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scullysexual · 3 months

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A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Rewrite]

I originally wrote this fic in September and finished it late October 2019. It was one of the first fics I'd ever written for this fandom and it has remained the only multi-chapter fic I ever finished. For years I've been wanting to rewrite this fic, to fix the typos, change the clunky sentences, and include characters I'd introduced but didn't do anything more with. Mostly I want to re-share this fic. It sits at the bottom of my fic list on ao3 and I don't want this fic to be forgotten because it still means a lot to me 5 years on so over the next couple of days I'm gonna go through each chapter and rewrite certain parts. You can read the original on ao3 or you can just read this version. Anyway, this is getting long so Imma shut up now.

@today-in-fic | ao3

Summary: For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who's had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter One.

A cloud of heavy smoke rises from the four vapers, covering the clear sky above and littering it with stuffy grey puffs. People scramble up and down the dock, trying to keep family members together as they rush to get through the gates. Others stand there gawking at the ship. For those not boarding it’s simply a day out; The greatest ship ever built, the paper’s call it and those who live nearby wasn’t about to miss out on such a historic day as this.

Mulder stares at it, surprised at just how wonderstruck he is with it. He never put much stock in the rumours when it was being built, believing that she was just going to turn out as all those before her had. That the rumours were just that- rumours.

But he was wrong. Never in his life had he seen a ship as large as the one that towers over him.

He turns to Phoebe, reaching out for her hand as she climbs out of the cab.

“What do you think?” Mulder asks as he helps his fiancé down. “Do you think she’s impressive?”

To no one’s surprise, Phoebe only scoffs at the ship, its presence not changing her mood in the slightest.

“It’s not as grand as the Mauretania.”

Bill Mulder chuckles behind them, handing their luggage to his man-servant, Krycek as the boy passes them onto a baggage handler.

“It’s much bigger than the Mauretania,” he says, ready to quote every fact he had memorised from the London Herald about the ship. “And much more luxurious,” he adds.

Phoebe only huffs, clearly becoming uninterested in their current conversation.

“Careful Fox,” his father warns him. “Hard one to please, that one.” Mulder only manages an uncomfortable laugh already well aware at the difficulties that come attached to Phoebe Green.

With departure time approaching, they begin to make their way towards the ship, weaving their way through the crowds, Phoebe turning her nose up at every person not dressed to the nines, going as far as to dramatically balk and cover her nose as a lower-class foreigner runs across their path.

“Filthy immigrant,” Phoebe scorns at the innocent man. Mulder tries not to let his disgust show at Phoebe’s words; they are excused after all and Mulder rolls his eyes at the clear disrespect his people show towards those less fortunate.

“He’s just trying to get to the ship, Phoebe.”

“Yes, well, maybe he should hurry to a bath instead.”

Mulder ignores her words, instead guiding her through the swarming crowds.

“Honestly Bill,” Mulder’s mother pipes up. “We couldn’t have arrived here earlier rather than scurrying around the docks like rats?”

“I was all packed and ready to go,” Bill says and indicates to the pair in front of him. “It was those two who weren’t.”

Mulder sighs. If anything, it was Phoebe who they had been waiting for.

“We did try to hurry, Mother. Phoebe couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Phoebe scoffs once more. “It’s not my fault that you told me to change.”

“I just thought you would get too warm wearing black all day.”

“I’m in mourning Fox,” Phoebe cries. “The weather doesn’t change that.”

Mulder resists sighing again. Phoebe had been mourning for weeks now. The loss of their baby had brought on this spontaneous trip. Phoebe, having had enough London and “wanting to get away from all the bad memories” all but demanded that they leave for America as soon as possible. A chance for a new start, she told him afterwards. They could get married here and start again. Next thing Mulder knew, he was packing his bag and going back to a country he hadn’t seen since he was a child.

He felt trapped somehow, and it had nothing to do with the swarms of crowds. This was inside him. A cage or a hole he had put himself in. One he didn’t think he was going to get out of any time soon.

She’s been sitting on this bench for what feels like hours now. The stuffy bar overcrowded with sight-seers only now they’ve done the sight-seeing and only drinking is on their mind.

She was told ten minutes. Ten minutes and they would be looking for a ferry to take them back to Ireland. Dana was done with the place. Southampton was the same as everywhere else in England that they’d been- the same people, the same scorning looks they’d get no matter where they go, the same rejections. It’s only a number of times a person can hear ‘no’ before they never want to hear the word again.

Her brother, however, had other ideas. They only came into the bar to ask if there were any ferries available to take them home and somehow Charlie had managed to be roped into a game of poker by a bunch of Norwegians who spoke very little English between them.

The game had currently been going on for a lot longer than the ‘ten minutes’ she was promised.

Dana sighs, shifting in her seat to get comfortable. She’d order a drink if Charlie wasn’t currently gambling away their last penny.

“You lonely, love?” Dana turns towards the speaker. His cockney accent thickened by the slurring of his words. “Ye want sum comp’ny?”

He stumbles towards her, catching himself on the rickety table and smiles at his clumsiness. Dana attempts to shuffle further back into the bench, failing.

“I’m fine,” she says turning away and hoping the man would take the hint.

But he presses on.

“Are ye sure?”

“Aye. I’m sure.” She gets up before the man can say or do anything else, and heads over to Charlie’s table.

Her brother is in full concentration mode. Lip caught between his teeth, eyes scanning his cards and the card laying down on the table. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Countless of times Dana has watched him play, never learning from the mistakes he’s made in previous games. This gambling addiction he’s seemed to have developed has cost them a lot in the finance department, a cost that Dana is not too happy about.

She taps him on the shoulder.

“Charlie, I want to go.”

“Hold on a second…”

His tongue replacing his lip, Charlie gives one nervous glance around at his fellow players.

“Charlie, we need to go.” She tries not to sound like she’s whining, he’s her younger brother for God’s sake, a child, she shouldn’t have to whine.

Charlie ignores her, a smile breaking out across his face.

“I’m sorry, lads.” He places his cards on the table, his smile turning cocky as he reaches over to take his earnings. Dana spies two pieces of paper laying on top of the money.

A large hand grasps Charlie’s. His grin falls as he stares in fear at the man.

“He cheat!” The man yells. With his hand still firmly wrapped around Charlie’s arm, he yanks him forward across the table, his other hand a fist that falls down and smashes straight into his face.

“Charlie!” Dana yells as his body falls slump against the oak. The man backs off as the bar grows quiet, ignoring the winnings that fall onto the floor.

With all concern for her brother, Dana rushes to his side, her hand falling on his face, wiping away the blood that drips down from his wound. You fucking idiot…she thinks.

Charlie’s eyes open slowly, despite the pain he is grinning from ear to ear.

“I won, Dana,” he tells her gleefully. “We’re going to America.”

Dana frowns, bewildered for the moment at what Charlie could possibly be talking about until her eyes fall on those two pieces of paper that lay on the ground. Realisation sets in and she reaches down to pick them up, turning them over to read.

The words White Star Line stare back at her. She looks from the paper in her hand to the ship outside and back to Charlie.

“You’re…you’re not serious?” she asks in awe.

“Yep. Fucker put his ticket down as payment,” Charlie all but shouts still grinning.

Dana stares back at the ticket. She was really about to go to America, the Titanic being the ship to take her there.

“You’re gonna wanna be quick,” a man beside them tells them. He points to his clock on the wall. “Boat leaves in ten minutes.”

At that, Charlie hauls himself off the table as the two siblings begin pushing what money remains on the table into their only bag, not caring for the coins that had fallen onto the floor.

“Hurry up!” Charlie urges her as Dana ties up the bag. “Come on, come on.” He takes the bag throwing it over his shoulder and grabs his sister’s hand, dragging her out of the bar.

They weave their way through the people, Charlie up front and Dana falling slightly behind. She fists her skirt in her palms, pulling it up so as not to trip over it, keeping her eye on Charlie ahead of her and praying she doesn’t lose him.

They collide with everything; people, a cart selling vegetables, a horse and carriage until finally they make it, out of breath, and clutching at their tickets.

“Tickets?,” the crewman orders, his fingers making a grabby motion. They hand them over and snatches it out of their hands. His nose turns up when he reads the names.

“Leif and Ingrid Brevik?” he asks, sceptically.

Dana looks nervously at Charlie, worried that they had just got excited for their new futures only to be turned away at the doors once more.

“Aye, we’re Americans.” Charlie tells him doing nothing to mask his thick Irish accent.

The crewman gives once last glance at the ticket and them. Sighing and probably done dealing with steerage who’s English is minimal he accepts the tickets.

“Get in before I change my mind.”

Relieved, the pair rush in just as the crewman shuts the door.

They make their way down the crowded corridor. People stand looking at the various signs that point in directions of rooms, bathrooms, and general communal areas. They argue, an overload of different words muddled together to make one distorted language.

Dana isn’t paying attention, however. Her eyes switch from the number written down on the ticket to the numbers written on the doors either side of them. Charlie had gotten distracted, eyeing up every woman that they walked past and Dana had finally ripped the paper out of his hands. If he wasn’t going to find their room, she will.

She finds it eventually. 23, near the end of the corridor. Charlie eyes up Room 24.

“Reckon a lass lives in there?” he asks.

Dana focuses on unlocking the door, a sly grin appearing on her face.

“I hope it’s a fat old man with a foot infection.” She looks up only to see the look of disgust appear across her brother’s face and she laughs, gaining the reaction she was looking for.

The door opens to their room. A single bunkbed, a desk and chair with a lamp set upon it, and a chest of drawers are the only furniture that occupy the room.

Charlie shares her sentiments exactly: it’s perfect.

“Beats the cargo hold on a ferry.” He throws the bag onto the chair and proceeds to climb to the top bunk.

She stops him before he can claim it.

“Piss off, I get top bunk.” She grips the back of his shirt, yanking him off the ladder.

“Careful!” Charlie cries. “I’m already injured.”

“So move out the way before I injured you even more.”

He does as he’s told, not without pulling a face beforehand, and throws himself on the bottom bunk.

Dana lies down, thankful to be in a bed that actually feels like a bed and not a brick.

“Hey, Dana?” Charlie calls after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are you worried?”

Dana thinks for a second, curious as to what Charlie thinks she should be worried about.

“About what?” she asks.

Silence passes and she waits for an answer.

“Nothing,” Charlie says. “It’s nothing. We got nothing to be worried about.”

Despite being profoundly confused, Dana decides not to push it.

Another bout of silence passes and perhaps Charlie’s fallen asleep. At least that’s what she assumes until she hears his voice again.

“Hey, Dana?”

“What?”

“Do you still have that first-aid kit in the bag? My face is throbbing.”

A pack flops onto the floor beside his bed.

“Cheers.”

#the x-files #the x files #txf fic #xfiles fanfiction #titanic au #a jewel beneath the moonlight rewrite #scullysexualwrites

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sarandipitywrites · 11 days

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writing patterns tag game

rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

thanks for the tag, @adhdavinci! let's pretend this wasn't sitting in my drafts for a month 😅 go check out their lines here

passing the tag along (with no pressure) to @i-can-even-burn-salad, @macabremoons, @fanged-writer, @innocentlymacabre, @winterandwords, and an open tag for anyone who wants to share

sooo I'm gonna have to break some rules here bc I don't think I've even worked on 10 fics recently, much less posted them (not more than, like, a snippet at a time, anyway). so i'll start with what i've actually posted, then just... fuck it, we ball?

yeah that sounds good.

