she still looked nervous, I stepped forward and gave her a hug. “I want you to know that I’m here for you. I’ll support and help with whatever you want and need. Probably starting with moving out. I’ve already found an apartment and a job, I’m moving out this week, I told dad earlier. So, I can get out of your hair and come over to help when needed.”

 “What? You can stay longer Y/N, your dad’s really enjoyed having you here, I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave.”

“I don’t, it’s just that I’m gonna need some space, and you’re gonna need the guest room for the baby. Like I said, I’ll come over if you need me. The job I’ve taken is in a private practice, so there are more regular hours. Why don’t we go out for lunch, just the two of us? To hang out and get to know each other better.”

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ve been craving ravioli like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Ha, I know just the place.”

You and April were sitting in your favourite Italian place, dipping bread into oil after ordering. “This is how you know that an Italian place is good, isn’t it? When they give you bread and fancy oil on a small plate.”

“Yeah, I guess. How far along are you, April?”

“Three months.”

“Wow, how are you feeling?”

“Tired, sore and nauseous. Just how you’d expect any pregnant woman to feel, I guess.”

“Not that there was anything wrong with you telling me, but why didn’t my dad do it?”

“He’s been a nervous wreck, didn’t know how you were going to react. You mean a lot to him, a lot more than he lets on. You guys had spent so long not communicating, and he’s just afraid to lose that. He loves you so much.”

“He loves you too, you know. He talks about you all the time, he lights up whenever you walk into a room, and I know that he thinks you’re incredibly intelligent and admires that about you. I am so happy for both of you.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I should be thanking you. My dad has always been kind of alone, and I worried a lot about him growing up because of it. It’s because he’s got this idea in his head that he isn’t good enough. He ends up pushing people away and sometimes acts like a douche, which he told me he acted like that towards you. Which is part of why I like you, you love each other, and when my dad shoves his head up his ass, you don’t run, or sympathize, you tell him to cut the crap and communicate the issue properly so that it can be appropriately dealt with.” April’s eyes were misting over, and she put her hand over her mouth. You reached out and grabbed her other hand, squeezing gently. Taking a deep breath, April moved her hand and smiled. “Alright ladies, here’s your food. Now, who had the ravioli?” April giggled and raised her hand sheepishly. Food in front of you, the conversation turned to something lighter.

 “I’ve been catching up on the ‘Fantastic Beasts’ books, I’d been busy so I just hadn’t read any of them, but they’re really good.”

“We had this one patient in ED who came in because he thought his arm was severed when really it just got caught in his shirt when he tried to get dressed after getting completely wasted and streaking through a park.”

“Despite having lived in Chicago basically my whole life, I’d never been to the aquarium. So a couple of days ago Jay and I went and there was this-”

“Wait, you went on a date with Detective Jay Halstead and you’re only bringing this up now?”

“It wasn’t a date. It was just us hanging out.”

“Ha! You two ‘just hanging out’! That’s gold, you two have so much chemistry. Other nurses and doctors were talking about it the entire time you guys were in your room together. Will, Jay’s brother, was excited for both of you, but Ethan spent two days fuming because of it! He’s still grumpy about it with Will. Are you hanging out with him anytime soon?”

“Later today, when I will move all of my stuff into my new apartment.”

“... I’m sorry, what? He’s helping you move? Today? Don’t you think that’s moving a little fast?”

“I told you, we’re not dating. He has a truck and I need a way to move all of my stuff. We get along and stuff, so it just seemed like a good idea. My dad’s going to flip his lid, isn’t he?”

“He definitely is, but I’ll see if I can help you to minimize it.”

“Thanks. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“I don’t think that there is anything you could do to make your dad disappointed in you.” You sighed and gave April a weak smile, as thanks for her encouraging words.

When your dad got home from work, the living room was hosting your boxes and bags. When you were going abroad you decided to do a major purge of things and clothes, and you didn’t have any furniture, so all there was to move were two suitcases, a large hiking backpack, and four boxes. “Hey, what’s going on, are you moving into the new place today? You know that you can stay longer, right?”

“Yeah, I know, dad, but I want my space, plus you’ll need more room with a baby on the way.”

“April told you? I’m so sorry-”

“For what? Giving me a younger sibling to love? C’mon dad, I’m really happy for you, and April is amazing. I’m moving out because I’m an adult and more than capable of taking care of myself, besides, the place I’m moving to is a ten-minute walk, we’ll still be able to see each other. What if we have family dinners or game nights or something?”

“That sounds like a great idea. Your new roommate is coming to help you move, right? And speaking of, why aren’t you living on your own?”

“Well, it’s cheaper for one, also, the apartment was her place first so, yeah. So, I kinda have to live with her if I want to live in the amazing apartment. And she is going to help me unpack, but someone else is helping me move. He should be here soon.”

“Is your roommate anyone I know?” 

 “Yes. I’m moving in with Sylvie Brett.”

“And the ‘he’ helping ypu move, do I know him?” You could tell from the look in his eye that he already had an idea of who he might be, but wanted to be wrong. Your dad took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jay Halstead”

 “Why? Why him?”

“He has a truck and we get along.”

“What do you mean you ‘get along’, have you been seeing him?”

“Not romantically, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m worried about! The way you guys were interacting... I saw how you looked at each other. If you wanted to I think you two could really be something.”

“Then why are you so against it?”

“Well, I could say that it’s because he’s a cop and you’ll either be in danger because of him. Or you’ll be worrying about him day and night. Or it could be because he is still in love with the ex who just up and left him. Or I could be honest and say that I’m not ready for this. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much of your life sometimes and I just want to be around you more. I just realized that you’re attracted to men and someday I won’t be the most important man in your life. I don’t want that day to come ever, honestly, but, if it has to happen, can it not be so soon?”

“That’s not how life works, dad. And like I said, I’m moving really close by and we can start family nights. Just... please don’t hate me.” He sighed. “I could never hate you. Ever. I love you so much.” You clung to each other, neither wanting to let go. You both stood there for several minutes when your phone pinged from on top of a box. You both separated, your dad kissing your hair. You checked your phone. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, he’s downstairs.”

“I’ll buzz him up.” It was only a minute or so before you heard a knock on the door. Your dad moved from the wall he was leaning on, and sighed, taking one last look at you before answering the door. “Detective Halstead.”

“Dr. Choi.” Your dad was still blocking the doorway, so that Jay couldn’t get in. “Dad?” He sighed again. “Come on in.” He moved out of the doorway, letting Jay inside. He went straight for you pulling you into an embrace. “Hey, how are you? Are you ready to move?” You looked at your dad, who had a look of acceptance in his eyes. You smiled. “Yes. I am.”

#One Chicago #Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #chicago med #ethan choi #ethan choi x reader #april sexton #ethan choi x april sexton #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #will halstead

[imaginesmai]

Hvitserk Crush (AU) 2

So, here is the second part! I hope you like it! I’m so in love with this idea I might make something more. Not another part, just some one shot with this Hvitserk as the protagonist. What do you think?

Plot: Hvitserk is like a disney prince; funny, beautiful, kind... But you are not sure you are his princess.

Life with Hvitserk turned out to be perfect. You still lived with Ubbe, but you spent more time at Hvitserk’s apartment than at your own. Working in the bar kept you from being with him as much as you would want to and, even if at first you thought it would be a problem, Hvitserk was fully supportive and went to visit you whenever he could. Torvi and Ubbe were getting a little tired of your fuck-wherever-we-can way of life; if you thought they were bad before, now you were ten time worse. But not everything was a fairy tale and, although he didn’t do any wrong, a little fact was keeping you awake at nights.

-          It’s been nearly half a year, Torvi. -you complained to her. Both of you were laying in the sofa while Ubbe was trying to finish a university project with Alfred, a guy form his class.

-          He should have said something, I know. -Torvi agreed. -Maybe he is just waiting for the perfect time?

-          At this rate I will have his children first.

-          Can I say something? -Ubbe tried. He had been banned from the conversation you were having when he suggested you were overreacting. Alfred had to tuck under the desk to avoid your flying shoe.

-          No. -Torvi said.

-          You should just make out, I feel already out of this relationship. -Ubbe whispered.

-          I heard you Ubbe. -you said. -Anyway, how do I make him ask me?

-          Making him jealous. -Torvi looked at you in the eye, leaning forwards. -You hear me, you go to the tattoo salon, get the other guy, Magnus, to-

-          Are you hearing yourselves? -Ubbe scoffed, turning towards the sofa. -That’s my brother you are talking about.

-          Babe, you don’t understand. -Torvi smiled sweetly at her boyfriend. How you wished to have a partner like her. -It’s a severe situation. Level eight from ten probably.

-          An eight-what? What are you talking about? Alfred, help me.

-          I don’t know, man. -he laughed. -We gays don’t have that problem.

The problem wouldn’t be half as bad if you weren’t the paranoid shit you were. It all started two months ago, when you met Thora, a friend of Hvitserk. She was beautiful, cute and nice, you just couldn’t hate her. You were with Torvi when he introduced her to you. He told her, literally, “this is Y/N, my friend”. Friends. You looked at Torvi with wide eyes, but he didn’t notice it. Sure, he kissed you in front of her, he hold you hand that night and even sat you in his lap. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder if, for him, whatever you had was just an open relationship, a fuckbuddy one, or you were just spending time with each other.

-          Just ask him yourself. -Ubbe said before asking Alfred something about the world war. -He isn’t doing it on purpose. Just thinks you guys are already a couple, without labels.

-          That’s not how it works, Ubbe. -you said, plopping your head down. -I need to see that he wants me to be his girlfriend. That way I can know that he is mine and not fucking any other girl.

-          He is not- -Ubbe started but decided against it after a second. It was pointless.

You kept talking with Torvi for a while, and the boys eventually left. That night you were going out with Hvitserk again. Working until late was not cool, but he said he would pick you up at ten and have dinner with you in your break. Little things like that made you think that you were the luckiest woman alive, and sometimes they made you feel bad about thinking of him cheating of you. He was just too good to be true.

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That day’s shift had been horrible. There was a football game or something like that on the TV, so a lot of people came to the bar to see it. One of your co-workers had taken the day off for personal businesses, and the other one was stuck in the kitchen as a cook was missing for some unknown reason. That left you with the new boy, a tall and thin guy who was not older than eighteen years. You didn’t want him to get scared and run away on his first day, so you decided to attend groups while he just took the normal ones. Halfdan wasn’t helping much either; he just sat with a group of his friends and saw the match without helping any of you.

-          Halfdan? -you asked, getting closer to his desk. It was already half past ten, and you could see Hvitserk’s bike outside. -It’s my break time.

-          What? -he asked you over the loud people.

-          I told you when I arrived that I was going to take my break at ten. I’m going out, and someone needs to cover me. -you repeated.

-          Girl, you can’t go now. -he laughed. -There is a lot of people here.

-          But I need a break. -you whispered. You were tired and just wanted to hug Hvitserk.

-          I don’t care girl! If you don’t do you work, you are out.

-          Maybe you can cover me for a while? -you said, already feeling the tears in your eyes. Normally you weren’t that weak, but it was late, you had a shitty day and you were beyond tired.

-          What the fuck did you just say? -Halfdan got angry, and you knew you had screwed up. -Don’t fucking disrespect me, Y/N. I’m your boss.

-          But-

-          You are staying until this place close. -your eyes widened; your shift was supposed to end at twelve today. -And pray that I pay you all the hours. Fucking teenagers, you don’t know that respect is.

You stood there while you caught your breath before turning around. Halfdan was always harsh towards his employees. Once he made your co-worker Lizzie stay after she puked and fainted because of her pregnancy. So you kind of understood that you feeling sad and tired wasn’t at his top priorities. However luck smiled at you when the new guy, Rick you thought was his name, offered you to leave for a few minutes. Halfdan was too busy with the game to notice it, and he could manage the whole bar for ten minutes. The tears you had fought so hard to contain almost spilled out of gratefulness. You kept them at bay and took your coat, walking towards the exit. Hvitserk was sitting in his motorbike, with a lollypop hanging lazily from his gorgeous lips. He was checking something in his phone, and you felt bad that he had waited for so long just to see you.

-          Hey. -he looked up at your voice, and you smiled sweetly at him. -I’m sorry, there is a lot of people and I couldn’t get out earlier.

-          Hey beautiful. -Hvitserk said, putting you between his legs. -Doesn’t matter, now you are with me. There is this-

-          Yeah, about that. -his face fell and his eyes saddened like a kicked puppy. It was not the first time you had to cancel plans with him. -Loonies’ is full, and Halfdan wants me to work until it’s closed.

-          Again? -he scoffed. -Come one, you closed last Wednesday too!

-          I know. -you sighed. He had every right to be angry about it. -Maybe we can have lunch tomorrow?

-          And then you will tell me that you have to finish something at university. -Hvitserk answered. -Or that you are tired and you prefer to stay home.