'Just stuff my dad into a bag,' she'd said. 'He'll fit, of course he will. Have you seen how small he is? He's bluffing, he won't really turn you into a fern,' she'd said. (Dead Roots, Dark Water, Ch 1)

For all his research, Daxter had never figured out who'd designed the Krimzon Guard Fortress. And it was a good thing, too, because if he ever did, he would shoot the architectural anarchist in the foot, run them over with a hellcat, and throw them in the port. Then he'd fish them out again just so he could shoot them in the face. (DRDW, Ch 2)

Magic and blood sit heavy on V’s tongue. (Untitled Cyberwitch WIP, Ch 1)

The silence amplified everything: the squeak of rusty nails in the boards beneath Luka's feet; the rat-a-tat rattle of the loose panes in the windows; Jules's unsteady breathing as they tapped on their phone; Luka's own stammering heartbeat. "I don't think we should be here." (I Am Alive)

I have always been here. (A Haunted Home)

'The monster is not your enemy.' A half-crushed note, faded and bled, written in his own hand: the only familiar thing in the room where Lienzo had awakened. (The Art of Empty Space (V2), Ch 1)

It was the pain that woke him. (TAES (V1), Ch i-don't-know,-i-didn't-section-this-thing-into-chapters)

The air coated his lungs in a thick layer of smog and exhaust, vapor and sweat and noise, cacophonous clanging competing for his attention. Engines, alarms, voices. Jak let them all in, let them bury him in a landslide of stimulation. It wasn't stale, silent, recirculated air. It was alive, and so was he. (DRDW, Ch 3)

Metal shrieked against metal. Violet paint streaked across the green of his speeder. Screaming. Crackling eco slugs reached out with staticky tendrils as they whizzed by. (DRDW, Ch 10)

The ocean breeze brought with it decay: rotting seaweed infested with sandflies; drowned fish with oil and eco caked in their gills; algae and mildew and rotting wood. Its icy fingers trailed goosebumps down his skin, cooled the blood beneath. (DRDW, Ch 13)

so, if we're looking for patterns, i think it looks like... i really like character voices; starting en media res; and starting with some really vivid descriptions. anything you guys see that i missed?

#writeblr tag games #writing patterns tag #my writing #the art of empty space #dead roots dark water #cyberwitch wip

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mostremote · 3 months

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Fic extract

Rough and silly fic extract (that I will not write in full) of a what-if-Snow-wasn't-executed-and-had-to-ally-with-Katniss-and-co-to-bring-down-Coin situation. And Snow is still obsessed with Katniss but isn't trying to kill her so he just follows her around being insane. And everyone hates that he's there but they need his insider knowledge so they just have to put up with it.

They gather around the table, low-lit, in the cramped underground bunker that serves as the meagre headquarters of the resistance. What was once the resistance against Snow is now the resistance against Coin — and there are so few of them left. Haymitch (reluctant chief strategist), Effie (preparing refreshments), Gale (sulking), Peeta (sulking with more gentility), Johanna (sulking aggressively), Katniss (grey-eyed, exhausted).

And, of course, their newest member: Coriolanus Snow.

Haymitch is stood in front of a board humming with electric blueprints, trying to explain the network of pipes that runs underneath the presidential mansion and the possibilities these might allow for breaking into Coin’s fortress. He is midway through explaining a particularly tricky juncture of pipes when Johanna interrupts him with a slap of palm on table.

‘I’m sorry, are we just going to ignore this?’ She gestures wildly at Snow. ‘Why is he here? Why is he on our side?’

Former-President Snow sits next to Katniss (weary face held aloft by one palm) as though there is nowhere in the world he would rather be. He has somehow acquired a ceramic cup of steaming tea.

‘My dear, I am the reason you have access to those blueprints,’ says Snow, very reasonably. ‘I may be your only chance of reaching Coin.’

This time, Johanna slams both her palms onto the table and Peeta jumps a little. ‘Why. Is. He. Here.’

‘I’m with Johanna on this one,’ says Gale, arms crossed and dour in his chair. ‘He’ll sell us out the first chance he gets.’

‘No, I won’t,’ says Snow mildly.

‘He won’t,’ echoes Katniss. She wishes she could get some sleep. The emotional turmoil of wrangling Snow has become a twenty-four-hour job. ‘We need him to get inside the mansion.’

‘He tried to kill you a dozen times!’ shouts Johanna.

‘That was because she was a threat to my regime,’ says Snow in that same pleasant, conversational voice. ‘I no longer have a regime, as I am sure you have noticed. Therefore, I have no reason to try to kill her.’

Johanna’s eyes meet Katniss’ with daggers. ‘He’ll kill you in your sleep.’

Katniss, who has spent weeks trekking the country alongside Snow, sleeping as far from him as she can and always clutching a knife, has woken many times to see Snow simply… staring at her. She would really rather prefer it if he went back to trying to kill her.

‘He’s here to help. You can trust him.’ Though who knows why?

Haymitch, grimacing, is keen to get this strategy meeting back on track. ‘Okay, so: one plan Gale and I developed is to come up from the sewers right next to the mansion. There’s only one camera, high up, which is where Katniss comes in.’ He taps the electric screen and a blurry image appears of the high mansion wall. A single black-eyed camera stares down. ‘If Katniss can land a shot on that, we’ll make a blind spot in their security of about twenty square yards.’

‘No way she can make that,’ says Johanna. ‘It’s fifty feet high. That’s impossible.’

‘Katniss Everdeen,’ comes Snow’s sudden, deep, commanding voice, ‘is the finest marksman in the Capitol, and perhaps the country. She has nigh-perfect aim. There is no one else who could make that shot as well as her.’

Everyone stares, perplexed, at Snow. He is glowing with pride. Katniss, mortified, tries to shield her face with her hands.

Haymitch forces a grin. ‘Great! Good to know.’

After an hour of poring over the rats’ nest of sewer blueprints, they are no closer to planning a route under the walls than when they began, and everyone is exhausted. When Effie appears, a tray of tea and stale biscuits in hand, everyone is grateful for an excuse to adjourn.

Snow helps himself to an iced biscuit. Effie doesn’t seem to know how to react to this.

Haymitch saunters up to Katniss and drops his mouth to her ear. ‘Can I have a word?’

Katniss will take any reason to get away from Snow for a few minutes, and so she follows Haymitch into a corner. He speaks in a low voice.

‘I gotta say, I agree with Johanna. I don’t like him being here. That man could kill us a thousand ways even without the help of his guards.’

She shrugs. It’s been almost a month since she had a real night of sleep, punctuated by neither nightmares of Snow nor waking to find him watching over her. ‘He’s not going to. I know it sounds weird, but I trust him. He’ll do what I tell him.’ Her brow creases. ‘He seems to, I don’t know… treat me like a daughter, almost.’

Haymitch emits a brash noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a howl. ‘Girl, your track record with understanding men is bad enough as it is. That man is not expressing fatherly feelings towards you.’

‘Huh?’ Katniss glances at Snow. Even from across the room, he is watching her, stirring his tea with leisurely joy. ‘What do you mean?’

Haymitch fixes her with staring, hooded eyes. ‘Katniss, I think the President likes you.’

‘What?’ She blinks. ‘He’s old enough to be my grandfather.’

Haymitch grimaces. ‘Ye-e-eah, somehow I don’t think that bothers him.’

They both look at Snow. He has still not taken his eyes off Katniss.

Gale, it seems, has also not taken his eyes off Snow. ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’

The room falls silent. Snow takes his time to answer: lifts the teacup, sips, replaces it. ‘I am looking at Miss Everdeen,’ he answers frankly.

‘We’re not just going to put up with this, are we?’ Gale shouts. ‘It’s Snow. Snow! He’s a murderer. He murdered your family, Haymitch, and you’re just putting up with it!’

Haymitch shrugs without passion. ‘I lost the will to care about a thousand bottles ago, Gale. And we need him.’

Gale stares, disbelieving, then quite dramatically draws his gun. Everyone clears out of the way, save Snow (unconcerned) and Katniss (exhausted).

‘We should put a bullet in his head right now.’

Snow smiles: calm, radiant, in total control. ‘If it’s any consolation, my boy, I have no more wish to be here than you do to have me here. Indeed, I have no interest in any of you, and little investment in the bringing down of Coin. I would be quite happy to live out my retirement in peace.’

‘Then what the fuck are you doing here?’ spits Gale.

Snow looks at Katniss, all smiles. ‘I’m here to accompany Miss Everdeen.’

‘Why?’

Snow does not take his eyes off Katniss and says, with total assurance, ‘Because I want to see what she does next.’ He takes a sip of his tea. ‘She is absolutely fascinating.’

No one says anything to this. Haymitch coughs awkwardly. Katniss is trying to melt into the floor.

#i think this is a rly fun scenario but i would not have the patience to write the whole thing

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 years

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snowdrop, part two

A/N: i stand by what I did. this man picks up everyone under the sun. it's fact. he might be a string bean, but he is a powerful string bean. gif used in the moodboard is by the always amazing @fightingdragonswithwho

summary: “It was incredible, even with the rain.”

warnings: Gideon!daughter!reader, reid wears glasses pre s1 because I said so (at least in this fic), smut, angst, rain, I finally used the classic can you unzip my dress trope, kissing, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, very little dirty talk compared to what I usually write

word count: 2811

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

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Part giggle and part shriek, you rushed inside your apartment building with Spencer’s hand clasped tightly in yours.

He had just meant to walk you home after the concert, but the sudden downpour caused you to sprint and not walk it.

“Oh my god,” squeaked out of you as you finally touched dry ground. Looking over at your date, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out. Fully aware that he probably looked like a wet rat about now, he joined in the giggle.

“What?” he sniggered, wiping his outstretched pointer finger over his rain-dotted glasses, clearing his vision.

You tried to choke out your answer though the determent laugh, but it was barely comprehensible, “you-… you-… look-…”

Your amusement only strengthened his own, “thanks,” he grinned, as you felt the cold droplets drip from everywhere. The tip of your nose, your hair, even running down your spine. “You look phenomenal too. Water really works for you.”

“Thank you,” you shut your eyes, trying to regain a bit of your composure.

“I had a lot of fun tonight. When you said that you’d planned something, I gotta say I was a bit nervous, but that was amazing.”

“Yeah, well, I remembered you saying that you love Mozart, so I couldn’t stand there and do nothing when the music majors were putting on a concert of no. 21,” you tightened your grip on his hand, not ready for the night to end yet.

“It was incredible,” he smiled, looking at you as if he was attempting to soak in the last bits of joy from this evening, “even with the rain.”

“I, um… Do you wanna come up for a bit? Just to dry off, or I could lend an umbrella or something?” you bit the corner of your lip.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” a sense of relief washed over you, “I mean, I would hate for you to get sick if I could in some way prevent it.”

“Okay, yeah,” he agreed, “you sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, come on,” you beamed and tugged him up the steep stairs.

“This is it,” you swung open the heavy front door to your dark apartment. Only the faint light from the stormy city outside painted the space with streaks and shadows. Finally letting go of his hand, you went to go turn on a few lamps. Slowly following you inside, he didn’t say anything, just took his time, taking in the space around him. “I’ll go grab a few towels, okay?” you announced as he closed the door behind him and gave you the smallest of nods, affirming your brief absence.

Moving with haste into the bathroom, you grabbed two towels from the stack in the cabinet. When you returned, you saw him standing over your dining room table, studying the chess board you’d abandoned mid-game.

“Here,” you handed him the pale blue one.

Only glancing up for a brief moment, ”thanks,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of the wooden board, “I didn’t know you played.”

“Yeah, I do,” you slowly started sobbing up the excess water from your hair, “my dad taught me.”

“We should play a game sometime.”

“I would love that, but fair warning, I’m not gonna hold back just because you’re you.”

“Good,” he looked at you with a bright smile, “I wouldn’t want you to.”

Glancing over his shoulder and out the big window, you asked, “do you maybe wanna just wait it out?” but felt your nose begin to tickle from the cold rain, “it might sto-, achoo, s-stop in a bit,” you sneezed mid-sentence.

“Sure, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother,” his head almost followed yours in empathy as you dove into your elbow, sneezing again, “bless you.”

“Wooh, thank you,” you scrunched up your face, hoping that was the last of it.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna change into some dry clothes? I mean, just, um, you’re cold and that-“

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you cut off his slight panic from the way his words could be misinterpreted, “I, um, I’ll go do that.”

Walking through the white French doors to your bedroom, you were so used to being on your own that the thought of closing them behind you didn’t even cross your mind. Plopping down the now damp towel on the top of your dresser, you opened up the top drawer and looked inside.