-          I can’t help that my boss is an ass Hvitty!

-          Just tell him you are feeling ill Y/N. Or that you have an important event.

-          You think I didn’t try that already?

-          I haven’t seen you since weekend. -he said, looking at the ground.

In the six months you had been together, you discovered that Hvitserk was what you could call a touch-starved boy. You learned that, in his house, all his brothers had important jobs or an amazing quality. Bjorn was his father’s favourite, and even if he was in the illegal businesses, they had always been together. Ubbe was the smart one, the only brother who had gone to the university and probably be married and with children when he finish it. Sigurd was pretty famous in the music industry, he had a lot of friends, lovers and fans. And Ivar was a mommy’s boy; his mother only paid attention to him, which left Hvitserk alone most of the time. He was raised without hugs or kisses, just with the fights between brothers and the feeling of being the forgotten one. So you understood that he needed all type of love and affection he could get.

-          I’m sorry. -you told him, meaning that there wasn’t any chance of being together that night.

-          Do you want to take a walk? -he tried again after a silence.

-          I shouldn’t have come, Hvitty. Ryan is making me a favour and he’s covering me now, but I have to go back.

-          Okay. -he said. -I’ll…be at the studio. Call me or Ubbe when you are over.

You pushed yourself up in your toes and kissed his lips softly. It was obvious that he was angry, or disappointed, yet he didn’t deny you the kiss and moved his lips against yours. When you pulled back, he followed your mouth a few inches, not wanting to let go so soon. He sighed once again and, after one last hug, he put his helmet on and left without saying a word.

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If you didn’t know what you had before, after Wednesday night you didn’t know if you were even together anymore. When you finished your shift that night, you called Hvitserk a few times before deciding to try with his brother. Ubbe took you home, and next day your “boyfriend” told you that he was busy with a new design of a tattoo. He didn’t pick you up from university, neither saw or called you in the evening. You were getting worried on Friday morning, not because something could have happened but because he might have cut off whatever you had.

-          It has been a lot of time since we made a movie night. -Ubbe said, helping you to clean up after eating. -Do you have something to do tonight?

-          Not really. You are not going out with Torvi?

-          Nah, she has night shift.

Torvi was a doctor already. While it was nice because she had whole days off, she could be working nonstop for a week.

-          What do you suggest? -you asked. Hvitserk hadn’t told you anything about going out, and Halfdan surprisingly decided to give you a free weekend. -I’m not seeing the Notebook again.

-          First, it’s a wonderful movie who is worthy of all the time we see it. -Ubbe laughed. -And second, no, I was thinking about letting you choose today.

-          Oh god. -you faked surprise. -You are so generous. Are you okay? Are you really going to let me choose?

-          Depends of what, but yeah, I feel generous. -he smiled.

Afternoon passed quickly. You were locked in your room all the time, trying to finish some works and studying for finals. It wasn’t easy to concentrate with your mobile phone in your desk, but you didn’t put it away. A few hours ago you sent Hvitserk a message asking about how he was; he ignored it, just like the five you sent before that one. You were waiting for the green light in your phone to appear, a signal that you had a new message, but you only got a notification from new follower and an email from your teacher. When night came, you decided to turn off your phone to end the suffering and went to the living room. Ubbe was already there, in his goat printed pyjamas and with two bowls full of popcorn.

-          I have to ask, has Torvi seen that? -you said, sitting in the couch and wrapping yourself in a blanket.

-          Of course not. We may have been dating for a long time, but this is the line. -Ubbe put on the TV and searched for Netflix.

-          Then why do you have it? Why do I deserve this punishment?

-          It’s comfy, that’s why. I have taken out of the washing machine your old panties. They look like a granny’s one. -he laughed.

-          I guess we are even. What are you looking for? I thought it was my time to choose.

-          Just wait a second Y/N. -he kept scrolling until your favourite movie was on the screen. -I’m going to press start, I don’t want to hear any excited shouts, you can’t touch me and if you throw something at me because I talk, the film is over.

You knew that Ubbe wasn’t a big fan of action movies, so it was a big surprise when Mad Max came into view. He was being extra nice with you that day, and even if he warned you about over exciting about Tom Hardy, he was making a great effort with you, and you were grateful of that. The film started but you couldn’t concentrate on it. Hvitserk sad face was the only thing that filled your head, and fact that you didn’t know if you were dating before the fight made it worse. What if you lost him? What if he was with other girl in that moment, calling her beautiful and fucking her in his office? The TV switching off caught your attention, and you realised that Ubbe was facing you with a worried look.

-          You didn’t even look at the screen, Y/N. What’s the matter?

-          Nothing. -you sniffled, not noticing the dry silent tears in your cheeks. -Put that back, I was-

-          Is it because of my brother? -Ubbe was met with silence. -Look, I might not be as good in giving advice as Torvi, but I’m his brother. I know him better than what you think. What’s wrong?

-          We…kind of had our first fight on Wednesday. We were going out, and it had been a lot of days without seeing each other. But Halfdan made me work until late, so he came to the bar for nothing and got angry because we don’t have time to meet.

-          He understands that your work is a shit. -Ubbe told you. -Hvitserk is just sad that he can’t see you as much as he wants, not angry.

-          Then why hasn’t he called me since Wednesday? -you didn’t want to cry in front of him. -He could have called me or something. I’m not his girlfriend Ubbe, so he doesn’t have to be loyal. Hvitserk could be with another girl.

-          Look, my brother is complicated. -Ubbe cleaned your cheeks with his thumbs. -He really likes you, and I dare to say that he loves you too. Margarethe really hurt him, so he just needs you to make the first step.

-          Now he doesn’t talk to me. -you moved so that you were hugging Ubbe with the blanket long forgotten in the floor. -How am I supposed to do that?

-          Tomorrow is Saturday, and he opens the tattoo shop. Go and talk to him, I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding. And I like you as my sister in law, so I can kick his ass if it doesn’t go well.

You were grateful for having a friend like Ubbe. He might have horrendous pyjamas, talk too loudly and have an annoying cleaning obsession, but he was with you at your worst, and that was important. The TV was kept off and you two talked about everything, from your problem with Hvitserk to his relationship with Torvi. Ubbe told you that, even if it seemed perfect, it was far from it. Torvi dated his older brother for a while, she was older than your roommate, so he had a hard time asking her out. The first five times she said no, but he was persistent and ended up dating the beautiful doctor. She had rough shifts, handsome partners and a mature mind, and Ubbe fought hard for her. It was normal for couples to have fights, he told you, and you went to bed that night calmer than before.

Next morning you woke up earlier than ever, had coffee and by the time the tattoo shop was going to open you were there. It was a little disappointing that Hvitserk wasn’t there the first one, it was Magnus who was in charge that morning. You supposed he was asleep in his bedroom, but the fear of facing him with someone else didn’t let you check it. Magnus was a nice guy, a little strange and over excited. You had met him on a few occasions, and even if he knew you, it was awkward staying there without saying or doing nothing.

-          Are you…waiting for Hvitserk? -he asked from behind the counter.

-          Why would I be waiting for him? -you didn’t know why you said that, just not wanting to seem desperate for him.

-          I don’t know why would you be here otherwise.

-          Maybe I just wanted to hang out here for a while. -you answered as a girl walked through the door.

-          It’s a tattoo studio, Y/N. -Magnus gave you a weird look. -Are you getting a tattoo?

-          Yes.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn’t like tattoos. Well, Hvitserk ones yes, but not the process of getting one. Magnus looked at you with surprise and apologised. He told you that, after he was done with the girl, you could have your turn. Didn’t people wait months to get a tattoo? It seemed that luck was avoiding you that week. The girl was not old enough to get a tattoo for sure, she had this face where you could see that she still was in high school. Magnus didn’t care, however; he asked her about the money and, when she paid him, got into the black seat. You decided to wait inside of Hvitserk office; you had been there before while he was working, so he decided to give you an extra key for you to wait inside.

It was dark and surprisingly clean, so you rose the blinds and sat in his armchair. In his desk you could see a lot of papers, bills, a notebook with the reservations and some draws of new tattoos. He had the habit of drawing things in the strangest places. There was a beautiful dragon painted in a napkin of the restaurant you went two months ago, and he had drawn a pair of hands in a corner of one of your university papers. You smiled when you saw between all of that a photo of the two of you in the park. It was in summer, when you went with all of his brothers to have a picnic. Hvitserk was hugging you with one arm while with the other he held the camera, smiling, and you were laughing with your eyes closed trying to get away. When you put that back, you noticed a new draw, and your mouth hang open from the surprise. It was a beautiful rose, with a lot of details and with the word luck entwined with its steam.

-          Y/N? -Magnus knocked the door. -The girl is gone. Are you ready?

-          For what? -you asked, your eyes not leaving the beautiful draw.

-          The tattoo. -Magnus said. -Oh, I see.

-          What?

-          I didn’t know that one was for you. -Magnus answered, talking about the one in your hand. -Hvitserk has been working on it for two days.

-          Two days? That’s- but I mean, it’s not for- Magnus cut you.

-          Come on, I already have everything ready.

You doubted for a second before following him. It was a madness, you were going to get tattooed when you just wanted to fix things, and you were going to use a draw that was probably for another person. A girl, you thought. Magnus was sitting in his chair, waiting for you to tell him where did you wanted it. After thinking, you pointed to your forearm and he put some sticky substance in it.

-          Do you like it? -he asked once he draw it in your arm. It wasn’t the final result, just a pen drawing of it in your forearm. You kept looking at it for a while before nodding. -Good. Sit down and wait till I get the pistol ready.

-          Pistol? -you said, not moving. -What the fuck is a pistol?

-          It’s the thing I use to make tattoos Y/N. -he sighed, not feeling like being patience anymore.

-          But it’s going to hurt? -you asked.

-          Probably. Is your first tattoo. You will feel like a million of bee stings, that’s all.

-          That’s all? -you were panicking.

-          It’s not a big deal.

-          It is! You can’t just tell someone that is going to hurt, you are supposed to calm me!

-          Do you even want the tattoo? -Magnus looked at you annoyed.

-          I don’t know-

-          Y/N? -Hvitserk voice came from behind you.

-          Yes. -you said without looking back. -Yes, I want it.

Hvitserk appeared in your sight by the right. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white v-line t-shirt. His hair was messy and his eyes sleepy. You had to prevent yourself from drooling.

-          What are you doing here? And what do you want? -he asked.

-          She is here for the tattoo. -Magnus said, trying to make you sit down on the chair.

-          Are you…getting a tattoo? -Hvitserk asked, feeling a little offended that you had come without calling him and that Magnus was the one doing it.

-          I saw this in your desk. -you said, sitting in the chair and handing him the draw.

-          This one is already requested. -he smiled although you didn’t see it. You knew it, there was another girl. Your words were cut by the sound of the tattoo pistol, suddenly too close to you.

-          Can you just stay the fuck still? -Magnus asked angry.

-          Magnus. -Hvitserk took his arm out of you a little too roughly. -Go somewhere else, I can do this.

-          But you have an appointment in-

-          You handle that. -Hvitserk said, sitting where Magnus was before.

Magnus said something under his breath before leaving towards the counter. Hvitserk took the drawing again and let it rest in the desk beside him. With care, he put your arm out and redid the drawing in your arm. You stayed in silence until he switched on again the pistol.

-          Are you sure? -he asked, trying to calm you down caressing your tight.

-          Yeah. If whoever was getting it is okay with it. -you answered, not looking at his eyes.

-          Won’t care.

It did hurt, but you felt proud of yourself for not letting any tear drop. Hvitserk’s hands were careful and slow, and you watched his face closely while he did it. He had his brown frowned in a cute way, his eyes fixed on the tattoo, the veins on his arms showing because of the effort and his mouth hanging open. You wanted to stop and to kiss the hell out of him, but the little stings in your forearm kept you from that. After half an hour the design was over, and you had a perfect rose tattooed in your arm.

-          It’s beautiful. -you said.

-          I know. It was…Well, I was going to make it to myself. -he laughed, scratching his neck.

-          What? -you looked at him. -It’s not for the girl?

-          What girl? -in that moment, Hvitserk seemed to understand it. -Y/N! I would never cheat on you.

-          It wouldn’t be cheating actually. -you whispered. -I mean, we are not a couple yet, we are just friends.

-          No, you are my girl. -he told you. -My beautiful and amazing girl.

-          You didn’t ask me. -you said, a smile forming in your face.

-          I didn’t think it was necessary. -he sat with you in the black seat, taking your hand in his. -The tattoo… I was thinking of you as I made it. I just, you are most important thing in my life, my luck. Life has not been to kind for me, but with you I have it all. I’m sorry if you thought you I was with another girl. I just want you, beautiful.

-          I’m sorry too. I know I work too much and- what the hell is that on your cheek? -because of the way you were sitting, you could see a purple bruise fading from his cheek, and after looking closely, you found a little bump in his forehead.

Hvitserk laughed and told you about what he had been doing that two days. Apart from designing that beautiful tattoo, he went to your bar in Tuesday morning to talk to your boss. He was angry that you didn’t get free days or enough breaks and ended up with a black eye because he sassed him out. Hvitserk didn’t want you to get angry with him, even if he did get you a free day, so he decided to hide until the bruises healed.

-          You are an idiot. -you smiled, putting your hand in his face and turning it to kiss him.

-          I know. -he took you by the hips and, with care of the tattoo, moved you into his lap. -And you are my beautiful tattooed girlfriend. As your tattoo artist, I recommend you to take care of that thing. So you should probably be as close to me as you can.

-          You don’t think I’m capable of curing it myself? -you laughed.

-          Who is going to kiss it better if you live in your apartment? -you were going to argue but Hvitserk shut you with a kiss. -Listen, we can both live here, we already are. So just move your things here. You don’t have to pay me, and you can quit your shitty job.

-          I can’t live for free, Hvitty.

-          Then be my sexy secretary.

Living with Hvitserk sounded good, better than good. And leaving your job even better. You giggled and kissed him again, not getting tired of his lips. After a while, it was a full make out session, his hands in your ass and yours tugging his hair. You heard Magnus complaining from the other part of the tattoo shop, but you didn’t care. You had your boyfriend between your arms (and legs), a new life ahead of you and a wonderful tattoo in your arm. Yeah, you did have a big crush on the tattoo artist.

Tags:

@supernaturalvikingwhore

#imaginemai #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe #hvitserk #one shot #vikings one shot #torvi #ubbe ragnarson #hvitserk white shirt #hvitserk ragnarson #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk one shot #au #tattoo artist

[austennerdita2533]

How do you think Rory and Jess are celebrating New Year's? Because they're together, right?! I like to think they are by now!

I’d like to believe they’re together, too! In fact, I’d like to believe it so much that I wrote a thing about it…a oneshot, if you will. The damn thing just poured out of me yesterday. I don’t know what happened, but there was no stopping it lol. Sorry not sorry.

(A03) (FF.net)

Happy New Year, my lovely friend! Here’s some post-revival Literati for you to start off 2019 right. 💗

xx Ashlee Bree

Like A Calendar, The Heart Skips Forward

With drunken crowds, ugly tinsel streamers which hang in windows, and snow that’s beginning to stick to the city streets in inches as deterrents, they decide to spend the night in. At home.

The baby’s with her grandparents tonight, probably high on too much sugar and Dr. Seuss. Knowing Luke, he’s likely baby proofing everything again to be safe while Lorelai’s using scary voices so her granddaughter never goes near the stove (but hey, neither did Rory, and she’s turned out fine, hasn’t she?), so she and Jess have plenty of time to themselves. That’s a rarity these days, especially with a toddler in the picture. Alone time seems possible only at ungodly hours in the morning anymore, or during nap time, or in stolen minutes between hectic work schedules. So they’re grateful to Mom and Luke for the offer to babysit every now and again. And they love to do it, to spoil her little angel rotten with small town affection and attention. All the people of Stars Hollow love it, too.

As for Rory and Jess, they enjoy these adult-only nights. It’s a time to revel in intellect, in intimacy.

They love to tune into the timbre of the other’s conversation and fade into each new day talking, listening. It’s exhilarating to them to share new ideas. To uncover deeper feelings in their relationship, but also for them to reach further into the world to figure out what more they can do. Experience. Be.

Parties hold no charms for them this evening. Neither do bars or over-priced concert tickets. Invites from friends go unanswered because they forget to read their messages. They’re more than content to spend the night far away from the end-of-the-year bombast, anyway, with nothing but each other and the hum of this ratty old radiator for company.

They live in an old building so it’s no one’s fault when a malfunction occurs, as one often does.

Luckily, the heat works fine thanks to Jess and his patient tinkering. (Rory never says it out loud, but she swears he’s inherited this from Luke.) Countless hours he spends bent over tools with a concentrative crease in his forehead because their super, Mel, is a slovenly middle-aged coot who binges too much Netflix and refuses to answer knocks on his door from any of his tenants past 9 P.M. Mel likes to blame this incompetence on narcolepsy, but truthfully, it’s because the couch has molded to his prone body by that point, the television playing episode after episode of Frasier or The West Wing, so why trouble himself to move? Better yet, why not put his ringer on silent and ignore all the incoming calls he receives?

(Spoiler alert: he does.)

Encountering one of the Seven Deadly Sins in an actual person still seems a little ridiculous to Rory, borderline unlikely here; especially in a city teeming full of worker bees who supposedly never sleep, but they’ve managed well enough with the radiator on their own. And by well, she means she’s prone to kicking the darn thing any time it roars like it’s a beast straight out of Kevin McCallister’s nightmares in Home Alone.

It’s cozy and comfortable in the apartment tonight, however. Just the way they like it.

That means Rory’s in her favorite pair of slippers, big cumbersome things with floppy ears and shaggy puppy faces curiously similar to Paul Anka’s. Her hair’s loose, fallen past her shoulders, and her arms are stuffed into an oversized Cashmere sweater. Meanwhile, her boyfriend’s walking around barefoot, half-naked in a pair of boxer briefs and a green v-neck tee, his jeans in a ball near the door, seemingly impervious to the December weather.

Is he secretly a werewolf or something, she wonders? An alien? Or just some weirdo who sweats when it’s only sixteen degrees outside, a furnace for girls like her who huddle closer for warmth and never utter a word of complaint?

Music plays low in the background. It’s a playlist curated on one of their phones. Songs from Bjork, the Clash, the Distillers, so many other new and old bands - their favorites - add to the ambiance of this eclectic space they call home.

A half-edited manuscript perches on the edge of the coffee table. Its pages are blotted with black ink and arrowed notes that spill wide into the margins because Jess had spent the morning editing his latest draft, unsatisfied because his characters aren’t where he wants them to be yet. Books litter the kitchen counter. They sit scattered across the floor in organized piles near shelves that are already overflowing, some still stuffed in paper bags because they’d pilfered a thrift shop earlier and now can find nowhere to store the bulky bastards. (Typical for a pair of bookworms who will never have enough reading material between them.)

Appointment reminders and cute little post-it notes stick to the refrigerator in an array of colors. Most are in Rory’s hand, flourished in cursive or silliness, except for the few Jess added by famous authors or musicians because the words moved him; or because he thought they’d start her day with a pretty thought. A smile. A laugh that’d brighten the blue of her eyes.

The living area’s a messy snapshot of their family life with its stench of stale coffee, cologne, and baby lotion. There’s a jacket thrown over the arm of a plush designer sofa and way too many half-empty boxes of Pop Tarts fighting for space in the cupboard with jars of smooth peanut butter and pureed carrots. A laundry basket holds many of the little one’s toys: choo-choo trains, baby dolls, a Batmobile, three sets of ABC blocks, a Wonder Woman figurine, and a stuffed robot aptly named Bee-Doo.

The remote control is always lost somewhere unknown. They might as well attach a key finder around its middle. Or perhaps they should rip up the floorboards instead - a lá the Tell-Tale Heart - because it never takes less than twenty minutes to find the stupid gadget. Either it’s buried under cushions, kicked under miles of folded clothing or prose, or it’s stuffed beneath pillows with spare kernels of popcorn and pens attached to the buttons. Worse than all of that, though, is how the lost-and-found treasure hunt never seems to diminish their scrolling-for-something-to-watch minutes at all. Not in the slightest!

Later, they order takeout from five of their favorite places. It’s too much food for two people to consume in one meal, but who cares? It’s never stopped her or her mother before, so why start now?

There’s pizza, burgers, Thai, Chinese, and one heaping order from that Indian place she’d found around the corner about a month after they’d moved to Brooklyn. It has the most delicious, pungent food so naturally that leaves Jess scrunching his nose and Rory twinkling appreciatively because he’s caved to her doe-eyed pout for once, her belly and heart happy for getting their way.

“See here, mister: victory is mine! I knew you loved me too much to deny me. Admit it,” she says before pecking him sweetly on the cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says after he pays for the delivery and dumps the bags on the table. “Whatever you say.” He remains noncommittal, but the truth shines in his eyes. “Just don’t complain about the cold when I open all the windows. It’ll take weeks to air out the stink in here—weeks. Probably three.”

“Two.”

“Three,” he fires back.

“Two.”

“Okay, two…maybe.” He brushes hair from her face and lets his fingers linger, then smiles her favorite crooked smile. “If we’re damn lucky, anyway.”

After dinner, they eat cheesecake with a bottle of wine. Ice cream with cones is Jess’s dessert preference usually, but they’re out, so they settle for booze and a tasty variation on dairy to help them compile their to-read lists for 2019. He’s on the left side of the sofa, her on the right. Call it a private, serious exercise. Extra points docked for peeking or flirting.

Such a silly idea it is, really, this hoarding then exchanging of lists. Yet it’s a fun way to pass the hours before midnight. Even more fun when they discover the selections that align, and those that don’t, sending them into a tizzy’d discussion about literature and writers the other still needs to know. Pretty soon, another list follows full of recommended titles Jess thinks she should read in the New Year, and vice versa.

Lane had called them a cute agoraphobic couple once, many years ago, if Rory remembers correctly. And by golly, what a label! If only she were here to see them right now, tangled in warmth and limbs and solitude.

She beams at the memory because that’s what she and Jess were back then. It’s what they still are. It’s who they want to be this New Year’s Eve, and the next…and the next…and for every one after for as long as they can live them like this: in love, happy, and together. They’d live this way forever, if only wishes like this could be granted.

“What I wouldn’t give for a Fairy Godmother right now,” she blurts out without thinking, all wrapped up in blankets and curled tight into his chest. “To have a dash of Disney magic or two in my possession would be supercalifragilistic.”

“Why? You don’t need saving.”

“That’s true.”

“So is it Prince Charming you’re after?” Jess asks with a quirk of the eyebrow.

Frowning, “What kind of girl do you take me for? I’m a feminist.”

“You want to freeze the world like Elsa then, huh? Is that it?”

“No.” Tracing his lips with her forefinger, Rory pauses. Reconsiders. “Well, I mean…only if I got to spend all of that time skating across it with you.”

“You mean falling,” Jess mutters.

“Rude! Read my lips: skating.”

He shrugs then. It’s followed by a smirk. “Impossible things are happening every day…or so it goes.”

Giggling, she shoves him, then covers her mouth with her hands.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re quoting Whitney Houston from Roger and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. Who are you?”

“Like you haven’t seen it. Give me a break.”

“Many times,” she says, “but that’s not the point. The point is you’ve given a Gilmore ammunition to mock you for the rest of your life. Hasn’t Luke warned you about this? We’re unapologetic mockers, Mom and I.”

“Jeez, you’re mean,” Jess says with a shake of his head and an affectionate pinch to her side. “I should start calling you Grory.”

“Hey, no fair! I’m no Grinch. No Grendel, either.”

“Pre-coffee, that’s arguable.”

“I demand a re-write,” she says, crossing her arms, determined for her pout to win out for a second time.

“No way,” he replies. “That’s too much work, Green One.”

“Fine. As long as you realize you’re stuck with me regardless.”

“Am I?”

“Aren’t you?” Rory asks like a question that dangles then deflates. Her voice catches with uncertainty. The sound’s worse than the squeal a lobster makes in a boiling pot as she shifts onto her ankles on the sofa to pin him with a wide-eyed look, her heart pounding, mouth drier than Death Valley in the middle of a drought. Color rushes to her cheeks because Jess remains silent before her…because he reaches for the tattered copy of Persuasion that’s perched near his feet so he can underline one of Captain Wentworth’s most famous passages in black ink. I can listen no longer in silence, it reads. You pierce my soul. She knows the quote well. She knows it by heart.

However, it’s not until Jess scribbles down his own line onto the page with some rogue pen he’s found teetering on a shoe with no mate, his hand trembling, the apple in his throat bobbing like it’s been pinched by some invisible force he never saw coming; and it isn’t until he places the book in her lap so she can read what he wrote, that joyful disbelief betrays her. That her tears start flowing and flowing. They cover her face in red-eyed tenderness and devotion.

One look back at him, and she knows he feels the same. The love between them so real and so right, it fills the calendar with fulfillment they no longer wish to live without.

Marry me?

Two words, and the jerk’s a poet. Two words, and it’s only him she sees. Two words, one question, and Rory’s faced with an answer that takes no energy to give at all.

I’d be honored to be the Anne to your Wentworth, she writes back with shaky fingers and a grin so big she can barely see. So yes! Yes! A million times yes!

Wine switches to scotch sooner rather than later after that. Then talking turns to kissing, kissing moves to roving touches without either one of them noticing.