Slowly peeling off your drenched cardigan, you folded it up and laid it down next to the sage green towel. Left in your soft, sleeveless dress, you felt your wet hair caress your shoulders gently. Remembering the company that you still had, you felt a shiver go down your spine, secretly hoping that his eyes were still trained upon you, enjoying the show, since you’d left him in the eye line of where you stood now.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw his gaze hastily find something else to focus on, making you hide a smile.

“Could you maybe help me with the zipper?” you didn’t need the assistance one bit, but oh how you wanted it.

“Oh, um, yeah,” he sounded breathy as he rushed to aid you.

He barely even touched you, just gave the zipper a slow tug, as if your skin was on fire. Maybe there was a point to that. Feeling him this close to you, it was hard to ignore the rumbling flame deep within you.

When it slid down as far as it could go, you felt the air hit your back, but it was more so the soft seeking touch along your spine that made you shiver.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, holding up the loose dress to still cover you.

Slowly spinning around, you blinked up into his dark eyes, “you’re welcome,” he nearly whispered, as you watched his chest rise and fall rapidly.

Adjusting your grip, you let go of the dress with one hand in order to reach up and meet his cheek, lightly bringing him down so that you wouldn’t have to turn into a ballerina. Brushing your lips against his, you felt his fingers find your waist, tightening in the loose cotton draped around it.

As the kiss turned more heated, so did the touches. His palms slid down your bare back and only paused when they found your backside, grabbing a handful of it as you felt his sigh fan across your face, drawing you in that much closer.

You let out a low whine as you felt the soft fabric begin to rise, as he gartered it up in his grip. Pulling back, breathlessly, he asked, nudging his nose against yours, not wanting to lose the contact, “is this okay?”

“Yes,” you encouraged, letting go of the dress completely, sending it down your upper body and stopping where his fingers were still entangled in it. Quickly letting go, it dropped to the floor, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, dress now a puddle on the ground.

Standing now only in your undergarments in front of him, it took a moment before he kissed you again, completely entranced by the sight.

“You are so beautiful,” he muttered, as his fingers slowly explored your skin.

Gliding your hands down to the bottom of his sweater, you caught his ogling eyes before tugging it over his head. His skin was warm, oh so warm, like a fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Piece by piece, through curious hands and shy compliments, you slowly helped each other undress until you were both left in just your underwear. And like a moth to a flame, you kissed him again, feverishly.

You were so wound up in it all that you hadn’t even registered the way he backed you up until you bumped into the dresser, successfully slamming the open drawer shut. Pulling back with a small gasp, you giggled lightly.

“Sorry,” he apologised sweetly for his unintentional surge of strength.

“It’s okay,” you playfully caught his bottom lip between your teeth for a second.

Gliding his hands down to your hips, he fiddled with the elastic of your waistband. Keeping his eyes glued to yours, he slowly kneeled down before you. “Here,” he took off his glasses and handed them to you. Carefully setting them down on top of the dresser, your breath hitched at the feeling of his breath caressing your inner thighs.

His palm danced over your lower stomach, swiping his thumb lightly over the wet patch on your panties.

Becoming impatient, you did the job yourself and pulled your last remaining clothes off, coaxing out a low curse from him.

“Fuck… look at you…”

“You certainly are,” you exhaled shakily, wanting so desperately to just jump into the jump rope.

“Can I do more than look?” his hands tried to rest on each side of your hip.

The way that he looked on his knees, ogling up at you, you couldn’t squeeze a single word out, only nod.

Throwing your head back, you felt him shamelessly touch you, but not with his fingers, no, they were digging into everything he could reach, from your hips to your thighs, but with his mouth, his lips, his nose, his tongue…

Peaking your eyes open, you saw that he was still staring at you, head buried in between your thighs. “Holy fucking shit,” his tongue swept through your folds, nudging his nose against your puffy clit as he moaned, lapping up your abundant arousal.

“Spencer, please,” you fought the way your eyes wanted to roll back as he sucked down hard on your clit, “I wanna come on your cock,” pleadingly clawing for him to get back up, “I can finish on your tongue another day.”

“Promise?” he rose back up, swiping the back of his hand over the now glossy lower half of his face.

“Yes,” you scurried to tear his underwear off, cock virtually springing out and hitting him in the stomach, “please, I’m on the pill, is it okay with you if we just-“

“Yes,” he breathed out, rutting desperately against your palm as you reached down to touch him.

You let out a shakily, “o-oh,” as he finally filled you up, stretching you out so good that your bottom lip quivered. He then hiked your left leg up around him, rocking into you with slow, yet hard thrusts.

Both the clattering sound of small knick-knacks rattling on your dresser from the force of his hips, but also the lewd squelching noise of your pussy filled the apartment.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he smiled against your lips.

“Yeah, well, we were just out in the rain, so…”

“Shut up,” he replied lovingly, giggling as he pressed his lips against yours.

You felt the weight of your right foot lighten as he half lifted you up off the ground, desperately bouncing you up and down on his warm cock with surprising ease.

You didn’t care that the knobs on your dresser were digging into your back, all you could focus on was just Spencer. The sloppy, messy kisses, the impossible spots he managed to hit repeatedly, and the beautiful sounds he produced, transporting you to another dimension.

“Holy shit,” you felt your thighs shake around him as you couldn’t prolong the inevitable end any longer. Somehow noticing, so cued in on you and every little reaction you fed him, he snaked a hand down to rub your clit harshly, “holy shit!”

Burying your face in his shoulder, he practically manhandled you in the last few moments. Only blinking once and somehow you were now lying on the bed, Spencer bent over you, feet still on the ground, pistoling impossibly deep into you.

“Fuck,” he rumbled as you clamped down around him, being the cherry on top of his sunday.

Panting, it took around a minute before his hips stopped the torturously slow thrusts they kept up, long after the both of you finished.

Like two puzzle pieces, you just stayed there for a while, slowly becoming human again through soft touches and slow kisses.

“Spencer,” you smiled against his lips, “I have to go to the bathroom,” giggling, you tried to wiggle out of his tender hold, “you have to let go of me, I’ll be right back.”

Begrudgingly letting you go, he propped himself up onto his elbow and kept a close eye as you got up. Noticing how his vision caught sight of the load running down your thighs, he bit down on the palm resting against his cheek, just to restrain himself from jumping your bones again.

Snatching up the robe that was still draped across the messy chair in the corner of your room from your morning shower, you flashed him a cheeky grin before disappearing into your bathroom and leaving him alone.

When you returned, you didn’t find him in your bed, but now partially clothed, glasses back on, standing in front of your bookcase, completely still.

“Spencer, I know that you love to read, but even now, after that?” you teased, coming up to wrap your arms around his midsection, giving his shoulder blade a small kiss.

“Who’s that?” he didn’t move you welcome your embrace, just pointed hesitantly at the framed photograph nestled in between a few stacks.

“Oh, that’s my dad,” you smiled at the memories the picture evoked, “he’s actually the one who pulled a few strings and got me the job at the library after he started teaching at the school. I think I was maybe 11 in that picture? It was the first time he took me with him on one of his, as I called it as a kid, bird adventures up in his cabin.”

“That’s your dad?” his tone made you creep around to search his face.

“Yeah, why?”

Eyes locked on the photograph, he breathed out, “that’s my boss…”

“What?”

“That is my boss, that’s who, that’s why I’m at the school, he’s why…” he explained, looking rather dazed, just as you must have.

“Your name’s-”

“Spencer Reid,” he filled in, not in the mood for guessing games.

“You’re doctor Reid? The one that just started?” he nodded, making you feel as if you were losing everything before it had even begun. “Oh my god…” you backed up, “you’re him… I feel like I know you from everything he’s been telling me. I mean, he won’t shut up about you,” you slapped yourself mentally for not connecting the dots.

Your dad had never ever liked any of the people you’d ever dated, so imagine how he’d react if you came strolling up with his co-worker on your arm.

“It’ll be alright, Y/n,” Spencer said deliberately, “this doesn’t have to change anything.”

Turning your back to Spencer, facing the big window, you closed your eyes and tuned him out as he kept on pleading his case, simply trying to think.

“…I mean,” you started to register his voice once more, “I know he has a gun, but I don’t think he’d actually use it-“

“We can’t do this,” you concluded, cutting him off. “I can’t ruin your career before it has even begun.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Spencer,” you slowly turned to face him once more, “how serious do you think people will take you when they find out you’ve been banging the boss’s daughter since day one? You think you’ll be treated fairly? Get the same opportunities? They will stop at that fact and think that’s everything to it. Everything to you. They won’t think you worked as hard as you have to get where you are, to them, you simply slept with the right person.”

Tears in his eyes, he tried to reach for your hand, “Y/n… they won’t fixate on something like that-“

“Yes, they will…” you sobbed, “yes they will, because people are dumb and stupid and shallow, so they will, trust me, they will,” you spoke with certainty. Your dad was one of the founding members of the bau, he had raised you to know exactly how human beings ticked. Walking up, you gently grabbed the sides of his face and said, “you deserve everything this world has to offer. You’ve worked so hard to get what you have, don’t let me ruin it all. I care about you too much to stand in your way.”

“Y/n, I lov-,“ but before he could finish the declaration, you shut him up with a teary kiss.

“Please don’t say it. Please don’t. Just, grab your things and go, try and forget I ever existed-”

“Forget? Y/n, I have an eidetic-“

“Eidetic memory? Yeah, I know. My dad told me.”

The always talkative doctor did say another word, not even a single sound. All you could hear was deafening quiet and the rain, still in a fight with your windows.

The rain… it didn’t stop.

next part

#snowdrop #lea’s writing #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x gideon daughter!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid hc #spencer reid series

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aquanova99 · 4 months

Text

Remember your Roots

Felix Volturi x Reader

Final Part

Prev <<

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A/N: I’m back!! I am trying to put everything that’s sitting in my drafts but I’ve been visiting family so it took a while. I will be rewriting many of my original fics I wrote as I feel like I have somewhat improved lol, I hope you guys enjoy the final installment and sorry a million times over for taking so long!

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Felix’s POV

You almost rushed past her. You were shocked at careless speed at which she walked. As if she didn’t just completely jeopardize her well being. Perhaps she had merely hidden any confidence in what she and Sulpicia created, but the amount of pressure in that room… how dare she risk her life like that?

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I can.” She shrugs as she continues walking past you. Intentionally bumping into you and effectively surprising you. Your reflexes are faster, however and you find yourself latching onto her arm.

“Let. Go.”

“No. What if what you just drank kills you? What if it—”

“So what if it does? I lose nothing. At worst… Then Sulpicia is back to the drawing board. Its not any of your concern.”

“Of course it is! How can you say that? Do you have any idea what would happen to me—if you—god!” You try to take a deep breath and calm down. As quiet as you both may intend to be, everyone’s damned hearing would ensure a less than private conversation. “I was wrong…happy? You win. I’m worried.”

She shakes your hand off of her arm and you immediately look for any cracks or indication that you were too harsh. You start to mumble out an apology but she quickly interrupts, “Stop. Just—stop. I need to focus. This needs to work.”

“I—”

“We can worry about each other after this works…” She quickly retires to her quarters and closes the door. You stand frozen for several minutes trying to decipher exactly what she meant. Not exactly acceptance towards any sort of amicability, but no outright refusal. You stew over the words ‘we.’ Was that intentional? Could this have possibly been the first step in mending what you broke. You feel your body more or less shoved towards your own chambers, probably Demetri’s doing.

You spent the next few days waiting for some kind of adverse effect on Y/n. You kept silent. At this point you knew everyone had known how… protective you were over the covens newest addition. It was something you had tried to avoid. In the long run, you knew Marcus had probably long since told the other leaders how much you cared for her. The only problem is now, there was no denying it. It was leverage the volturi had never had over you. The closest relationship they had to be able to take advantage of was Demetri and even then…he wouldn’t keep you here. You were now stuck. An eternal life was meaningless without some sort of purpose, why else would he concern himself with the coven he had called home? They certainly hadn’t ben able to control him as a newborn, even now the strength had never faded. He was an asset he knew that much, the only way to stop him would be Jane or Alec, he would win against Dmetri and Caius if it came to it. Not that he wanted it to come to that. Not that he even wanted to leave. It was just something that had simply never crossed his mind. At least not before Y/n. If she left…would he follow her? Would she want him to?