Both hands of the clock reach nearer and nearer to twelve as Rory pauses the movie they weren’t actually watching with a yawn, her sapphire diamond sparkling in the T.V’s muted light. Then she stands to refill their glasses one final time before 2018 ends, slippers scratching against the carpet. Jess wraps his arms around her waist while she pours. He smells of booze and sex and home.

Eyes closed and body rocking, he places a kiss against her arm, her shoulder, her neck, her mouth. He leaves a promise there that tastes of all that awaits them and more.

Together, they watch the snowflakes fall and drift to the fire escape outside their window, a moment of quiet before they pack the rest of the leftovers away so they can head to bed with this year lapsed behind them like another chapter closing. The page turns, and before they know it, December endings become January beginnings. The calendar’s blank and in wait for prose that has yet to be written, both of them looking forward to another 365 days full of learning, laughter, commitment, and so many more family firsts along the way.

#ksfd89 #literati #literati drabbles #literati fanfiction #rory and jess #ashlee bree's writing endeavors #my writing brain has two modes #either 1) blocked; or 2) write 2k in one sitting #there is no in-between

[scornedlove]

Chapter Nineteen

ROBYN

“Hi” I exhaled sharply; I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath. I don’t know why seeing him was such a surprise. I should’ve known he would be here today, after all, he lost his first son too.

“Hi” he replied, stroking the back of his neck. He looked even more stunned than I did, I just couldn’t tell if he thought it was a good thing or bad one. “Can you believe it’s been a year?”

“Feels like it’s been a decade” I replied, moving past him and squatting down to put the flowers I brought in front of the tombstone. My heart was beating ten times faster than it normally does, so I closed my eyes and slowly counted backwards from ten as I stood back up.

“Robyn? Are you okay?” Chris called out placing his hand on my shoulder. That alone sent electricity through my body. I turned around to face him and nodded as we made eye contact. I hadn’t seen him since Christian’s funeral, so my stomach was doing back flips.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you” I admitted so nervously, it came out shaky. The concern on his face disappeared as he took a step back and put both hands in his pockets.

“Why haven’t you called? I don’t care what terms we’re on, you can always call and I will always listen”

“I called a couple of times and Kate answered. I didn’t want to cause any drama between ya’ll so I hung up”

“Kate answered my phone? You must be talking about a long time ago or something”

“Yeah, it was a few months ago…but do you have time to talk now?”

“What’s up?”

“Not here” I replied glancing down at Christian’s tombstone. I know it would probably seem silly to him, but I didn’t want to taint this area with our bullshit. 

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere but here” I replied with a shrug and he grabbed my hand to lead the way to his car.

“I’m sorry for not showing up on my birthday” I began to explain once we were settled in his car.  “Rayven was in an accident so I spent a week with her at the hospital”

“It’s all good. I hope she’s okay now”

“Yeah, she’s fine. How’s your uh, family? “I stammered, looking for the right words.

"Mama? She’s good. She’s doing great actually. She has a boyfriend now”

“Wow. Tell her I said congratulations. I really miss her”

“She misses you too. She’s still asking about you” he smiled, looking in my direction. His gaze made me nervous, so I turned and looked out the tinted window. His phone rang and he quickly hit ignore. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes until I got up the nerve to correct him.

“When I said family, I meant…. You know” I hinted, hoping he would catch on, but he just looked at me like he was clueless. "Kate and your daughter”

“Wow” he chuckled and his expression softened. “You never heard? I was pretty sure you heard through the grapevine. Kate’s baby wasn’t mine”

“What?” my head snapped in his direction. That completely caught me off guard.

“It was her ex’s baby”

“Fi true?! I knew some wasn’t right. I can’t believe I was right all along!”

“Yeah, I should’ve listened to you and waited for DNA results. You were right, I was naïve.”

“Damn right I was right. They always wanna trap the good guy. You’re a catch, ya know. If it weren’t for all the damn lying, we’d be somewhere married right now” I chuckled and it grew silent again.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about Michelle?”

“Truth is, I didn’t want to lose you Robyn. Once I knew about what your mom went through, I thought if you knew about my past, you would drop me without a second thought”

“But that’s what I don’t understand. You were never violent with me”

“I was never violent with her either. It was all a lie. A lie that first cost me my basketball scholarship when I graduated high school, then it cost me my future with you.” he explained how the Michelle situation started and escalated but was over now and I couldn’t believe it. It was like a movie, one where he was stuck with the shitty role. “If I could do anything different, it would be telling you the truth from the start”

“Wow. We really lost everything over lies and bullshit” I realized, shaking my head.

“It’s my fault. I take all the blame” he admitted as his phone rang and he ignored it for the second time. We sat there for a moment. Just looking at each other, lost for words. I waited for this moment so long, and now that it was here, I was speechless. I had so many things I wanted to say, I just didn’t know how.

“I have this huge event happening tomorrow and Tina needs me at the office right now. Can we meet up later? Sometime tonight so we can finish catching up?” he asked. I figured I could use that time to gather my thoughts and say what I really want so I quickly agreed.

“Let me get that for you” he offered, before coming around to open the passenger door.

“Can I have a hug?” 

“Come’re girl. You know you don’t gotta ask for that” he smiled, pulling me as close as he could.  He smelled so good and his embrace was so welcoming, that I just melted into him. I missed this and I wanted it to last forever.

He finally released his grip and when he did, I stood on my tippy toes and stole a kiss. I didn’t know what to expect, so when he kissed me back, I slipped my tongue in and easily found myself getting carried away.

CHRIS

I guess this is the universe’s early birthday gift to me. I thought to myself as I sat furthest from the entrance of Giorgio Baldi, waiting for Robyn’s arrival. I preferred to meet somewhere else, but she insisted that she was in the mood to eat here anyway, so I reluctantly agreed. Being here just brought back so many memories, and I didn’t want to go down memory lane tonight. 

Just when I felt like I was possibly being stood up again, I felt her presence. I looked up just as she lifted her shades and we immediately locked eyes. She smiled and her eyes lit up, she was excited to see me. That made me smile as I stood up for a hug. This one lasted twice as long as the last one and I realized that she really did miss me.

“You look beautiful” I complimented her after our waitress had taken off with our order.

“You’re not too shabby yourself” she teased with a wink. We talked about everything we had been up to in our careers over the appetizer, and the crazy things that have been going on with our families and mutual friends over the rest of the meal. I felt like I was reconnected with a long-lost best friend while we talked about everything except ourselves.

We finished our bottle of wine and took our dessert to go. I was opening the passenger door for Robyn to get in when she did the same thing she did earlier and leaned in for a kiss, and like earlier, I kissed her back.

“Wait” I whispered, slowly pulling away from her soft, full lips. She opened her emerald eyes and bit her bottom lip, lust written all over her face. “Damn, you’re so beautiful” I found myself saying, instead of what I was supposed to be telling her.

She pulled me back to her by grabbing my head and I couldn’t resist. Our tongues danced as we devoured each other right there in the parking lot. She started nibbling on my lips, then moved to my right ear, then my neck. She smelled sweet like vanilla and it turned me on. My hands started to roam her body and my manhood started to grow, that’s when the guilt began to sink in. I can’t do this to Tae.

“Robyn” I called out, trying to get her attention, but she was a woman on a mission. “Hold on. Wait. Stop”

“What do you mean? Don’t you miss this?” she asked offended. 

“I’ve missed you for over a year now, but I have a girlfriend” I blurted, before I could change my mind. For some reason, I was embarrassed to say it.

“Oh” she replied wiping the corners of her mouth, smoothing out her dress, and quickly backing away. “I’m sorry…I uh…I’m sorry.”

“We actually just made it official today. It’s still new” I added, hoping to ease the hurt on her face.

“Well…. I’m glad you’re obviously doing perfectly fine. Never mind on the ride. I’ll get myself home” she spat before whipping around so fast that she almost slapped me with her hair.

“Wait! Robyn!” I called out, praying she would stop. She slowed down and turned around for a moment so I closed the space between us. “Don’t be like that”

“It’s just…I don’t know Chris. I still have feelings for you, and you let me go on and on about how much I’ve missed you in my life all night, so yes, hearing that shit hurts” she admitted, as her eyes teared up.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried talking to you and waiting for you to come around. What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say you still love me as much as I still love you” 

“I do. You know I do, and I don’t expect that to change”

“What are you saying?”

“Let’s be friends.”

ROBYN

“Let’s be friends” I repeated to Melanie a couple of hours later. I was sitting on her love seat repeating the day’s events to her as we shared a bottle of Moscato. I was livid, with no right to be, which Mel reminded me of instantly.

“What’s the problem with that?” she asked confused.  “You’ve told me hundreds of times that you just wanted to know how he’s been. Now that you know he’s actually in a good space, you’re acting jealous.”

“Fucking right I’m jealous. I should be the one who’s moved on and doing good right now, not him. He’s the one who lied and fucked everything up, and to think I was going to ask him if he wanted to try our relationship out again”

“Do you hear yourself right now?” Melanie asked, taking my glass out of my hand to demand my attention. “You could be in a relationship right now, and with a good guy. Dre has been on your ass like a lovesick puppy and what do you do? You do everything in your power to make sure he knows ya’ll aren’t together. You gotta do better than this sis. You’re being selfish and making yourself miserable in the process.”

“Wow…selfish? Don’t I have the right to be?”

“You have every right to be selfish, but don’t complain with the unhappiness that comes with it” she replied, handing my drink back to me. “You know what’s crazy to me? I decided to count how many times you called to check up on me in the past few months. Guess how many times you called me.”

“Seriously? I don’t know, we talk at least once a week, so at least five to ten times.” I answered easily.

“No. I call you once or twice a week. You called me once this entire year. You don’t even know that while I was in Vegas a few weeks ago with J for his conference, we decided to get married there” she revealed nonchalantly.

“You lying” I laughed. “There’s no way you’re serious”

“Robyn, every time we talk, it’s all about you. We’ve gotten to the point where I don’t even say much when we do talk because you’re going nonstop about your problems”

“Bitch you got married and didn’t tell me? There’s no way I’m that fucking bad.”

“You really are though. If you wouldn’t have run in to Chris today, you wouldn’t even be here right now” she pointed out, and I realized she was right. 

“Oh my God. You’re right” I admitted in shame. “I’m sorry. I’ll get it together. I promise. I feel horrible now.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I just want my best friend back” 

“I don’t even know who that girl is anymore, but I can make sure you have a new and improved best friend” I promised, kissing her cheek. “Just promise not to replace me”

“You know you’re irreplaceable. That goes for Chris too.” she added. “He’s right. If you really want to try with him again, just try being friends first”

CHRIS

“Man, I had a ball” Taylor stated, grabbing a bottle of water and downing it in seconds. We had just finished our kickball game, my team won of course, so I was talking shit.

“Well at least ya’ll had fun getting ya’ll ass kicked” I teased, drinking a Gatorade just as fast as he did his water. It was hot as hell outside today and the T-shirt I had on wasn’t making it any better. I was ready to take it off, but kept reminding myself that this was a family event.

“Naw, we would’ve won if it weren’t for Ryan being on our team. She didn’t even make it to first base all three times she kicked, and I’m pretty sure it was because she was helping you out. I’ve seen how she looks at you” he joked with a wink.

“That’s Anthony’s girl” I replied shaking my head.

“Oh really? My bad, I was just kidding, I hope he didn’t hear me”

“I heard you, but it’s all good. That’s not my girl, she for everybody. Ain’t that right Chris?” Anthony asked, reaching around Taylor and grabbing two bottles of water himself.

“Don’t disrespect her like that. That’s the homie” I replied, shaking my head. I forgot how bad he was when it came to speaking his mind. He always said what he felt like, no matter how disrespectful it came out.

“I’m just being honest. Matter of fact, I’m sure you could get that too, if you wanted to” he laughed, tapping Taylor’s arm and hitting my last nerve. I finished my drink and stepped closer to him so we could be eye to eye and he saw how serious I was. “I asked you once alre-”

"Happy birthday Chris” Robyn’s unmistakable voice called out, stealing my attention. Anthony frowned, then stepped back and walked in the opposite direction.

“You actually came.” My head whipped around so fast to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. I couldn’t believe she showed up. I was pretty sure she was done with me, after my confession yesterday.

“Of course I came. If it’s important to my friend then it’s important to me” she winked. "We were in the stands the whole time” she added pointing over to Rayven, who was at the concession stand ordering food.

“How do you two know each other?” Taylor interrupted, making his presence known.

“What are you doing here?” Robyn asked, squinting as she shielded her eyes from the sun.

“You know my little brother? “I asked, wide eyed in shock. Surprises were coming left and right today.

"No, I mean he works at my gym, but I don’t know him” she explained, shifting weight from one leg to the other. “Wait this is Taylor, your long lost brother? He told me his name was Quincy. ”

“Quincy is my first name, I use it in the professional world, but everyone who knows me calls me Taylor, my middle name” he clarified.