“Felix.” Demetri interrupted his train of thought, “Seems we have a visitor.”

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Y/Ns POV

You wondered if your abilities would actually help at all. Apparently the entire volturi was needed for this. Everyone assuming a battle would be incoming, you seemed to be the only one wary of the informant. Why would she rat out her closest friends and allies? While it was no secret some of you may not make it, most everyone seemed confident this would be over quickly. You hated it. If this coven had gifts equaling your own, this arrogance could be your downfall. Everyone was gathered after the meeting with the leaders. Only Santiago was missing since he was more or less guarding Irina. In case she ran off, I guess. Not like her family wasn’t aware of the news at this point. The only one who seemed worried was, well…Felix.

You supposed there was a chance he wasn’t. You stood back behind everyone half listening to Demetri and Heidi. Demetri was debriefing on who all would be there, and what we knew about them. Felix was the only one sat, you knew everyone would keep their distance. He could be prepping himself, but as much as you wanted to speak to him you couldn’t. Partly out of spite, and partly because you were never sure where you stood with him. He seemed furious at you when you tried the tonic, genuine concern was etched over his face. The worst part is had been right. Sulpicia had grown bored of the same companions and quickly explained how everyone fit into the coven. You had come to know it was a warning, how Chelsea could force almost anyone to stay with their coven. How she could find what made some vulnerable to persuasion and others break apart over the most miniscule things. Sulpicia’s stories made you wary. How they could find who you cared about most and hurt them in ways unimaginable to you. You understood why Felix had warned you not to worry about him, not even for his own protection but yours. He would hate himself if anything happened to you because of his own account, so you did what you could do. You stayed away. As much as you could from everyone really, though as much as it would hurt only one person could break you.

To be fair, its not like you had anywhere else to go. You still had no memory of your life, and unfortunately for you, any snippets you may have had started fading more and more the longer you were stuck like this. Its partly why you were careless, the isolating was getting to you. You knew it was crazy the second Felix grabbed you, but admitting you were wrong was not your forte. Still, you didn’t want to go into this fight without clearing the air…

Fuck it.

You sat down next to him, you weren’t even sure he noticed. He seemed concentrated, every part of him seemed tense. His hands were crossed in front of him, his usual stance at trials. You tried to be as quiet as possible and avoid anyone trying to listen in on your conversation, which no doubt they would be.

“Felix.”

He stiffened, blinking at the sound of your voice cutting through the air. “…yes?”

“Will you walk with me?”

He nods and stands up, he offers his arm out to you. Out of habit, I think. He starts to apologize but you link your arm through hi before he can say anything and walk out towards the gardens. The snow is barely coating the courtyard, its beautiful. It’s a shame you have to worry about the law at a time like this. You should have worked on the garden earlier. The original plants you managed to grow were wilting, you try to not think about that as a sign and will yourself to grow plants that seem to thrive in the winter: snowdrops, camelias, hollies and anything else you can think of soon decorate the garden. You wish there were brighter flowers that could bloom but you enjoy some of the pinks that shine through.

“They’re lovely.” Felix says softly.

“Thank you. And thank you for coming with me.” I’ve missed this, you say to yourself.

“Is everything all right?”

“How are you feeling? With this fight?”

“Fine.”

“Are you really going to keep lying to me?” You didn’t mean to snap but if you were going to clear the air he needed to work with you. He looks surprised…and hurt and you quickly decide you would rather not bring up another argument. “Just forget about it—”

“No. I apologize. Its habit. I forget you always seem to see through it. Please.” He gestures to a bench and you sit. Still irritated at this whole situation.

“You can say you don’t want to talk about it. I would rather hear that honestly.”

“Yes. Except that isn’t exactly true, I just…I think somethings off.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Cullens and the Denalis…their whole thing is they don’t want to fight. Why would they protect an immortal child. And why would all of those other covens risk what their safety? I don’t like it…”

“Do you think they have an advantage?”

“They’d have to.”

“Okay. Why do I feel like that’s not everything?”

Felix sighs, “If they do have an advantage. With their gifts…I’ll be useless.”

The thought of them targeting him, him being at a disadvantage. You feel your stomach turn to lead. And then guilt gnaws at your heart for waiting for so long to have a conversation,

“Abilities only go so far. You are not useless.”

“If they have someone like Jane I will be. I wouldn’t be able to protect…anyone.” He becomes still again, its like you can see him thinking of every possible way he could fail. You hesitate and try to tell yourself to stop, but your body moves on its own accord. Your hand intertwines with his and you sit. Sit and wait. He returns your gesture but before you can say anything you hear the footsteps approaching you. Your heads snap towards the leaders and you know they cannot be bringing any good news. You notice you both aren’t moving, you know he’s anticipating something too.

“Y/n. We’ve been looking for you.” Caius starts

“I don’t imagine this is a good visit.” You feel Felix eyes glare at you.

“We have informed the others, they are all to think of the most absurd things possible. Songs, stories, rumors, anything. What we haven’t told them my dear is why. We need you to be ready to use your gifts, before any of the others realize whats happening.” Aro starts

“That’s why you’ve kept me in hiding? Whats the distance?”

“How close do you need?” Caius asks

“Depends, if I can dig my hands into the dirt its faster. I can visualize where everything needs to grow better. It would be obvious but with so many vampires I may be able to hide somewhere further. I would just need a clear visual.”

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Felixs POV

Away? As in away from the guard? What if they had someone waiting on the outskirts, you’d have no way of knowing. What if she needed you? You open your mouth to protest but Marcus jumps in.

“Theres too many variables. We cannot send anyone to scout out the area without calling attention to ourselves, it would give it away.”

“I’ll practice to see how quick I can grow them if I focus. But you realize I wont be able to think about anything else?” You want to shush her, warn her to be careful of who shes dealing with. You know you are likely on thin ice after staring down the leaders instead of standing up and acknowledging their presence. But she remains unphased.

“Its why we are hoping to distract them.” Aro smiles

“You don’t want them to think about random things. Assign them a person. And have them focus on how they plan on taking them down. The mind reader needs to think I’m the least of their worries. Have them think of the worst they can do, the stronger ones should focus on the mind reader, his mate, and child. So long as they know their actual target it should be distracting enough to at least confuse him.”

Caius grins, “I like the way you think, child.”

You didn’t. If they realized what was happening she would be the first one they were after. Which means you are already going against their plan, all you are going to be able to think about is her safety. You refuse to let go of her hand.

“Well, then I should start practicing. I trust you will tell the rest of the guard the plan?”

“What they need to know.” Caius answers.

She only nods and the leaders leave without so much of a glance in your direction. You could hardly form a singular thought. Your mind racing to try and find a favorable outcome. Would the leaders force you to hang back, far enough away you wouldn’t be able to run to her if something happened?

“So. This will be fun.” She starts. You know shes trying to calm you down but you can still hardly form an articulate sentence. Not now. “I’ll be fine, Felix. We both will be.”

She squeezes your hand, signaling its time for her to practice. To leave you. “Lets go out to the fields. You can practice the distance there.”

“Okay.”

You practice until its time for you to depart. Y/n was a fast learner. And she had settled several of your worries. Not all, but several… well at least enough to know she could in fact handle herself. You both silently seem to agree to start over. And, frankly, you couldn’t be happier. The flight over was silent, but you refused to leave her side. Even if you didn’t say anything you needed to know she was still there. You would both make it out of this somehow. You weren’t one to back out of a fight, but if it was really hopeless would you run? Make sure Y/n got out of there? You had told her once you would ensure she made it out… and you always were a man of your word.

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Y/n’s POV

Felix was right. They were hiding an advantage. As the blond vampire swore everyone was a witness, the wolves descended. If these were children of the moon, they had been somehow subdued, maybe ready to take out the threat that almost eradicated their kind. You can hear several people step back. Demetri usual smirk is dead serious. Caius looks more furious than ever. And Felix…while his expression is neutral you cant help but notice his hand graze the scar that had still painfully reminded him of his past. You fight the urge to go over to him and grab his hand. You would not show any weaknesses here. You take a deep breath and refocus on the new hurdles your coven may have to jump. You decide you’re glad Felix chose against the tonic.

The application had proved to be difficult, Sulpicia had several people hold Caius down as she reopened some wounds before lathering your creation on it. You would never forget his screams as his skin broke like porcelain. You couldn’t imagine the pain. After cursing you and Sulpicia everyone had noticed how much happier he seemed. Heidi told you shed over heard how it felt as if the pain was slowly diminishing day by day until it was gone. It worked.,,but you knew it was something Felix would rather live with. And truthfully, no one would have volunteered to hold him down anyway. Now, the pain surely radiating from his arm would hopefully garner him to be more careful. Maybe even hesitant, it was better than him willing to sacrifice himself in order to fulfill his purpose or whatever.

You are snapped back to attention as Alec grabs Jane. Her gift, always useful in negotiations was ineffective. Meaning they had a shield. Not good. However, shields you’ve learned, are always either mental or physical. You notice the vampire with almost golden eyes, different from the the others up front. You can only assume that’s Bella. You focus as hard as you can sprouting the tiniest blade of grass through the snow. One of the wolf creatures twitched but disregarded it. Perfect. You force a vine to begin growing behind you, it wraps around your ankle and continues growing. You feel it climb up your back and then wraps around your arm. When it reaches your fingertips you know every dormant root in this field. The leaders had been right. Your gift would be useful. You are not going to let anyone go through what Felix endured, what Caius endured. No one would make it across this field. Not without permission. You would make sure of that. Now you wait.

And luckily you don’t have to wait long. Two vampires give a statement and then leave hurriedly. Your eyes scan every huddle. Separating themselves into their respective covens was a stupid mistake. You see a man and woman clutching a small girl. The irish. Demetri had told you how defensive they had been. One. You look at the wolves, one of them almost eager to start an actual fight. Two. You notice the big black one, he had growled at them when they first joined the clearing. Three. You wait a little longer. The child whose heartbeat becomes clearer with every step they take closer makes you pause. Irina had been so sure… but your new coven came first. After they head back to their group you Caius has run out of patience. You and Felix lock eyes for a moment as Irinas life has come to an end. Then you hear the screams. And Edward makes the mistake of letting you know who has the ability to blind them. Four. As you see the blonde ones mate fall to the floor with her you decide she will be your last target. Five.

You choose a combination of Foxglove, hemlock, and devils breath for the first three. For four and five you decide to go with a mixture of nightshade, poppies, and peyote. The Irish are the first to back away. The scream is unlike anything you’ve ever heard of.

“Maggie? Maggie!!” Her eyes have no hatred in them, only fear. Fear of losing her child due to her own decisions. Fear of losing what she holds most dear. Welcome to the club, you think.

“Wait! NO!” Edward growls.

The two wolves fall, one twitching and the other immobile. The bigger one in the front begins snapping some kind of order but the two wolves are picked up and their pack disperses.

Then the screaming comes from four and five. You’ve heard the hallucinations you can give off are no joke. They really should have picked their battles more wisely. You are almost surprised how detached you seem from all of this. Except for the little one in the Irish coven, everyone chose to be here. Had they wished to be witnesses a phone call surely would have sufficed. The blond tries to step forward again.

“Aro, please. Lets settle this calmly.”

“Oh I have no idea what you old friend, I gave no orders for this to happen.” His voice is laced with sarcasm, although technically he wasn’t lying. He told you to be watchful, I doubt even he expected this. “Siobhan, Liam please bring Maggie, we can assure you she will be fine.”