"This world is small as fuck” I shook my head in amazement.

“Well, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday Chris. We’re about to take off. This was awesome, we had a lot of fun” she blushed, giving me a light punch on the arm. “It was good seeing you too, Quincy” she added before walking off.

“Bro. You gotta hook me up with her. She’s bad as fuck. I can tell she likes me too, she’s just nervous about my age.” Taylor exclaimed like a freshman who just met the prom queen. “And age ain’t nothing but a number. So, now that I know that you know her, you can vouch for me bro”

“Nah. I’m sorry to break it to you, but you can’t have her. We have too much history.” I replied, leaving it at that. This wasn’t something that was up for discussion. 

Fortunately, we made it through the rest of the event without any incidents. I was glad to be home, freshly showered, and lying in bed with Diamond. I had almost dozed off when my phone rang.

“Hey babe, how did everything go?” Tae’s perky voice rang in my ear.

“Everything was perfect” 

“Did anything exciting happen?

“Nothing too crazy. What about you? Did everything work out with your schedule?” I answered quickly, changing the subject. I wasn’t ready to reveal the fact that I’d run into Robyn yet. Our relationship was still so new, I didn’t want her to feel like she entered a competition, because that wasn’t the case. Although I love Robyn, I wouldn’t put myself in the same cycle as I did before, neither of them deserved that.

“Everything worked out perfectly. I miss you already though. I can’t wait for Nicki’s wedding so I can have an excuse to see you again”

“Don’t worry babe. Two weeks will fly by, and you’ll be in my arms in no time” I smiled. It felt good to be missed, but most of all, it felt good to be genuinely happy.

#robyn rihanna fenty #chris brown #ff #fanfiction #fanfic

[gruvia-raid]

The Strength in Fragilty

Chapter 2: Fatigue

AN: Anything in italics is a flashback

TW: Cancer and mentions of death

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Fairy Tail nor do I own it's characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima & Co. This story uses coarse language.

"Juvia sweetie, I'm coming home today."

"Really! Why? Juvia thought mom wasn't able to come home for another couple of months."

Juvia was ecstatic. She hadn't seen her mother in over a year, since she had moved aboard for work. Well she wasn't her actual birth mother, she was her adoptive one. You see Juvia never knew her birth mom, for she died during childbirth and her father died when she was seven due to an undetectable cancer. She was sent to an orphanage and was treated horribly by the other children there. But one day, a beautiful brunette came and fell in love with her. A few months later, after all the paper work was done, she adopted Juvia and has been with her ever since. She was an infamous fashion designer, thus she travelled a lot, and recently she had left for an upcoming joint fashion line which required her to move away.

"Well hun, I told them of your 'condition', so I was given permission to move back and take care of you. Isn't that great?"

No it really wasn't.

"Aha mom doesn't need to return on account of Juvia's condition. She can take care of herself. Mom mustn't burden herself." A month ago Juvia was diagnosed with lung cancer. But she believed she was a very independent women now, her mother didn't need to come to her rescue like she used too.

"Nonsense Juvi-bee," her mother chuckled over the phone. "You are much more important than a fashion line. I want my baby feeling worry free as she over comes her illness. So it's no burden."

"But mother," Juvia whined she really didn't need help." Juvia is perfectly fine by herself don't worry abou-"

"Juvia" Her mother spoke in a stern voice. Juvia could imagine her face now, eyebrows scrunched worriedly together but with a glare that could kill. If anyone else attempted that look they would seem ridiculous but on her mother it was terrifying. "I am coming home whether you want me too or not. I know that you are strong, you are my child after all. But everyone needs a little help in life. And you missy do not have a man to take care of you so a mother is perfect during times like these. Plus, I'm already at the airport waiting to broad the plane."

Seriously, her mother took any chance she got to point out that Juvia didn't have a 'man' in her life. She had a man but he was too much of an ass to stay with her. Juvia was independent anyway, she didn't need a man, hasn't her mother ever heard the song "I don't need a man" by the Pussycat dolls? Yet, mama shouldn't be talking 'cause she didn't have a man either. Though she claims that she "couldn't have a stable relationship in her line of work" yeah, nice excuse mom.

Juvia sighed, nonetheless she did miss her. "Fine what time should Juvia pick mom up?"

Her mother chuckled. "at 8 sweetie. And you should really try to not speak in third person that's probably why you don't have a man."

"Bye mom." She deadpanned.

"Bye darling love you." She smooched.

"Love you too." The call ended

Two hours later, Juvia received a phone call informing her that her mother's plane had crashed, and that they were still searching for survivors. Unfortunately, her mother was not one.

As Juvia was awakening from her deep slumber, she immediately felt another presence within the room. She cracked one eye open to reveal her oldest friend Gajeel Redfox sitting around the small coffee table.

"Gajeel-kun?" she mumbled in a hoarse voice.

"Oi Rainwoman, You finally awake?" He asked, even though he could clearly see she was.

Gajeel was the only person willing to talk to Juvia on his own accord during elementary school. All of the other children thought she was weird, ugly and depressing. They all used to make fun of her saying that if she "were a smurf she'd be named gloomy" or that she "looked like those people in avatar, ugly and unhuman" these were all references to her blue...well, her blue everything. But one day Gajeel came along and threatened all the kids, both boy and girl, that if anyone ever talked shit about her again, he'd punch them square in the face. Thus, they became friends.

Well, not exactly, after that she would always follow him like a little lost puppy. He always complained, but never abandoned her. And eventually, he finally became accustom to her presence.

She nodded before asking "What is Gajeel-kun doing here?"

"Fuck that! What the fuck Juvia, didn't Dr. Stripper say to take it easy?"

"Gajeel-kun there is no need to swear. Juvia was just a little tired is all. Nothing too serious."

"I don't give a fuck that you were 'a little tired'" he attempted to mock her. "You're not invincible woman. You're sick, so calm the fuck down with all this shit you keep doing."

"But Gajeel-kun." She whined. Seriously, what was wrong with everyone? Just because her lungs were weak didn't mean she was...well sort of. It was annoying that everyone else saw her as a fragile flower, when she felt like superman, well most of the time anyway, everyone was just over exaggerating.

"WOMEN, YOU NEED TO TAKE A FUCKING BREAK! YOU CAN'T KEEP PUSHING YOURSELF TO THE FUCKING LIMIT LIKE THIS!"

Just then, Levy McGarden Gajeel's fiancée walked in with two steaming cups of coffee and a cup of tea.

"Gajeel, calm down, don't you see she feels bad enough as it is?" Levy reprimanded in a soft tone. Levy was another one of Juvia's close friends, though not as close as Lucy or Gajeel, she was always there when Gajeel would yell over whatever he didn't approve of. Juvia thought she was a good fit for him though, she always seemed to keep Gajeel in check when he was swimming in dangerous territory. They were each other's yin and yang, she was happy for them.

"Thanks Levy-san" Juvia stated as Levy handed her the cup of tea and handed Gajeel the other coffee.

"Ah wait you can't drink that Juvia." Gray spoke as he and head oncologist Erza Scarlet entered the hospital room.

"Why is that Dr. Fullbuster?" Juvia inquired with a look of puzzlement.

"Well I was about to perform those tests I informed you of earlier. And you can't drink anything other than water within eight hour of the tests." He smiled apologetically.

"Hello Juvia, How are you feeling?" Erza smiled as she strolled past Gray towards the bed, her fiery red hair flowing behind. One look at Erza and your immediate reaction would be "Wow" as she was stunningly beautiful. But once you got to know her, you'd realize she was a bit on the scary side personality wise.

"Better than earlier," she chuckled. "How is Erza-san? Juvia hasn't spoken to her in a while."

"Ah I'm very busy, I can tell you that. Being in charge of this one and Natsu, plus all the paperwork for this department is a lot to handle." Juvia smiled, she knew Natsu for a while since he was Lucy boyfriend and him alone was a lot to handle.

"But I saw Gray walking this way and just wanted to stop by to say hello. Like I said though, I am very busy so I must bid you goodbye." Erza left as Juvia waved to her goodbye. Gajeel and Levy also bid Juvia their goodbyes as Gray was ready to begin his tests.

"Now then, shall we?"

The testing ran over the course of a long excruciating week. Until the fateful day when Juvia could finally return home, she grew weary of just laying in her hospital bed. Gray stood over her, clipboard in hand, was just near done with his paper work, and was ultimately ready to discharge Juvia.

"Well Juvia, we are all finished here and you young lady are being discharged today." Scribbling a few last words on a small piece of paper, he handed to Juvia. "This is the prescription for the new medication I'm subscribing you. And when the latest test results arrive I'll contact you." He finished with his signature smile-smirk-thing.

"Thank you once again Dr. Fullbuster. Juvia appreciates everything you have done for her."

"Aha, well it's my job to take care of you." Gray stood there contemplating for a minute. He really wanted to ask her something, but while he was on the job it would be completely unprofessional. But as he spared her a glance, she stared at him so expectantly as if she was waiting for him to come out and say it. Screw the job, he'd just take it like a man and ask. "Hey...um...Juvia?"

She stared waiting for him to go on. He scratched the back of his head and continued. "Would it..um." Come on Gray, what's gotten into you? He cleared his throat. "Would it be inappropriate to say that I am off work tomorrow afternoon and I'd enjoy it if you were to go out with me?" There he said it, the damage was done.

Juvia couldn't help but notice how his cheeks were dusted a faint pink. One could say she did fancy the young doctor's company. He was sweet, handsome, funny and from what she could assume protective, as he always seemed worried about her. One could say she had an attraction for the man when she first laid eyes on him. Oh who was she kidding? She was completely smitten. She beamed at him.

"Juvia would love too!"

AN: Alrighty guys that's a wrap for chapter 2. The next chapter will be their date so expect so fluff. And like I said in chapter 1, it is 85% done. Let me know if you guys are liking it so far.

#fairy tail #Juvia Lockser #juvia loxar #fairy tail juvia #gray fullbuster #fairy tail gray #Gray X Juvia #Juvia x Gray #gruvia #gruvia au #Gajeevy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #theraiderwrites

[taggianto]

If there was one thing Kent knew, it was that with every high, there inevitably followed a low. And winning the Stanley Cup in his rookie season was a big fucking high. So that’s how Kent found himself three weeks later, in the kitchen of his brand new, professionally decorated penthouse apartment, eating Rocky Road ice cream straight from the tub. The radio is blasting “All By Myself” and though he’s definitely not crying, it’s a damn close thing.

The music is so loud, he doesn’t hear the door opening. When Jeff Troy rounds the corner into his kitchen, Kent’s eyes go wide as saucers, and he swears rather explicitly in Quebecois.

“Jesus Christ, Parser,” Jeff starts just as Kent says, “Shit, you’re early.” They stare at each other awkwardly for a moment until Jeff breaks out laughing.

Kent throws his spoon at him. “You are such an asshole.” He puts the lid back on the ice cream tub and shoves it into the freezer before switching off the radio.

Jeff is still chuckling, but there’s concern in his voice too. “So what was that about, huh?”

“It’s stupid.” Kent bends to pick up the spoon and toss it in the dishwasher.

When Kent looks up, Jeff has his arms crossed and an I’m not going to let you brush this one off, Parson look on his face. “Try me.”

“It’s just…” Kent sighs. Jeff was his best friend on the team, one of the only other players who’d bothered to get to know him outside of what he brought to the ice. Hell, he’d lived with Jeff’s older brother up until a few weeks ago, so if he couldn’t tell him what was going on, who could he tell? “It’s the apartment.”

“What about it?” Jeff drops his keys and wallet on the counter and hops onto a stool next to Kent at the kitchen’s granite-top island. “Regretting going with almond cream in the bathroom rather than waterfall mist?” Kent had a feeling Jeff was never going to let him live down the one time he’d asked his opinion on paint swatches.

“No, it’s just… so…” He waves a hand and searches for the right word. “...empty.”

He’s expecting Jeff to chirp him for that. He’s not expecting Jeff to look at him and nod. “Yeah, no, I get that.” Jeff claps a hand onto his shoulder. “And I know just what you need.”

So that’s how, forty-five minutes later, Kent finds himself knee deep in puppies at the Las Vegas Valley Humane Society. It turns out if you’re mildly famous and show up at the shelter, they’ll let you play with the puppies all you want. He and Jeff had taken a few of the older dogs out for their walks earlier and now they were both on the floor of the puppy play room throwing tennis balls and watching the rottweiler-lab-chow-terrier mixes gallop unsteadily after them. Their mother has her head on Kent’s thigh, grateful for the break from dealing with her pups.

“You do this a lot?” Kent asks once the pups have waddled off to occupy themselves with something more interesting.