The man hesitates, but Siobhan only shakes her head at Carlisle before rushing over. You look at Aro and he waves a finger in a circle. The vine retracts and both hands extend out to your sides, no use hiding it now. The field is surrounded by flowers of different colors, but it is winter so you have to focus to ensure the cold doesn’t kill them off. Sulpicia holds her arm out towards the irish coven and they quickly follow. Desperate to help their loved one, not caring if it meant certain death for themselves, you decide to like them. You can apologize later. Aro asks Bella to return with them to Volterra, just to ensure her and the child wont be an issue. She looks around panicked, the remaining Egyptian covens have fled, the Denali are trying to fix their blonde friend without getting too close. Senna is almost cradling Zafrina as she tries to clear her head. There isn’t much of an escape route now.

“B-but…”

“Bella darling, lets go.”

“Oh no, Edward. Just the two.” The brown wolf seemed ready to lunge, and you decide to knock him out for safe measure. Bella grabs the child but her eyes are looking for any way to escape. Not a likely option without risking her child’s fate. You make it a point to have a vine rise up to the childs height. Harmless, but I doubt she would know. As she takes the tentative steps forward you can feel the flowers wilting. You focus on their growth, just a little longer…just until the leaders come to a conclusion… You can barely hear Carlisle and Aro speak. Something about this never intending for everything to turn out like this. You can hear the screaming from the other blonde who was still furious at the inability to regain control of her mind. Carlilse explains something about the giant creatures who had stood beside them. Aro and Caius agreed to leave them alone unless they cause anymore trouble. Apparently everyone was done with this stupid meeting.

You try not to buckle when Aro finally gives you the signal. Your vision is spotty and you feel like you could collapse any moment.

“You did well, Y/n.” Aro smiles, “Felix.”

He immediately appears next to you, “Yes?”

“You two take up the rear, just in case. Make sure Bella is following.”

“Of course. We’ll have a good time.” He smiles at Bella and slightly bows his head. You try and stifle the chuckle that escapes you. He certainly knew how to play his role. Athenadora comes and scoops Renesme from Bella.

Before she can protest Athenadora smiles, “Sorry, cant have you running off though.” She turns to the child and continues, “Come on, sweetheart, you’ll see your mommy soon I promise.”

As this is happening Felix gets closer offering his arm in case you need it. You shake your head and squeeze his hand before setting it back down at his side. You try and focus on the woman joining you on your flight. She looks back at her coven, as if debating whether she would rather be with her mate or her child. You follow her eyes, noticing how the bigger vampire in their coven and Carlisle continue to hold him back. They try and get him to calm down but you can see him unraveling. Bella takes a step forward him and he starts screaming for her. Felix steps in front of her arms crossed and shakes his head. She takes the same step back.

“Bella! No! Let go of me! BELLA!” He’s growling when suddenly everyone stops and looks towards the other vampire suddenly appearing at the edge of the clearing. She’s a small thing with another taller man behind her. She looks like if she could cry she would. Wherever she was she’s too late. Bella seems to realize some kind of betrayal because her face turns to stone, she hisses under her breath and turns around towards her child. You and Felix only look at each other for a second before deciding to make sure she goes towards the rest of the coven. They could deal with her later. You can hear the commotion behind you confusion, anger, demands to know their location. The diet must slow the others down because your on Bella almost immediately, she doesn’t try to escape, in fact she is silent the entire way to Volterra. Only rubbing the back of her child in a meek effort to comfort her. Sulpicia gave the Irish coven a “cure” for their daughter. She will probably wake in less than a day, you made sure she was the least affected.

Felix sits next to a window, he leans over as close as he can to your ear and says “You did well.”

After that its silence. He only stares out the window, pensive. You would think he was mad at you if his hands weren’t firmly intertwined with your own. You can only hope this is only because of the many vampires around. You hate when he lets go upon descent.

Everyone disperses when you land. The leaders decide to speak to Bella immediately, they instruct Heidi to get her a room read, for Demetri and Santiago to stand guard during their meeting, and dismiss everyone else. Thank God. You’re tired of playing the bad guy today. You start to make your way to your own room when Felix reaches out for your hand and gestures towards the direction of the sanctuary you once found. You agree and head over there. While mostly empty now it is still remains eerily peaceful. Like your presence alone would ruin its beauty, like any disturbance could turn this paradise into a waking nightmare. Seemed to match the energy after today.

You barely had time to ask Felix what the matter was before he enveloped you. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispers.

You don’t hesitate to return the affection you finally allow yourself to admit you were craving. When he does pull back he just as quickly scans your face before his lips lock onto yours. You return that too, trying to convince yourself you hadn’t thought about doing this for months. His lips were soft against yours and warm oddly enough. You push against him, not wanting this moment to end. He allows it, only breaking it once.

“I’ve missed you…so much.” He groans in between breaths

“Me too…” Because you have. It was ridiculous to think that you would simply not worry about one another, you two were linked together somehow. The only thing staying away from each other did is cause unnecessary amounts of pain. You needed to control your pride, handle your ego. Apparently you both did, but at least Felix had come to the realization sooner. You pull away, the very least you could do is tell him you were wrong.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shut you out like that.”

“Don’t. I was the one who started all of this, you were still acclimating and I only made things worse.”

You chuckle, “Yeah our communication needed some work.”

“I think you’re right. But we do have time to get better.”

“That’s true.” You smile at him

“Y/n… you should know uhm—I think I should tell you. Theres a reason we feel so… drawn to eachother. I think theres a chance—”

You shut him up by kissing him again, “I know. Heidi told me all about it. She says its up to us to reject it or not.”

He sighs deeply, “I’m going to kill her.”

You cant help but to laugh, “You thought she’d be able to keep it a secret? I Figured you would tell me when you were ready…or you rejecte—”

Its his turn to shut you up, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. That…we’re okay now?”

You nod. “Of course.”

And you mean it. Any lost memories you mourned seemed unimportant when you could focus on making new ones. Especially now that the two of you were back on speaking terms. The two of you find a spot and sit in silence for hours. Just soaking in eachothers company.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“What if we didn’t go back?”

You freeze, “Felix. That’s your home, your family.”

“I know. But you would be happy there? Truly?”

“Is that what your actually worried about?”

“ Partly. Today was a lot. You shouldn’t have to expend yourself like that, and you’ve frankly painted a large target on yourself. What if…what if we don’t get so lucky next time. I’m supposed to protect the leaders. I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Felix, if Aro finds out…no. You’ll do your job, okay?”

“If it were only that simple…” You both snap towards Caius’s voice, Felix threw you behind him a low growl coming from his throat. “Oh honestly, Felix. You think Marcus wouldn’t tell us about the bond between you two? Not that it wasn’t glaringly obvious.”

Felix didn’t move. The thought of anything happening to him because of you makes you want to hyperventilate. They wouldn’t get rid of you, you knew that but to force him to stay or hurt him to convince you broke you.

“Both of you relax,” he continued, “Nothing is going to happen to either of you. I know all about how strong this mate bond is, obviously. You two will be called upon, often I assume. But we have enough with Jane and Alec to get the information we need, and if we get Bella to cooperate…”

“I don’t want to leave. I think everyone could maybe rotate some time off? You guys have been working seemingly nonstop. You can still call upon us of course, but… this coven is where we both belong. I’m not worried about any other fights. I think I’ve proven I can be useful.”

“Yes, that is true. You shouldn’t worry about protecting your mate Felix. We would all do it if it came to that. I do, however, suggest not trying to just avoid your duties?”

You have to nudge Felix to get him to relax, this was not a conversation he was expecting to go well. You can see him analyzing everything, thinking of every possible outcome. “I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Bella mentioned something about the mind reader so wait a few days and you can go.” He turns to head back to the castle, “and lets not have anyone know about this conversation. I have a reputation to upkeep.”

“Of course,” You answer and grab Felix’s hand. Still, Felix doesn’t relax until he’s sure Caius is gone, “You can breathe now, Felix.”

“That was too easy. Why would they do that?”

“You really think that after years of being with them they wouldn’t be even a little sympathetic towards you? I told you before. You’re more important to this coven than you realize. I’m sure they’ve noticed more than you think.”

“Hm.” He still seems pensive… sad

“Lets go home, we can decide where we want to go after the mission is truly done. It’ll be an adventure.”

“Okay.” You take your time, worried about what other news the youngest vampire had brought them and excited for the new life they had in front of them. But your first and biggest obstacle might just be having to explain to Heidi and Demetri exactly what just happened over the last couple days. It was going to be a long night.

~●○°●○°●○~ ~●○°●○°●○~ ~●○°●○°●○~

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @artaxerxesthegreat @aunt-pipie @imtoanonymousforyou @jelly-fishy-babie @lacychick @quarthly @venusdelaroix @volturiwolf @xcastawayherosx

#aquas works #felix x reader #felix x y/n #felix volturi x you #felix volturi imagine #felix volturi x reader #felix volturi

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chaotic-super · 6 months

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Live With Me - Chapter 20 (The Final Chapter)

Read the full fic on AO3 here!

Kara hums thoughtfully, prompting Lena to turn her head toward the reporter working tirelessly on her laptop at the kitchen island.

“What is it?”

“I’m just going over the list Cat compiled of all the main conspirators of the government subterfuge, and I thought I knew all of these people inside and out because of all my research, but there’s a name here that I don’t recognize.”

Lena frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as she stops putting the dishes away so she can move to peer over Kara’s shoulder. “What’s their name? Maybe you just can’t remember.”

Kara pins her with an unconvinced look, her lips pouted a little in annoyance. “You think I would forget someone after spending as many hours as I have pouring my soul into this research?”

Lena rolls her eyes at her fondly as she presses her lips to the crown of Kara’s head before settling her eyes on the document strewn across her keyboard. “Which name?”

“This one.” Kara taps just below the name in question.

“Veronica Sinclair. Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in quite a while.”

“You know her?”

“Knew.” Lena corrects. “I’m not surprised to see her name on a list of corrupt people though. Last I heard, she was running a cock fighting ring and a cock fighting ring.”

Kara frowns. “You said that twice. It’s the same thing.”

“No.” Lena raises a brow. “It’s not.”

“What?” Kara turns to look into Lena’s eyes, and when she does, she finally understands. “Oh! Oh…only one of those is illegal though.”

“Well, it’s not considering the fact that in both cases, the losing cock gets put down.”

Kara’s eyes grow wide. “And she got away with that?”

“She’s always gotten away with terrible things. She’s vindictive too. I’m surprised she didn’t manage to slip through the cracks this time. It’s a wonder she’s even shown up on this document. I knew her in boarding school, and she ratted out every girl who so much as looked at a joint, but she was the heaviest smoker there and never saw the inside of the detention hall.”

“Of course. One of those people.” Kara grimaces, staring at the name on the page with disdain.

“Pretty good kisser though.”

Kara’s head whips back at Lena. She’s greeted by an amused smile. “That’s not funny.”

“It is. I love it when you get a little bit jealous.”

“I’ll make you eat those words later, baby.” Kara murmurs.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Lena leans in to kiss her softly before she pulls back and clears her throat. “Anyway, what document is that?”

“It’s the list of all the people who either already sponsored the plan for the hell facility or people who had commitments to it.”

Lena’s eyes furrow as she reads through the list. “Most of these are heads of companies or are from mega-rich families. They’re not all government officials. That makes me think they planned for it to go private after a while.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning all the people on this list were doing it for money. They were willing to experiment, torture and probably kill people for a buck.”

Kara shakes her head. “I wish I could line them all up and punch them in the face one by one.”

Lena squints at her. “That’s…ok. I think they’ll get their just desserts anyway, darling. Most of these people have either been arrested or demoted to such a low level of power that they’d have to beg for change to buy jumper cables if they want to experiment on anyone.”

Kara hums. “High population area and they might have enough within a couple of weeks.”

“Maybe don’t take that analogy seriously.” Lena chuckles, squeezing Kara’s shoulders before she steps away to finish putting the dishes away. “Are we still going to CatCo today?”

Kara starts shuffling the documents into a neat pile. “I think so. Cat wants to have a little party to celebrate the end of this nonsense. She’s convinced that now the government is having a major reshuffle, all of our focus, and the world’s focus, will be on that rather than everything that happened. It’s over.”