“Not a lot, but it’s good stress relief.” Jeff ruffles the ears of a nearby pup. “I mean, obviously with our schedules there’s no way I’d have time for a dog but I had them growing up, y’know? So I miss it.”

“I never had pets growing up,” Kent says, staring straight ahead as one of the pups wrestles his brother to the ground.

“Really?” Jeff looks over at him. “Not even a fish?”

“Well, okay, I had a goldfish, but it only lived a couple months. But like, my mom is really allergic to pet dander so we could never have one.” He scratches between the mother dog’s ears and she thumps her tail appreciatively.

“Are you allergic?”

Kent gestures around at the surrounding animals. “Obviously not.”

Jeff laughs and nods. “Then you should get one. It’d make your apartment less empty, that’s for sure.”

“You just said that we don’t have time for dogs with our schedule. And we don’t.”

“So get a cat.” Jeff shrugs.

“Are cats easier?”

“Dude, cats are so easier.” Jeff stands and stretches out his back, holding out a hand to help Kent up. “As long as you leave food out, you can leave them by themselves for a few days. And on the longer roadies, you can just hire a pet sitter.”

They find one of the shelter workers who happily shows them to the cat rooms. The walls are lined with stainless steel cages. Paws reach out through the bars and tiny mews follow them around the room.

“Fuck, there are so many.” Kent is a little overwhelmed by the number of cages. “How the hell do you choose one?”

“From my experience, you just kinda know.” Jeff kneels down to scratch at a calico rubbing up against the bars. “That’s how it was when I picked out my first dog.”

Kent does a lap around the room, looking in the cages. He’d never really been a big fan of cats - yeah, they were cute and cat videos were inherently hilarious - but because his mother was so allergic he’d never really thought about them much. But now, looking into the cages and listening to the soft (and some not-so-soft) sounds coming from them, he’s starting to see the appeal.

He’s rubbing between the ears of a little grey kitten when he spots her. She’s in one of the bottom cages, and she’s curled up asleep in her litter box of all places. She eyes him warily as he crouches down.

Hi! My name is KITT, the placard on the front reads. 2 years old, female, spayed. BREED: Maine Coon. COLOR: Brown tabby. My previous owners had to move, so I’m looking for my new furever home! I may seem shy, but I warm up quickly. My favorite things to do include sitting in sun beams, chasing toy mice, and purring!

“Hey there, little girl,” Kent says quietly. She stands and stretches, arching her back up and yawning. He slides his fingers in between the bars and she cautiously comes over to sniff at him, then proceeds to start licking him. “Hey, that tickles!” he says with a soft laugh.

“Would you like to hold her?” Kent jumps slightly and looks up to see one of the shelter volunteers smiling at him. “I can let her out for you.” He nods, and the woman opens up the cage door.

Kitt stands at the edge of the cage, and Kent gently slides a hand along her cheek. “She’s so soft,” he says, smiling.

“Maine coons are really soft,” the volunteer says. “And really loyal. If you’re looking for a fluffy companion, a coon would be good for you.”

Kent spots Jeff smiling over at him then, and there’s a warmth there that he hasn’t noticed before. Huh. He catches his eye and Jeff glances away quickly. Before he can say anything though, Kent’s got a lapful of cat, one paw reaching over to guide his hand back to her head. He laughs and obligingly scratches between her ears. “I’ll take her.”

#kent parson #jeff swoops troy #check please #kitt purrson #taggfics #kent posi posse

[accio-ambition]

Under Christmas’s Influence

Merry Christmas Sandy ( @tehgreeneyes )! I was fortunate enough to be your CS Secret Santa this year! I know we didn’t really talk much, but I really enjoyed what we did talk about. 12 Monkeys is now definitely on my to-watch list, with all the Googling I did to cameo it in here (I might have fallen into a vortex for a couple hours of distraction, but whatever). You said that one of your favorite tropes was fake!dating/engaged/married, so I wrote you a (not so) little fake!engaged Christmas story. I hope you don’t absolutely hate Hallmark Christmas movies, because that is where I drew a bit (aka a lot) of inspiration for this story. Merry Christmas!

(This is a long one, so you can read it on AO3 too in case it hurts your eyes.)

The call from his brother isn’t necessarily unexpected. It is Christmastime - the one time of year one starts reflecting on the past year and thinking about all the important people in one’s life. But since getting married last winter, shortly after Valentine’s Day, Killian’s barely heard from his brother or new sister-in-law. A postcard from the honeymoon, the occasional tag in a Facebook post, but otherwise, nothing.

It’s been difficult, he will admit, watching his brother go from bachelor to husband, but only in that selfish way where now Liam has to ask if he can accompany Killian on bar crawls or can’t make it to every football game during the season.

So when Liam does call as he walks in to his apartment after work one afternoon, Killian gladly answers it. It had been a long, trying day at work - depositions for most of the morning, then a conference call that lasted five hours with little time to eat or even use the restroom in between. Killian cannot wait to get out of his stuffy suit and tie, throw on his sweats, and watch T.V.

ESPN, he tells himself. There’s that important college game on tonight.

It’s a losing battle, though: it’s Christmastime, which means corny, completely unnecessary, totally unoriginal Christmas movies. The perfect remedy to the problems practicing the law could bring up.

Killian flips the light in his room on before immediately turning on the T.V. and muting it before answering his phone. He greets his brother just as some woman silently giggles at a man holding a dog.

Haven’t seen this one before.

“Little brother, my god, you are alive!” Liam says instead of hello.

“In the sense that I’m still alive and breathing, yes,” Killian quips back, putting his phone on speaker and proceeding to change out of his clothes. “Other than that, I’d hardly say I’m alive.”

Liam groans and Killian can just imagine his older brother slapping himself on the forehead. It’s his own fault, the sarcastic streak Killian has, though it does both of them wonders during certain situations, particularly during hard court cases.

While Killian chuckles, Liam’s groan transforms into a sigh. The change in mood is as unexpected as Liam’s phone call, but instead of asking about it, Killian lets the quiet ensue. If there’s one thing Killian’s learned about his big brother in his time on earth, it’s that, if something’s bothering Liam, he’ll say it.

So when Liam says, “I apologize for being an arse,” his younger brother can’t imagine what he’s managed to do wrong if they haven’t truly spoken in months.

“About what exactly, may I inquire?” Killian asks, changed and taking a seat at the edge of his bed. His eyes sort of glaze over as he stares at the screen. Another man’s face is contorted into some slimy smirk or grimace or something akin to that, looking after the woman with the puppy.

This plot would be so much simpler if I could hear what they were saying.

Killian fiddles with the remote, trying to find the button for subtitles or captions, while Liam continues. “I know I’ve been sort of…” he pauses just as the captions begin scrolling along the bottom of the screen, “neglecting you since I married.”

Shrugging, Killian reasons, “Your priorities have changed. You’ve got Belle now. All that marriage stuff. Honeymoons and thank you cards and on and on.”

“Yes, but you’ll always be my little brother.” This time, Killian groans, but it’s in the same way that he bemoans cheesy pickup lines and corny Christmas movie plots. It’s a sentiment he doesn’t exactly always feel this time of year, but when he does, it makes his heart grow like the Grinch’s.

“I’m still learning how to balance brotherhood with marriage, alright?”  Liam says, his voice a bit gruffer. “So I’m sorry if I made you feel poorly. I never meant to.”

“Worry not, Liam. I’ve gotten used to it.”

His older brother scoffs. “Now don’t say that,” he says. “You really make me feel like a horrendous person.”

Killian barks out a laugh. “You said it, not me.” Dramatically, he flops back on his mattress, letting his muscles relax into the comfort. It really has been a long day.

“So what’s going on in your life?” Liam asks in a friendly manner. “What have I missed?”

Killian opens his mouth to answer - it’s been months, there really is too much to cover in a single phone call - but it shuts quickly when he hears a key in the lock of his front door. There’s only one person in the world who’s got his spare key to his place.

While losing Liam as his automatic plus-one to all social events was a bummer, Killian’s managed to find solace in his neighbor, one Emma Swan, who barged into his life quite suddenly and hasn’t really allowed him a moment to recover since.

Liam just doesn’t know that.

Not quite yet.

And with all the time he’s had to theoretically prepare for this moment, Killian hasn’t the slightest idea how to tell his brother that the most important thing he’s missed in the past months isn’t an event, but a person.

0000

He’d briefly seen her move in, just a couple days after returning to his apartment from Liam and Belle’s wedding festivities. The door next to his propped open with a box overflowing with shoes and the grunts and groans of furniture-moving from within were dead giveaways. Still tired and a bit hungover, Killian resolved to introduce himself later. Maybe after he’d had a thorough shower.

Very thorough. I’m pretty sure someone vomited on me during the morning-after brunch, he thinks. I can still feel the grime on me.

And that’s all the thought he spares this new neighbor of his. Killian goes about showering and returning to the land of post-Liam’s-wedding. It isn’t until two or three Sundays later that the new neighbor crosses his mind again.

Settling down on the couch, Killian takes a deep breath. 12 Monkeys is set to premiere in mere minutes - perhaps not the best attempt at unwinding before what’s promised to be another tough work week, but he can’t even ponder the idea of dodging spoilers. Too much stress.

His eyes slide shut and the next thing he knows, the opening notes of the theme music float through his ears. Killian opens his eyes, hoping they clear in time for him to catch all the intricacies this episode might offer.

And then the pounding starts.

Someone incessantly bangs at his front door. Everyone who’s anybody important enough to him knows not to interrupt him during this time of the week. So he tries to ignore it, just let the complexities of Dr. Railly and James Cole’s adventures take him away.

But the knocking won’t stop.

“They’ve just got the wrong apartment,” he mumbles to himself.

“Open the door, 312! It’s an emergency!” a woman’s voice shouts through the door.

Apparently not.

An emergency could mean a slew of things: broken bones, burning buildings, a mouse in the shower. But if it’s either of the first two, he doesn’t want the woman’s injury on his conscience for the rest of his life. And Liam did raise him to be a gentleman. It wouldn’t be chivalrous to let the mouse run all over this woman’s apartment if she really didn’t want it to.

Eyes still glued to the TV, Killian walks and opens the front door. The only way he can tell that the blonde hurricane that rushes by him is a person is the brush of hair against his arm and the aforementioned tone of voice.

“Excuse me,” he says, watching as she takes his seat on his couch to, what seems like, watch his T.V. “Can I help you?”

“My cable isn’t working and I heard the theme song through the walls.” Her words are direct, offering no other option except for the fact that she’s in his apartment during his show. Eyes on the screen, the woman pats the cushion next to her. “Close the door and sit the fuck down.”

And despite the fact that she’s the one that barged into his apartment, Killian does as she requests: a bit stunned, he shuts the door and ambles over to the couch, barely able to focus in on the show unfolding before them.

“Who are you?” he inquires, easing himself on to the cushion she’d indicated.

“311,” she replies.

“Lovely to meet you, 311. Is that the name - “

She shushes him, her hand waving next to him, gaze still intent on Cassie as she’s deep in conversation with some character Killian hadn’t even known existed. “Wait until commercials. Then talk.”

Again, Killian surprises himself by following her instructions. Between commercials, he manages to get a little more information out of her through hesitantly asked questions. Emma Swan, she says, apartment 311, moved in a month or so ago after escaping from bailbonds and getting something a little more efficient (and probably safer) in law enforcement.

But that’s all he gets that first night, aside from the few physical descriptors he gets from her profile. Otherwise, she’s silent, intent on trying to figure out the twists and turns the show keeps throwing at them. And, man, even as distracted as he is, even he can tell that this season is bound to be a gamechanger.

When the episode is finished, she quietly thanks him, a much different tone from earlier, and leaves his apartment with a completely changed demeanor. But just before his front door shuts between them, Killian sticks his foot in the jamb.

“Next week?” he asks. She - Emma - turns gently, eyebrow raised and eyes squinting at him with confusion. She’s wary, for some reason or another. Swallowing nervously, Killian repeats himself. “Would you like to come over for next week’s episode?”

Taking a step back, Emma’s tongue peeks out between her lips. “My cable should be fixed by then,” she says.

“Oh.” That’s a bit of a letdown. Then again, as he’s constantly had to remind himself tonight, she hadn’t really given him much to go on about her personal life except that her cable was out.

He’s always been up for a challenge, especially one as beguiling as the show that unintentionally brought them together. For now.

“Regardless, you’re more than welcome to come, Swan,” he tells her. Gesturing toward the door, Killian also suggests, “Perhaps knock a bit gentler next time.”

He watches Emma struggle to hold back a grin, her fingers wringing around each other. “Maybe,” is all she deigns for an answer. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones and that’s not something Killian usually notices with anybody. With a silent nod, she takes the five or so steps back to her front door and goes back home.

Killian lingers in the doorway far longer than appropriate.

The next Sunday, he’s settling into the couch, ten minutes to showtime, when a much more hesitant knock sounds at his door. Killian can’t help the smile that crosses his face as he approaches the door.

When he opens it, Emma stands on the other side, both hands holding a plastic bag between then. When he glances down at it, she struggles to hold it up on display.

“Apology Chinese?” she says by way of greeting, her lower lip getting stuck between her teeth. Bringing the bag back toward the ground, she adds, “I’m sorry I forced myself into your apartment last weekend.”

Killian’s already shaking his head before she’s completed her thought. “Completely understandable,” he remarks. “The cable was down.”

Chuckling, Emma shuffles her feet. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees that as an emergency.”

It takes an exorbitant amount of time for Killian to stop nodding like the village idiot. But when he does, he takes a step back and waves her into his apartment. “Please, do come in,” he offers. “You made it just in the nick of time.”

And the rest, he likes to say, is history.

0000

“Killian!” The shout is followed by slam of the front door. “Killian, where are you? I need to complain to you about my day and then drink all your booze.”

He’s up quicker than he thought possible at this time in the evening. Killian slides down the hardwood floors into the living room, silently and frantically slicing his hand across his throat and mouthing shut up!

Emma just stares at him with befuddlement in her eyes. She briefly mimics his motions.

“Are you having a fucking stroke?” she asks, coming up to him. “What’s wrong with you?”

Bringing his phone down to his chest to cover the speaker, Killian whisper-shouts, “It’s my brother,” just as he can hear Liam on the other end of the line. His voice is muffled, of course, what with the shirt and all, but even from here, Killian can tell his brother’s tone is adamant and desirous of information.

Emma, on the other hand, is dumbstruck. Those green green eyes of hers are blown wide with surprise. She tiptoes away and sinks into the corner of the couch, pulling one of decorative pillows he threw on there when he first moved in a couple years ago into her lap and squishing it.

“Sorry,” she whispers, hiding the lower half of her face with the pillow, presumably trying to protect herself from the blush of embarrassment rising on her cheeks.

Killian sighs and shakes his head. He walks over behind the couch and rests his empty hand on the top of her head, running his fingers through the hair that catches there. When he finally puts his phone back to his ear, Killian just catches the tail end of Liam’s barrage of questions.

“Who was that, little brother?” Liam asks.

“No one,” Killian answers too swiftly. He feels pressure on his hand, Emma leaning into his hold, before she gets up and heads toward the kitchen.

Probably to start drinking that booze she mentioned, he thinks.

Liam catches his attention once more. “Killian, I can’t even see you and I know you’re lying through your teeth.”

Unconsciously, Killian’s hand raises and scratches at the skin behind his ear. “So?” he asks, his brother losing his focus as Emma finds whatever poison she was searching for and takes her seat back on the couch, cup in hand.

“So, I’m your older brother,” Liam explains. “You’ve got to tell me.”

“Have not.”

“Have so.” Liam doesn’t say anything for another moment before pleading, “C’mon, Killian.”

Sighing, Killian looks at Emma again. He’s not sure why he hasn’t told Liam about Emma yet, lack of communication in the past few months aside. It’s always been his little secret, almost - a secret friend who’s come to rely on him for alcohol and support and who knows what else.

Emma turns on the T.V. in the living room, already on the Hallmark channel from last night’s bad movie binge. She mutes it, but Killian doesn’t need the dialogue. It must be the end of the movie, the main characters standing at the end of a church aisle.

“It’s just…” he hesitates.

“Yes?”

He knows it’s going to be a mess before he even comprehends what he actually says. “My fiancée?” He winces, the ends of Emma’s hair making some sort of noise as they whip around on the back of the couch. Killian can feel her staring at him.

“Fiancée?” Liam repeats, sounding just as disbelieving as Killian is that he actually said it. Killian hums in agreement as Emma’s green eyes go impossibly wider. Liam, on the other hand, grumps. “Bring her...Him?” Killian rolls his eyes and replies her. “Her to Christmas Eve dinner. You guys can stay with Belle and I and we can have a real Christmas morning.”

Moaning, Killian walks around to the front of the couch and takes a seat beside Emma. His free hand comes to rest on her knee, a move she mimics in solidarity. “I don’t know, Liam,” he says. “I really wouldn’t want to intrude on Belle and yours first Christmas as husband and wife. You should have - “

“Nonsense!” his brother shouts. “Christmas is about family. We should spend it together.”

“I thought Thanksgiving was about family,” Killian scoffs.

“You and I both know we have no bloody clue about these American holidays. We like to - “

“Keep good form as we go.” Next to him, Emma chuckles. He’s been known to say the same phrase on occasion. “I know, brother.”

“I know you know. It’s my job to remind you sometimes.” On Liam’s end of the conversation, something arises in the background, a scuffling sort of noise. It’s probably Belle, Killian thinks, making dinner or coming in from work. Liam’s voice is muffled as he probably greets him.

“I’ve kept you too long, haven’t I?” Killian asks once the racket on the other side signals his brother’s back on the line.

“No, no, I called you, remember?” Liam says. “I’ll let you get back to your -” he pauses, making his voice more suggestive, “-.fiancée.”

“Thanks.” There’s something hard to swallow around in his throat. “I’ll see you for Christmas Eve dinner, I suppose.”

“Yes, both of you will,” Liam bids, his last phrase a subtle reminder, before hanging up and spending the evening with his wife.

Killian, on the other hand, groans and throw his phone on the coffee table. He rubs his hands against his face.

“Fiancée?” Emma says calmly. “Really?”

Killian shrugs, his face warming with embarrassment. “I’m really bad at thinking on my feet.”

“How is that possible? You lie for a living!” Emma flops back on to her spot on the couch, really too semantic for her own good.

“No I don’t.” It's a point of discussion since the inception of their friendship: in her experience, Emma's seen attorneys lie and lie and Killian tries really hard not to.

But sometimes…

“I just sometimes have to spin the truth in a different.” Emma glares at him. “Ugh, I don’t know.” He throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. “I was watching one of those bad Hallmark Christmas movies and I guess their subliminal messaging worked.”

Scoffing, Emma turns back to the T.V., where one of said movies comes to its joyful conclusion. As always, there's unnecessary confetti that's definitely going to kill the birds, but no one cares about that because it's a low budget T.V. film. “I’ll be sure to write a letter to the TV executives congratulating them,” she says drolly, finally unmuting the T.V. She sighs as the new movie starts, one he's already seen this season. “Well, what happens now?” She asks on another sigh.

Killian should've known. His Swan is nothing if not curious, if not nosy. But she was there, as she is nearly every night in any given week, and he knows he really should've asked her before blurring out the word fiancée as he did.

But where else is he going to find a fake fiancée in such a time crunch?

“What plans do you have for Christmas?” he inquires, hoping for a subtle reaction.

That's not the case, of course. Turning toward him slowly, Killian watches as Emma's eyes go wide as saucers, her brows raise high, and her jaw drops.

“Killian, you can’t be serious.”

“Swan, darling, what else are you going to do?” he reasons. “You’ve got an invitation to dinner on Christmas Eve and the guarantee that you’ll wake up to presents and stereotypical family warmth on Christmas morning.”

“I-I mean,” she stutters, jaw still dangling dangerously close to her breastbone. “Weren’t we going to get drunk Christmas Eve and sleep off the hangover Christmas day?”

Recoiling a bit, Killian raises a brow and asks, “We were?”

Emma shrugs, somehow digging herself further into the couch. She takes to holding the decorative pillow from earlier, a sure sign of her nerves. “We didn’t decide anything, but I figure it was the sort of thing we would do.” Looking furtively between him and the T.V., Emma shrugs again. “I was gonna suggest it after dinner tonight.”

“Well, we can do that at Liam’s,” he offers, playfully nudging her with his elbow. “We’ll have some drinks with dinner, have a nice time, then steal whatever from the liquor cabinet and down it all in the guest room in our pajamas.”

She rolls her eyes. “That can’t be good form.”

He doesn’t deign her an answer - not because it’s technically not good form, but for other reasons - and begins poking her on the knee. “Come with me,” he requests of her quietly. “You can meet Liam and Belle. It’ll be great.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her eyes on the male character as he ascends to a throne, before looking him dead in the eye.

“Promise?” she asks softly, her mouth partially hidden behind the pillow.

Killian nods solemnly. “Promise.”

0000

It’s been dark all day, clouds heavy with snow, but somehow, as Killian and Emma sit in her car in his brother’s driveway, Christmas Eve somehow seems to get darker.

“It’s kind of cold,” Emma mumbles, playing with the ring on her left hand. It’s fake, of course, but real enough to pass for an engagement ring. Or at least that’s what they’ve settled on. Killian dug it up from his pirate Halloween costume, and he spent a pretty penny on getting something real enough to fool adults more than children.

Works well for short notice, he thought.

“Yeah, it is.” They sit there for a moment longer, both lost in their respective thoughts, before Killian tsks. Reaching over the center console, he stills her nervous fiddling by taking her hand in his own. “You ready?”

Inhaling sharply and deeply, Emma nods slowly. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” she says accusatorily.

“I can’t believe you agreed to it,” he quips back with a smirk. Killian doesn’t need to see her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. He unlocks his door and squeeze her hand once, hopefully transferring some courage from his palm to hers. “It’s going to be great.”

Emma scoffs, unlocking her door as well. “You better hope they’ve got some top shelf stuff in their cabinet.”

Killian chuckles as he steps foot outside the car, letting go of Emma’s hand to grab the bottles of wine they brought as gifts. “I should hope the same. Alcohol’s the only way to warm up after this cold,” he says over the roof of the car.

The wind blows up a terribly bitter breeze just as they walk up Liam and Belle’s front steps, leaving Killian and Emma to huddle up to each other.

“It’s fucking freezing!” Emma shouts over the wind.

“Try the door!” he replies. “It should be open.”

The next gust of wind ushers them into the starkly warm house. Both shaking off the breeze and the snow, they hang up their coats and rid themselves of their boots. Killian can smell some sort of meat roasting from the over, the scents wafting down the hallway with the Christmas music gently playing on the stereo.

“Hello?” Killian calls, draping his scarf over his jacket. “Liam?”

Liam’s head pop out from around an archway that must lead to the kitchen, for he’s decked out in a festive Santa apron. His smile is goofily wide, though Killian’s sure that there’s a grin as equally as absurd on his face.

Bloody hell, I did miss him.

“Little brother!” Liam shouts, much to Killian’s chagrin. He comes around the corner and embraces Killian in one of the tightest and, in his opinion, most unnecessary hugs in the history of the universe. “My god, it’s been eons.”

Killian can’t help but belt out a laugh as he slaps his older brother on the back. “I saw you at your wedding,” he reminds Liam.

“Really?” Pulling back, the look on Liam’s face makes him seem a lot duller than Killian knows he is. But then he lights back up, in the present instead of the past now, as Belle comes into the room. “Then it has been too long, Killian.”

Moving around his brother, Killian takes his sister-in-law into his arms. “Belle,” he pauses to buss her on the cheek, “radiant as always.”

“Why, thank you,” she says, color rising on her cheeks. She blinks a few times before her eyes focus behind Killian, on to Emma. He’s nearly forgotten she’s there, she’s unusually quiet.

But Belle, ever the people person and general lovely lady that she is, immediately takes to her, stepping forward and offering her a friendly smile. “You must be Killian’s fiancée.”

“Yeah,” Emma chokes out, her voice decidedly soft and watery. “I’m Emma.” Awkwardly, Emma sticks her hand out. Instead, Belle goes in for the hug, Emma’s hand getting caught between their chests. Killian hears her quietly go, “Oof, a hug.”

“I’m sorry,” Belle says automatically, taking a step back subconsciously into Liam’s hold. “Do you not do hugs? I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry, I’m just excited that we’re going to be family.”

And that’s something that neither Killian nor, he’d bet to say, Emma had thought about. Sure, they can pretend that they’re going to get married, say that they incredibly happy and in love, but the idea of being family…

It’s not one of the angles they thought of, he can safely say that. And, from what he know of Emma’s past and the skeletons in her closet, he’s afraid the mere fathom of it might trigger her into quitting the whole charade.

But Belle, bless her, isn’t privy to Killian’s inner monologue, and moves on to the next thought. Addressing Emma, she says with a chuckle, “I don’t know if Killian’s the same way, but I know Liam is a handful more often than not.”

Liam pulls her closer into his chest. “Now, darling, I resent that sentiment,” he chides her lovingly.

Their little exchange, apparently, gives Emma enough time to reboot and get over whatever turmoil she might be experiencing internally. “Hugs are fine,” she tells Belle, her voice a little stronger than when introducing herself. “I was just surprised. It’s been…”  She licks her lips, and glances up at Killian for a tick. “Well, it’s been a while since someone greeted me that way.”

“To be honest, Emma, I’m not surprised,” Liam replies. Looking to his wife, he adds, “Did I tell you, Belle, when I called Killian, the only way I knew about Emma’s existence was because the front door slammed and she yelled at him?”