“I don’t think it’s something the world will forget.” Lena offers.

“I know, it’s too big to be forgotten. I guess it just makes me feel a kind of way knowing that all of this crap can happen and the world moves on. Just like that.”

Lena sighs. “I know. The good part of people moving on is that there’s no longer a flock of reporters and photographers outside our front gate though.”

Kara tries her best to suppress a smile, but it springs free, full of fondness. “That is a good thing. It means we can have more privacy now.”

“Privacy or privacy?”

“Both.”

“I think I need a demonstration.” Lena smirks.

Kara stands and stalks over to her, bracketing her arms against the counter on either side of Lena’s hips. She leans in until her lips just barely brush against Lena’s. “Later, baby. We’ve got to get to CatCo.”

And then she’s gone.

Lena blinks, shocked by how quickly Kara just retreated. She’s definitely going to get her own back at Kara later. If she can feel her legs after Kara’s had her turn anyway.

“To all of the wonderful staff here who have worked tirelessly on this case, I thank you.” Cat holds up a champagne flute slightly above her head. “And to Kara Danvers, the lead reporter on this case and our new Editor-in-Chief.”

Kara stares at her in shock, her eyes wide and her mouth open unattractively. “What?”

Cheers surround her, followed by the clinking of plastic champagne flutes and loud slurps. Lena wraps her arms around her waist and gently taps her chin, prompting her to snap her mouth shut. “Congratulations, darling.”

“I’m…what?”

“You’re the new Editor-in-Chief. The contract is on your desk; please sign it by next week, although I would prefer you do it today so you can get it to Tina in HR before she goes on Maternity leave. I wouldn’t say I like her replacement very much. Too many teeth.”

“What does that even mean?” Kara shakes her head. “Wait, why am I being promoted to Editor-in-Chief? There are people here with more experience than me.”

“But nobody with more dignity and integrity,” Cat says with a rare, genuine smile before she hugs her loosely. “Congratulations, Kara. I would offer you Snapper’s old office, but I have a feeling you’d like to keep your own.”

“Well, with all those lovely memories of us keeping each other company in there, how could I leave it behind now?”

Cat almost snarls as Kara brings up their office-sharing sessions. It doesn’t matter how big the office is, she’s never sharing a space with anyone again if she can help it. “I still have nightmares about it.” She turns on her heel and stalks away. This champagne is far too cheap for her. She’s got some nice scotch in her office she can drink instead, and she’s not sharing with anyone.

Lena squeezes Kara tightly from behind. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Lena, I’m the new Editor-in-Chief.”

“I heard.”

“Lena, I’m going to be in charge of a load of people and I’ll get to choose all my own stories.”

“I know.”

“Lena, this is amazing.”

“It’s incredible. You’re incredible.” Lena whispers in her ear moments before Nia comes running over with the world's biggest grin to come and congratulate her.

“Have I ever told you that I have a thing for bossy women?” Lena gasps as Kara pins her against the wall just inside their front door.

Kara ignores her for a moment, continuing to ravage her neck until Lena’s fingers curl into her hair just a little too tightly. “What?”

“I like bossy women.” She reiterates.

“I was the least bossy person ever when we met,” Kara argues.

“You were in spirit.” Lena tries to connect their lips, but Kara leans back.

Shaking her head, Kara can’t wrap her mind around Lena’s words. “Did you not like me when I was still just a nervous cub reporter?”

“I loved you,” Lena reassures her. “But I loved it when you stormed into my office every now and again with that air of arrogance I’ve only ever seen a couple of times before. It’s what really solidified my feelings for you.”

Kara groans. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize my appointment was for the Wednesday, not the Tuesday. I thought everyone was just being a bitch and not letting me up to see you.”

“I know. I loved it.”

Kara burrows herself back into Lena’s neck, huffing until she decides to give herself something to take her mind off it. She latches her mouth back onto the sensitive skin of Lena’s neck. “You’re a menace.”

“Thanks, but can I be a menace in the bedroom? This isn’t the most comfortable.”

Kara pulls back and smiles darkly. “I’ll meet you there. I’m going to get us water; we’ll be in there for a while.”

Lena pulls herself together enough to stumble to the bedroom. Kara’s going to be the death of her tonight, and she’s certainly not complaining about it. She gets into the room and doesn’t think twice before she starts pulling off her clothes until they’re all in a heap on the floor, a problem for tomorrow.

She sets herself up on the bed, sitting up against the pillows, her eyes closed and her ears straining to listen out for Kara.

Kara makes her wait, and Lena’s sure she does it on purpose. It doesn’t take long to go into the kitchen and then come upstairs, but the time it takes Kara to do exactly that feels like it drags on for eternity. It’s torturous and she’s sure that Kara knows that.

When she finally slips through the door, she has water bottles balanced in one hand and a bottle of wine with two wine glasses in the other. She sets them all down on the nightstand with a flourish, barely even looking Lena’s way the entire time, a fact that infuriates the ravenette.

Lena clears her throat, but Kara still doesn’t look. “What’s wrong, baby? I’m getting you a glass, don’t worry.”

She clears her throat again, and this time, Kara turns to her, a full glass held out to her, looking her dead in the eyes. That’s nice and all, but she’d really prefer if she’d look at her boobs.

“Thanks.” Lena reaches over and takes it before settling her eyes on the wall. Two can play that game. She takes a long sip of the wine, humming softly. “This is good. Perfect for celebrating.”

Kara nudges her way onto the bed, crawling over Lena until she’s straddling her waist. It’s then that Lena realizes that Kara didn’t bother pouring herself a glass of wine despite bringing herself a glass.

“Are you not having any?”

“I was going to, but why would I do that when there’s something so much tastier right here?”

Lena gasps as Kara grinds her hips down into hers. “You’re going to play dirty, aren’t you?”

“Me?”

“You.” Lena hits her with a pointed stare.

“I’m a perfect angel, I’d never do that. I’m totally not just getting back at you for what you did to me with the crossword puzzle and for trying to make me jealous.”

Lena groans inwardly. It’s one thing for Kara to be in control, it’s another to have Kara be in control when she’s being petty. She’s going to suffer, and god, she’s excited.

“Well then, little miss perfect angel, you look thirsty, why not take a drink?”

Kara eases off her to stand beside the bed. As she slowly reaches behind her to unzip her dress, she smiles playfully over her shoulder. “What’s the rush, baby?”

Lena’s not giving in. “I’m not rushing. Need help with that?”

Kara sits on the edge of the mattress to allow Lena to snatch the zipper of her dress and slowly ease it down. “Thanks.”

Taking another drink of her wine, Lena’s eyes don’t leave Kara as the dress is shrugged off, leaving her in her underwear, which are also quickly discarded. Her eyes are instantly drawn to the scars on her stomach and back, but not because they’re ugly. Of course not. No part of Kara will ever be ugly. No, she stares because they’re just a sign of how hard Kara fought to stay with her, to not give in when death came knocking. She’s here to stay.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Kara’s act drops momentarily as her chin drops to her chest, her skin flushing a light pink that makes her look far too innocent, a stark contrast to the filthy plans she has for them.

Lena pats her bed beside her, expecting her to come and settle next to her. Kara has other plans though. She stalks around to the bottom of the bed before crawling up the mattress slowly, parting Lena’s legs as she goes until she’s got them wrapped around her hips and their faces are level.

“Hi there.”

“Hey.” Lena’s voice comes out raspier than she intends, but Kara’s eyes darken at the sound, and she’s not about to complain about that.

“Take a sip.” Kara urges her.

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to want to be hydrated. We wouldn’t want you to get a dry throat with all the moaning you’re about to do, would we?”

Lena has to suppress a moan at the thought. She downs the rest of the glass and shoves it onto the nightstand beside the bottle before shuffling down further on the bed, letting her head rest against the pillows. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“I will, don’t worry.” Kara seals the promise with the world’s filthiest kiss, all teeth and tongue.

Lying beneath her, Lena just takes it, enjoying every ounce of passion Kara is feeding her and allowing her to taste the wine on her lips and tongue, giving her something to have in mind when comparing her taste against the other wonders of the world.

Kara leaves her breathless before trailing her mouth down her pale skin, the remains of her lip gloss smearing across her chest on the way to her favourite pair of twins, the ones she struggled so hard not to look at earlier, all in the name of teasing. Now, she gets her chance to get properly reacquainted with them.

She licks over one nipple before taking it in her mouth, sucking gently for a moment before switching to the other one, not letting either be neglected for long.

Tangling her hands in Kara’s hair, Lena urges her further down, impatient to feel those lips where she really wants them. The sexual tension in the car from them trying to keep their hands off each other on the way back in the name of safety was enough foreplay for her. This is all just pure torture now.

“Kara, please hurry the fuck up.”

She feels Kara’s lips curl up against her stomach. “Well, that’s not a very nice way to ask for what you want.”

“Kara…” Lena whines.

“But you did say ‘please,’ so I guess I can let it slide.” Kara kisses just below her belly button before she lowers herself down fully, her mouth finding her pussy much quicker than Lena was expecting, forcing her to inhale harshly.

Kara gets right to work, her tongue lashing her clit and her arms stretched up so she can tug her nipples.

Lena’s fingers remain buried in Kara’s hair, not to pull it or direct her, purely to keep her doing what she’s doing, to beg without begging.

Kara hums against her. “Fuck, I was right. You taste a thousand times better than the wine.”

“You never even had a proper taste.” Lena gasps.

“It’s no contest. I don’t have to have a proper sip to know.” Kara brushes her off, eager to stop talking so she can get back to what’s important, namely, Lena’s pussy. She hums happily as she tastes the delicious wetness waiting there for her, and she knows she isn’t about to go easy on her. This isn’t going to be some slow and sensual lovemaking. This is Kara showing Lena who’s boss. This is fucking. Celebratory fucking, but fucking nonetheless.

Lena’s head falls back as fingers make themselves known, gently prodding around until two slip inside her like they were made to be there. Her back arches as Kara starts thrusting them before Lena can even wrap her mind around the fact that she’s being filled.

“Jesus motherfucking Christ.”

“I never knew Jesus had a middle name.” Kara jokes with a grin, annoyed when she peers up to see Lena’s reaction but finds her with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. “Now, now, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes I love so much.”

Lena is unaware of anything other than those fingers pressing inside her so nicely.

“Lena,” Kara says, this time adding a little more weight to her words, the contrast prompting Lena to answer.

“What?”

“Look at me.”

Lena shakes her head.

Kara sighs, slowing her fingers to a stop. “You’re being a little brat tonight. Look me in the eyes or we’re done for the night. I’m not playing games with you tonight. Don’t you want me to have a good time? After all, we are celebrating my promotion.”

Lena whines at the loss of movement and the disappointed pout on her girlfriend’s face. She could handle it if Kara looked mad or annoyed, but she doesn’t. She’s just disappointed and that hurts. Even in the abyss of her overwhelming need for Kara to stop driving her up before stopping for annoying reasons, she needs that look to disappear.

She stares down into Kara’s darkened blues, noting the glisten of her chin where she’s soaked from how needy she is. “Ok, ok.”

“Say please.”

Lena resists the urge to roll her eyes and just force Kara’s mouth back onto her clit. “For fuck’s sake, please. I’m begging.”

“Whatever you want.” Kara grins up at her sweetly. Too sweetly.

Whilst maintaining as much eye contact as Lena can manage, Kara ravages her. Her fingers slam home in time with harsh sucks and nibbles, sending her careering into her first orgasm of the night.

Through it all, she desperately wants to close her eyes, throw her head back, and just feel. That’s not an option though, not tonight. Kara’s eyes are locked so firmly onto hers that it feels like it would be a crime to stop looking at her.

Kara doesn’t stop after the first orgasm; of course she doesn’t. It would be a crime not to give her at least two. She’s earned that much over the course of their endless battle against the bad guys trying to do bad guy things.