Killian’s arm goes around Emma’s shoulders, mimicking his brother because that’s what engaged couples do, right? “Frankly I deserved it.”

“He did,” Emma agrees, finally cracking a smile. And then, surprisingly Killian, she places a hand on his chest, looking up at him with a weird glimmer in her eyes, one he’s never really seen in her before. “But he’s still the best part about coming home, and he knows that and accepts that I am a very loud person.”

“I do.” Something about that look of hers keeps him from sarcastically remarking that she can be incredibly loud without even trying. It shakes him because, for some reason or another, her glance reminds him of the way his brother looks at his wife.

Shaking the thought from his brain, Killian turns back to Liam. “So dinner?” he asks. To Emma, he says, “I don’t know about you, love, but I am starved.”

“Seconded,” Emma agrees.

Liam and Belle usher them into the kitchen where the final timer goes off. Liam pulls a ham from the oven and Belle mixes them their first drinks of the evening. That easily leads into dinner, where Killian finds himself glancing at Emma, his excuse being that he wants to make sure she’s having a good time. By the way she laughs hysterically at Liam’s tales of their childhood and keeps whispering to Belle next to her, Killian believes that she is.

A couple times during the meal, he finds his hand wandering over to her knee, exerting slight pressure, silently asking her if she really is doing okay. She always responds with a complementary squeeze, and when her hand lingers there more often than not, Killian tries to focus on literally anything else occurring at that specific moment in time.

By the time the dishes are drying and the leftovers are packed away for lunch tomorrow, Emma’s happily tipsy and Killian’s well on his way to joining her. Liam tells them they’ll have to share the guest bed, but neither of them take issue with it. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve fallen asleep together in close quarters.

Killian manages, though, to keep up his end of the bargain. After bidding Liam and Belle a goodnight and merry Christmas, he nabs two bottles of rum from the liquor cabinet and sneaks them into the guest room, where he finds Emma laying on the bed, flipping through the T.V. channels. She throws the remote to the end of the mattress when her search lands on the Hallmark Channel.

“For someone who enjoys complaining about the subject matter, you’re always quick to find them,” he says over the click of the door closing.

“I get it,” she states as he hands over a bottle. She pops the top and takes a healthy swig.

“Get what, love?” he inquires.

“The bad movie thing,” she says with a roll of her eyes, as if that’s been the topic of discussion for the past two hours and not the last two seconds. Pointing toward the screen, she explains. “Escape. Even though he sent her back home and banished her from Aldovia or wherever, you know he's going to go find and her and they're going to be happy.” On a sigh, Emma settles her head into the pillow. “It's nice.”

It’s so outside of Emma’s realm to be as serious as she is right now. Killian smiles softly at her, joining her on the bed. “I'm glad you finally see that.”

Just as it’s seemed she’s gotten comfortable, Emma swiftly stands, digs through her overnight bag, and goes off into the bathroom with her pajamas. Killian watches the movie as she changes, trying to pick up on the plot points he’s missed and occasionally taking a drink of rum.

When Emma comes back in the room, her daytime clothes balled up in her arms, she announces, “I don't have a family.”

It’s not necessarily out of left field, what with all the talk of Liam and Belle’s wedding and their fake impending nuptials over the dinner table, but Killian’s still a tad surprised by her statement. He doesn’t say anything, though: just allows her to continue at her own pace.

“I was bounced from foster home to group house until I aged out,” she explains, setting her clothes atop her bag. “There were so many kids that none of the adults particularly cared about the holidays.” Coming back to bed, Emma curls up beneath the covers, her voice growing quiet. “And when I grew up, I took to ordering Chinese food and watching these bad movies and the old stop motion ones all night.” She scoots closer to him, her eyes never leaving the T.V. screen. “This is the first Christmas I won't spend alone.”

Killian’s always known her life to be a little harsher than she deserved, but never quite that bad. There’s a hint of that emotion from earlier, the one that made him feel things, linger in her eyes, and he can’t help himself: gently, he brushes some stray strands of hair from her face, his hand staying on her cheek. “Then we're going to make this the best Christmas ever, Swan.”

“It already is,” she sighs happily, looking up at him. “I'm here with you.”

He leans down and kisses her forehead before crawling under the covers himself. Emma’s head ends up on his chest halfway through the movie, the rum forgotten on the nightstands, and they’re both asleep before the prince even proposes.

0000

Killian wakes up shortly after sunrise, head pounding with a headache. He stumbles to the bathroom for aspirin and water and brings back enough for both of them. Popping a few too many drugs, Killian takes a large swig of water to wash them down, and settles back in bed, hoping to get a few more hours. If there’s one Christmas present he’s not going to take for granted, it’s the chance to have a lie in.

Especially when an innocent Emma flips over and snuggles into him, sleep warm. And though her sigh airs on the side of dreamy, Killian can’t say the same for her morning breath. He’s casually choking on tainted air when she rouses.

“What time?” she asks, still half asleep.

“Too early,” Killian says, dragging his hand down her back to try and lull her back into unconsciousness. “Go back to sleep, Swan.”

“But Christmas,” she grumbles.

“It’ll still be Christmas when you wake up,” he assures her. But her breath’s already evening out, and she’s fast asleep less than a minute later.

0000

When they both wake to the sounds of pans clanging in the kitchen a few hours later, Killian feels a lot better. His head isn't killing him anymore, his mouth no longer tastes like cotton, and he's still got a Swan in his hold.

For now.

“You're so fucking hot, get off me,” she grumbles, pushing him wearily, her eyes still closed.

“It's so kind of you to say so,” Killian quips back, holding her even tighter. “I find you to be quite attractive as well.”

Emma groans and shoves his face away. She rolls over and scoots to the very edge of her side of the bed. “You know what I fucking mean.”

Killian sidles in behind her, careful when he threads his arm across her hip and waist. “I do,” he murmurs behind her ear, “but it's Christmas, so your words of malice mean nothing.”

She says something else that her pillow exclusively hears, but then she's sliding out of bed and toward the bathroom.

“If it's Christmas, then we better get started,” she says before closing the door. “The sooner it's over with, the sooner I can be mean to you again.”

Chuckling, Killian shouts through the door, “I like you even when you're yelling at me!”

Emma pokes her head and shoulders out the bathroom door.

“I'm not yelling,” she says matter of factly. “I'm simply expressing my opinion in an angry and slightly elevated tone.”

Once taken care of, Killian and Emma shuffle into the living room to find Belle curled up in a corner of the couch, sipping from a mug.

“Merry Christmas, You two,” she greets them quietly.

“Merry Christmas, Belle,” Emma says in return. “Where's your Jones?”

Belle giggles and tilts her behind back to the kitchen. “He wanted to put some cinnamon rolls in the oven to bake while we opens presents,” she explains.

“Always thinking ahead,” Killian remarks as his brother walks into the room.

“Ah, the lovebirds have awoken.”

“I could say the same for you.”

They exchange gifts - nothing to big or mind blowing. Liam gives Killian his annual pair of socks. Emma and Belle, it seems, thought along the same wavelength, exchanging candles and lotions meant for a relaxing home-spa day. Nobody changes out of their pajamas - too busy eating leftovers and watching classic Christmas movies - until Killian regretfully reminds Emma that they have to drive back home tonight.

“Some of us have to work early tomorrow morning,” he tells her jokingly.

“It’s not my fault your field likes to start their day at 8am,” she gests back.

By the time they say their final goodbyes and merry Christmases to Liam and Belle, it’s dark again, though thankfully not snowing. And when Killian drops Emma’s overnight bag at her doorstep, he can’t quite believe they made it through the holiday.

“Thanks for playing into my fantasy,” he says, surprising himself by how shy he sounds. They’ve spent the better part of the last 48 hours together pretending to be head over heels in love with one another, and now is the part where he begins to be scandalized by the matter? How curious indeed.

“Thanks for giving me the part.” Searching beneath her feet for the answers to life’s greatest questions - or at least that’s what he assumes she’s doing, she staring so intently - Emma scuffs at the floor. Unlike his apartment, she’s got a welcome mat, a little dinky, but still as welcoming as the word written across it. She kicks at it before she inhales deeply. “This might be a bit of a surprise, but that’s probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had in my life.”

“So you said,” Killian says with a chuckle, sticking his hands into his coat pockets. Then he admits quietly, “Me too.”

Her eyes light up, that same emotion bright behind her fluttering eyelashes. “Really?”

Killian shrugs. “The company was above average this year.”

“Aw shucks.” She kicks at the mat again. “Hey, um...” And then she stops herself from continuing.

“Yeah?”

Her right hand is cradling her left as Emma looks at the costume ring on her finger. His gaze falls to it as well. It’s just a silly fake pirate ring, and yet seeing it on her finger, knowing that it belonged to him only a day ago, does something that he suspects looks a lot like the little glimmer that keeps showing up in her eyes.

“I know I should probably give you this back,” she says, “but, um...”

“Keep it,” he says without hesitation. “It's part of your Christmas present.”

Emma shakes her head, already starting to pull the ring off her finger. “You've already given me so much and I just…”

“You've been perfect,” Killian interrupts her. He takes her hand in his and holds it tightly, effectively stopping her from removing the ring. And then, surprising himself, Killian adds, “Since the day you barged into my life and demanded to watch 12 Monkeys.” His tongue runs along his teeth, contemplating the idea formulating in his mind. “But...”

“But?” she repeats.

“If you feel so inclined to thank me...” His sentence drifts off, leading him to raise his finger and tap it to his lips.

Rolling her eyes so hard Killian fears they might get stuck that way, Emma says, “Oh my god, are you serious?”

Killian shrugs again, bringing his hand back into his pocket. “I said if you were inclined.”

“Please, you couldn't handle it,” she says quickly.

“Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it,” he quips back easily.

And before he knows it, Emma’s pressed against him, chest to chest, her hands pulling harshly on the lapels of his jacket. He’s jettisoned forward, his lips to hers, in what’s probably the least expected kiss in his life and possibly the lives of everyone else in their apartment building.

It’s also probably the single best thing to ever happen to him, romantically-inclined or otherwise.

Emma doesn’t step away once she’s done with him, merely comes down from her tiptoes with a heavy breath. “Only one way to find out, right?” Her voice sounds wrecked, her tongue coming out to lick what’s left of him on her lips. Then she lets him go and takes a step back. “Why don't you drop your stuff off and we can see how much we can actually handle together?” she suggests.

Raising a brow, Killian smirks. “Challenge accepted.” He grabs his bag from where it’s fallen to the floor and can’t help himself when he leans over and presses his lips to hers swiftly once more. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

He leaves her unlocking her front door to enter his own apartment, throwing his bag on the couch and beelining it toward his room. There’s dirty laundry to do and he should probably just go to bed because he does have to go to work in the morning, but the opportunity presented to him is just too good an offer to pass up and he can’t be sure that it’ll still be there come morning.

I hope it is, Killian thinks as he pulls on his sweatpants.

But then there’s banging on the other side of his bedroom wall, insistent and forceful and she’s never done that before. Something must be wrong. Throwing on another shirt and forgoing shoes altogether, Killian rushes over to her apartment, knocking equally as hard on her front door.

Emma’s smiling when she flings the door open.

“What's wrong?” he asks, confused by the conflicting information he’s receiving.

“Killian, the Hallmark movie with the dogs!” she shouts at him.

Shaking his head, Killian squints. “Yes, what about it?”

She points toward her living room. “It's on!” Taking his hand, Emma drags him into her apartment, her pleading eyes doing a number on his stomach. “Can we watch it and or have it on in the background?”

He sighs as the screen comes into view. It’s the beginning of the movie, so they can watch it in its entirety and laugh about it together. “I suppose we can wait,” he relents, allowing Emma to sit him down on the couch. He, in turn, wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her legs over his lap. “But I'm not taking my eyes or hands off you for a moment.”

“Good,” she says with a smirk of her own. “I'd despair if you did.”

She tucks her head in the space between his neck and shoulder and something settles, warm and happy, in Killian’s chest.

If Killian had to think of one word to encompass this Christmas, he'd have to settle on unexpected. From his brother’s phone call to his and Emma's fake engagement, the last thing he thought this holiday would end with was him and Emma cozied up on his couch, curled around each other while watching a cheesy Christmas movie.

(And if they don't make it to the triumphant end in order to create their own, then sue him. Sometimes Hallmark movies have to write themselves.)

#csss #captain swan secret santa #cs ff #cs au #fake!engaged #ALSO CHRISTMAS FLUFF #ouat #my words #storytime #this is easily the longest one shot ive written ever #its over 7k #i was worried it wasnt going to get done in time #BUT IT DID #MERRY CHRISTMAS SANDY #i feel like i neglected you as a secret santa #im sorry #i hope you enjoy this!