“Holy fuck.” Lena is finally forced to look away as a third finger slips in beside the other two slick fingers. “Jesus, Kara.”

“Look at you getting all religious on me.” Kara teases, her voice muffled because she refuses to move away from the wetness that tastes better than even the best-tasting wines. Even the wine good old JC made from water can’t have tasted this good.

By the time her second orgasm has overtaken her, Lena’s relaxed so far into the sheets that she’s sure she’s become one with them and given the fact that she’s just as wet as them, she should probably be thrown in the laundry alongside them.

“No more.”

“You don’t want to come one last time for me, baby?” Kara pouts, her fingers easing out of her pussy as gently as she can so they can ever so tenderly rub against her clit in soothing little circles. “Just one more?”

Lena pants heavily. Her clit feels like it’s on fire, but by god it feels good. A tiny nod and a barely whispered “one more” has Kara refocusing on her fingers as she crawls up the bed to settle beside her, watching her every reaction as Lena lowered slowly over the edge this time, abseiling to her orgasm and taking in the wonderous view as she does so.

Lena cums and she’s pretty damn sure that Kara’s going to be looking smug for at least the next week. “I don’t know if I love you or hate you.”

“I know which one I’d prefer it be.” Kara giggles, wrapping her arms around the brunette firmly, knowing just how much she loves the steadying weight after sex. It grounds her, and Kara’s more than happy to be her anchor.

“I love you.” Lena tilts her head towards Kara, her eyes closed and her lips pouted, ready to receive a kiss she has no doubt is coming.

Kara leaves lingering kisses against her lips before whispering. “You better not go to sleep on me. If you think I’m not turned on after all of that, you’re very wrong.”

Lena lets out an undignified snort. “I’m not going to sleep. I’m trying to remember how to work my legs. Lucky for you though, I still know how to work my tongue. Fancy a ride, Ms Editor-in-Chief?”

“Hell yeah.”

Lena traces her fingers over Kara’s arm softly. She lets her nails grace her skin just hard enough to be relaxing but not so soft that it tickles her. She shifts slightly in the fresh bedding, her eyes peering through the dark room, well-adjusted from long minutes of silent staring.

Kara shifts slightly. “Can you pass me some water please?”

Lena hums softly, stopping her fingers so she can turn to the nightstand and grab the single water bottle now sitting there half-empty. “Here.”

Kara takes a large gulp before offering the rest to Lena, who shakes her head softly. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You should drink. I don’t want you to be dehydrated.”

Lena’s eyes fill with tears. She’s already hypersensitive from the night’s activities and the rapid highs and lows of the past few months; this just feels like her tipping point. “I’m ok.”

“Ok, if you need me to get another later, let me know.”

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“Let’s get married.” Lena hadn’t planned for it to go like this. Or for it to happen at all right now. She’s known for years that Kara is her person and the only woman she could ever marry, but this is not the time nor place she imagined she would do this. She’s not taking it back. Not when she’s never felt such conviction with anything she’s ever said in her life.

“Ok.” Kara shrugs.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but Lena?”

“Hm?”

“You’re going to repropose tomorrow somewhere romantic and never tell anyone you proposed to me in bed after we fucked each other’s brains out.”

“I am.”

“You are.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years

Text

Tomorrow is not too late

AN: This fic is for the lovely @maladaptivexxdaydreaming's Jardin de Poemas challenge, and who better to use than Ari? My chosen poetry prompt is in bold.

Whilst this definitely can be read as a stand alone, there is a brief nod to this little ficlet I wrote, so that could be seen as a prequel.

Beta by @navybrat817, divider by @firefly-graphics, mood board by me (with credits to those who took the photos)

Find my master list here and the series master list here

WC: 5.8k

Pairing: Ari x Reader (no ethnicity or body type specified, other than too short to reach top shelves in grocery stores)

CW: Stranger to Friends, Friends to (future) Lovers, Fluff, Getting together, Smidge angst, Ari’s hands and chest hair (totally a warning)

The sun was beating down as you and your friends hung out on the beach. It was a long weekend, and you were all planning to stay up late, play games, eat too much and most definitely drink too much.

There was a small resort on this part of the beach, but they didn’t mind non-guests coming down, as they also had a public bar and it was definitely going to be your group’s first stop later when the sun started to go down. Whilst all of you needed a respite from the rat-race, all your friends agreed that you needed it the most.

It was a lovely day. You lay on your towel, soaking up the rays for a time, read your book and then indulged in a water fight in the gentle rolling waves. You ate some of the picnic that you’d all contributed too and it was all enough, to make you forget your troubles, at least for a while. As the day was drawing to a close, you took yourself off a ways, to sit on one of the dunes and stare out at the ocean, imagining that with every wave that crashed ashore and retreated back out, some of your sadness was going with it. You turned as you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, and your friend, Iris, sat down next to you, slinging her arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close.

“How’re you doing, Puss?”

A small smile appeared on your face at the use of your childhood nickname, a callback to your obsession with all things Puss in Boots.

“Alright, I suppose. Up and down. I still don’t understand why? Why he did it? I loved him so much.”

Iris rubbed her hand up and down your arm, biting back the words she wanted to say, because you weren’t ready to hear them yet. Not ready to hear her say what she really thought about your ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t know, Puss. I don’t know. But I do know you will get through it, cos you’re strong, okay?

You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, determined not to let Kyle’s actions spoil this weekend.

“Okay. Come on, let’s get back to the others, pack up and head to the bar. I need a drink or three.”

“It’s like you read my mind. Sure you don’t wanna run off with me?” You hugged her back, hard, smacking a wet kiss to her cheek, making her laugh and push you away, making over-exaggerated gagging noises.

The pair of you were giggling as you stood and ran, hand in hand, down the sandy slope.

It was fairly crowded in the resort bar, but given the long weekend, that wasn’t too surprising. There was a mixture of locals and guests; the latter asking the former about any hidden gems in the way of restaurants and places to visit.

Your group had taken up residence in one of the corners, where there were some wicker sofas and armchairs, covered in cushions that had a distinctive ‘70’s vibe. You were two cocktails and a shot in, and feeling nicely mellow. Laughter bounced off the walls as you all chatted about work and families. You were hoping that the conversation wouldn’t turn to relationships anytime soon when Iris elbowed you in the ribs.

“Pssst!! Puss!”

“Whaaaaat?”

“The guy behind the bar, one of the resort owners - he’s totally checking you out.”

You glanced up, where one of the tallest and broadest men you’d ever set eyes on was looking over at your group. His dirty blond hair sat, shaggily, near his shoulder, and an equally scruffy looking beard covering his chin and jaw. He was hot. And way out of your league. You turned back to your friend and rolled your eyes.

“I doubt it’s me he’s watching, probably Gracie.” You waved your hand in the direction of your other friend, a tall, leggy blonde with annoyingly perky natural assets and a tiny waist. It would be easy to hate her if she wasn’t such a sweetheart.

“Nope, I think it’s definitely you. I bet if you get up and head across to the ladies he’ll watch you. If he doesn’t, I’ll buy your next shot, but if he does, you owe me a shot, and you have to buy from him.”

“Oh, it’s on!” Iris knew your weak-spot; you could never resist a challenge.

You stood up, smoothed your skirt, and grabbed your purse, before you made your way across the crowded bar towards the restrooms. You tried to subtly look across in your peripheral vision to see if the barman was watching you.

Fuck. He was.

You felt heat creep up your neck and onto your cheeks and tried not to hurry the last few feet to the ladies room. You pushed through the door and grabbed hold of the nearest sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were bright due to the alcohol you’d had and there was still some sand in your hair from earlier. Why was a guy like that looking at you? You had to admit, it felt nice to be looked at, but you were still dealing with the aftermath of Kyle and you didn’t do one night stands.

You splashed water on your face, and then patted it dry. Semi-happy with your appearance, you exited the restroom and headed to the bar; you owed Iris that drink. Heat prickled over you as you approached; you could feel his eyes on you. When you got so close that you could no longer avoid it, you looked up at the man from beneath your lashes. Your breath caught in your throat, because he was even more handsome, and striking, up close. His eyes were the blue of the ocean, flecked with green and swirling with hidden depths. His hair and beard were also a symphony of different colours; golden, ash, light brown, auburn, all melding together to create something truly beautiful. His lips, pink, plump and slightly chapped, turned up into a smile as you approached.

“Hey there, angel. What’ll it be?”

His voice was deep and sonorous, the rumble washing through your body in a way that made your imagination race.

“Umm, can I get two tequila’s please.”

“Sure thing.” He turned to find the shot glasses and the correct bottle. “So, you and your friends have a good beach day? Great weather for it.”

You felt the corners of your mouth twitching at his attempt at smalltalk.

“It was lovely, thanks.”

He placed the two shots on a tray and you handed over your card to pay. He rang it up and then passed you back the card, his eyes twinkling, small crinkles around the edges. As you took hold of your card, his fingers brushed yours, and you swore a jolt of electricity ran up your arm.

“I’m Ari, by the way. Ari Levinson.”

“Thanks, Ari.” You picked up the tray and started to move away.

“Hey,” he called. “What do I call you?”

You chuckled. He was persistent, you had to give him that.

“Angel.”

His smile split into a broad grin before he laughed as well, shaking his head as he started to clean the bar.

Your town wasn’t the biggest, and after that day you seemed to bump into Ari everywhere. First in the grocery store, when you were reaching up to grab your favourite chips from the top shelf. You were standing on your toes, grocery basket in one hand, the other outstretched above your head searching futilely. The tip of your tongue was poking out of the corner of your mouth in concentration, when a tanned, golden haired arm crossed your peripheral vision and then suddenly the chips were in your basket.

“Good choice, Angel.” He smiled that smile that made your knees slightly weak and your heart beat loud in your chest.

“Thanks Ari.” You chastised yourself when your voice came out more breathy than intended, but smiled back before waving good-bye and getting on with your shopping.

The second time, you’d just picked up your favourite coffee on your way to work. You were making your way out of the crowded shop when you tripped. In an instant your cup was plucked out of your hand and your body was brought flush against a broad chest, your nose almost pressing into the golden hair protruding out the top of his partially undone shirt. The smell of sand and salty water wafted across you.

“Woah there, Angel. No need to throw yourself at me.” You looked up at the sound of the amused voice and he winked at you.

“Thanks,” you squeaked out. He helped set you to rights and you scurried out before you could make more of a fool of yourself.

You saw him again whilst jogging, the pair of you waving at each other as you passed in opposite directions, then a few days later you almost literally bumped into him in the library.

“I’m starting to think the universe is trying to tell us something, Angel, the way we keep meeting like this. Maybe we should listen.”

You leant against the library counter, holding your stash of books, smiling coyly and raising one eyebrow.

“And what do you think it’s trying to say, Mr. Levinson?”

“That I should invite you for coffee and you should say yes. And that you should never call me Mr. Levinson again - making me sound like my Dad.”

You smirked and turned, grabbing the library notepad and a pen. You’d been feeling good recently, less affected by your break-up with Kyle, and whilst you still weren’t looking for anything serious, Ari had a way of making you smile and laugh. It couldn’t hurt to get to know him better, right? You pressed the piece of paper into his hand and then walked out before you could change your mind.

“Call me,” you tossed over your shoulder and Ari looked down at the paper, your number and the word ‘Angel’.

You sat, drumming your fingers on the table, to stop yourself from chewing them, as you waited for Ari at the local coffee shop. You’d heard your message chime on your phone sound on your drive back from the library, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. He’d proposed a mid-morning meeting the coming Saturday, and now here you were. You looked down at your jeans, ankle boots and long sleeved t-shirt, still questioning whether it was the right outfit. It had been cooler recently, the heat of the summer starting to dissipate. You had your leather jacket, too, to wear when you left. Well, too late now.

The bell above the door rang, and, as it’d done every time you’d heard the sound in the last 5 minutes, your head jerked up. Ari jogged in, smiling broadly, stone wash jeans, burnt umber casual button down and a matching jean jacket. His hand came up and swept his hair back off his forehead, the strands glowing gold in the sunlight.

“Hey, Angel, sorry I’m a bit late. Traffic kicking my ass this morning. What are you having?”

You shook yourself out of your stupor and asked him for your favourite coffee and an almond croissant. He was back a few minutes later and, although you’d expected the large black coffee he’d got himself, you were surprised by the raspberry and white chocolate muffin. You smiled in amusement as he pulled the top off of it and let out a contented moan as the sweetness hit his tongue.

“What,” he spluttered around a mouthful of muffin. “It’s good shit.” You just shook your head, eyes full of laughter as you ripped off a piece of your croissant and dipped it in your coffee, before stuffing your own face. You both sat for the next few minutes, just smiling at each other and eating your treats.

How was he so handsome? It shouldn’t be allowed.

“So, Ari. How’s it going at the resort?”

“Quiet, but it is nearing the end of the season. Soon we’ll be renting out the rooms for conferences and winter yoga clubs and the such like.” He looked up at you from underneath his illegally long eyelashes. “I can easily say though, that my summer hasn’t been the same since an Angel appeared on the beach.”

“Ari!” You squealed his name in embarrassment. His hands shot out across the table to clasp your own. You stared down and all you could think was that his hands were so very big and so very warm.

“It’s true! And I know it’s ridiculous, because I don’t even know your real name, but in the least creepy way possible, I can’t get you off my mind.”

You laughed at that, but sombered quickly, sighing and ducking your head. You extracted your hands from his and placed them on your lap, where he couldn’t see you twisting the ends of your sleeves.

“I…umm… I’m just looking for a friend right now. I… err… had a bad break-up recently and I’m not really ready yet. I’m sorry.” You glanced up at him, expecting to see a change in his expression, but there wasn’t one. He was still smiling at you sweetly.

“What you apologising for, Angel? Not your fault some idiot couldn’t see the best thing that was ever gonna grace his life. His loss, not yours. You need a friend? I’m your man…friend. Man-friend.” He cocked his head. “That sounded weird.”

You couldn’t help it. His goofiness caused a bubble of laughter to make its way out of your throat.

“Look, sweetheart, I ain’t gonna pressure you into anything. I respect you too much, okay. So next time you wanna hang, let me know. You have my number now, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks for understanding. Most guys wouldn’t.” You both lapsed into silence as you finished your coffee. Your cup empty, you stood, feeling somewhat awkward and you busied yourself putting on your jacket. Ari stood as well, clearing his throat and grabbing your attention. His hand slid to the back of his head, rubbing there, self-consciously.

“I was wondering, if you would like a, purely platonic, trip to the museum to fill the rest of the day? There’s a new exhibit just opened and I think you might like it.”

A smile lit up your face and you stood up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“That sounds really nice, let’s go.”

He smiled in return and offered you the crook of his arm. You accepted and the pair of you walked out, grinning, into the sunshine.

Weeks passed and fall came in earnest, the leaves on the trees changing through a kaleidoscope of colours; yellows, oranges and reds, before curling up and floating to the ground. Your and Ari’s friendship strengthened, and whilst you didn’t see him every day, you did text or send funny tik toks to each other. You’d finally told him your name that day you’d had your first friend-date, blurting it out as you’d walked arm in arm down to the museum, causing a puzzled look to flash briefly across his face before he worked it out.

“Suits you,” he’d said with a smile. “But Imma still call you ‘Angel’, if that’s alright?” You’d assured him it was definitely alright, letting him know about the nickname Iris used for you and how you couldn’t shake it.

Since then he’d come along to meet -ups with your other friends, causing Iris to raise an eyebrow at you, tellingly. She’d teased you mercilessly about when you were going to put him out of his misery, as he was clearly so besotted with you, despite your insistence that the pair of you were just friends.

“He knows I’m not ready for more, and he’s fine with just being friends.”

“Well, don’t blame him, Puss, when some other woman snaps him up from under your nose.”

You pursed your lips at her, not bothering to lie that you’d be fine with it, because just the thought of Ari with someone else made you feel sick. Which in turn made you feel like a right bitch, because you still weren’t ready for a boyfriend. You knew the truth of your friend’s words though; you weren’t being fair to Ari, keeping him dangling like this. You needed to speak to him.

You invited him over for a pizza and film night. You’d had a couple over the last few months, but they weren’t all that common. They’d always been fun though, with you picking a film each and lovingly teasing each other on the choice. This evening, however, there was a knot in your stomach. You’d got in all your favourite snacks, and Ari said that he’d bring pizza, but you weren’t sure if you could actually eat. The doorbell rang and you jumped, drawing in a ragged breath before heading to open it. Ari’s large frame filled the doorway and he held the hand carrying the pizza’s out of the way so he could lean down and drop a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey Angel, I hope you’re ready to enter the Matrix.”

No matter how nervous you were, his joyful presence was infectious and you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his waist and hug him tight. But your mood soured again when you remembered why you’d invited him tonight, and you extricated yourself from the embrace almost as fast. You scurried to the kitchen and grabbed some drinks whilst the sounds of Ari hanging up his coat and sorting out the DVD carried through your tiny apartment. Ari was a big man, and in your small, private space, he seemed gargantuan. His scent permeated every corner of every room and you knew it would linger for days if you didn’t do something about it, and you never did.

Returning to the sitting room, you found him lounging across your sofa, completely at home, his first slice almost completely devoured, threads of melted cheese sticking to his beard. It should have been gross, but you actually found it endearing. You leant over, removing the offending dairy product and passed him a beer with a small smile. You settled at the other end of the sofa, your feet tucked up and pressed play on the remote before grabbing your pizza box. Ari looked at you, somewhat puzzled; normally you sat right next to him and by the time you’d both finished eating and it was time to start the second film you were leaning on his chest, with his arm around your shoulders.

“You alright, Angel? What you doin’ all the way over there?”

You shrugged your shoulders, nonchalantly, and returned your gaze to Keanu and Carrie. When Ari shifted to sit closer, you got up to grab a couple more drinks and on your return he’d resumed his previous position at the other end of the couch. You didn’t meet his enquiring gaze as you passed him his beer and sat back down, pretending to be fully engrossed in the film. When the credits started scrolling you shot up again, clearing away the pizza boxes and grabbing your snacks from the kitchen cupboard. Spinning back around you found yourself nose to chest with Ari.

“Oh!”

His hands came down to gently grip your upper arms and he steered you back towards your breakfast bar, practically lifting you up onto one of the bar stools. His arms moved to rest on the countertop behind you, caging you in and he bent forward at the waist to bring your faces level with each other. His beautiful blue eyes were stormy and intense as they searched your face for answers.

“Oh, indeed. Come on, sweetheart. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You sighed and pressed your hands against his broad chest, silently urging him to give you a bit more space. He retreated, but only slightly, perching on the other stool, turning you to face him, your knees slotting together, and taking hold of your hands. You looked down to where he was running his thumbs back and forth over your knuckles, entranced by the look and feel of the action.

“I… um… I’m worried. I’m worried that you’re not happy. You’re hanging out with me all the time, when you could be going on dates, meeting people. I’m holding you back, cause I can’t give you what you want.”

The next thing you knew, Ari had slid down from his perch and wrapped his bulky arms around you, drawing you tight to his chest. He was so warm and smelt so nice, and you couldn’t help but inhale deeply and relax into his embrace. His cheek was resting on your head and you were completely surrounded by him.

“Angel, I don’t wanna go on dates or ‘meet’ people. Why would I need to, when I got you right here? You’re not holding me back, and you are giving me what I want - I have you, don’t I? However you want me and whatever you wanna give me - that’s what I want.”

“But what about… you know… intimacy…kissing and, um, sex?” Your voice was muffled by his ridiculous chest, but at least it hid you from embarrassment. Ari was silent for a moment as he considered his answer, huffing slightly and you started to feel nervous.

“Angel, I don’t cuddle all my friends like this. We have intimacy, you and I. Would I like more? I’m not gonna lie, I really would, but that’s my issue to deal with. I can wait until you’re ready. Until then, I can, you know…” He trailed off and you giggled into his shirt, before he continued. “And if you’re never ready, that’s also fine. Sex isn’t the be all and end all of a relationship. I’d rather have you and no sex, than sex and no you.” He moved one hand round towards your face, and finding your chin, tilted it up to look at him. “What we have is enough, believe me.” He dropped a brief kiss onto your forehead, then took a half-step back, although you were still in his arms.

“Let’s say we take these snacks and go queue up your pick, yeah?”

You smiled up at him, shyly.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

You walked back into the lounge, hand in hand, you holding a bag of chocolate covered pretzels, Ari holding a pair of beers between his large fingers. He sat down on the couch first and drew you down next to him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you against him.

“This okay, Angel?”

“More than okay, Ari. It’s perfect.”

Halloween passed and then, before you all knew it, Thanksgiving arrived, with Christmas right around the corner.

“You do know I don’t really celebrate Christmas, Angel?” Ari’s chuckle was distorted slightly over his phone.

“Well, I’ll get you a Hanukkah present then, and if you want we can celebrate together. I’m not going home until Christmas Eve.” You’d been busy recently and not been able to spend as much time with him as you would have liked. You didn’t tell him, but you’d already picked out the perfect gift for him.

“Some of us are having a little thing down the resort on the 20th, in the evening. You wanna come over then?” You didn’t know his friends as well as he knew yours, even after all this time, so you weren’t going to miss out on the opportunity to remedy that. And you had to admit you’d missed him. Missed his laugh. Missed his smile. Missed the way he held you tight when you were sitting on a sofa together.

“Sounds great. 8pm okay?”

“It’s a friend-date, sweetheart. See you then!”

Mid-afternoon on the 20th and you were stressing about your outfit, because you were just friends. You were. You kept telling yourself that. But if you were just friends, why was your stomach in knots, why did you want your outfit to be perfect? A last minute phone-call to Iris solved your outfit problems. She must have realised how on edge you were feeling, because she didn’t tease you once. You decided to go with a classic, a black, velvet A-line dress with a sweetheart neckline. Delicate gold jewellery, mid-height black heels and a sparkly black clutch completed your outfit. You picked up the gift bag with his present inside, as you made your way out of the door and towards your Uber. It whisked you through the city, all of the Christmas lights, lighting up the streets in differing colours. It made you smile. It was only a short drive to the resort, but the closer you got the more nervous you became, and when the car came to a halt you were on the verge of asking him to turn around. However, you forced yourself to get out and walk down the drive to the hotel reception. Ari was expecting you and you didn’t want to let him down.

As you pushed open the doors, the warmth from inside hit you and the sounds of festive music gayly assaulted your ears. Barely a step inside and he was there, lifting you up into his arms and whirling you around.

“Angel!” His smile was wide and it made your heart stutter in your chest. “I’ve missed you!”

You laughed. “I’ve missed you too, Ari, but please put me down!” He pouted, but you tickled him behind his ear until he started laughing and put you down before he dropped you.

“Not fair, sweetheart.”

“Definitely fair. I need every advantage I can get.”

You weren’t sure what it was, but one moment the pair of you were grinning at each other, like lunatics, the next you were aware of how close you were together. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t been this close together before, but there was something about the way his eyes were locked on yours, how his warm breath was heating your lips up, that made your heart jump up into your throat.

“Ari?” Was it a question or a plea that came out of your mouth like a sigh? You weren’t sure, but he seemed to lean closer and…

“There you two are!” You jumped apart like you’d been scalded, the pair of you whipping your heads around towards the interruption. Rachel smiled at the pair of you, her eyes alight with mischief. “Max needs your superior height with something, Ari. He’s in the kitchen. I’ll take your Angel down to the rec room. See you in a few minutes, shoo.” Ari shot you an apologetic look and you shook your head in amusement, before he jogged away to see what he was needed for.

Rachel turned to you before giving you a warm embrace. She then hooked your arm in hers and led you through the hotel.

“You look absolutely stunning, by the way. Ari’s going to be a mess all evening, and the other guys are gonna flirt with you, just to rile him up.”

You ducked your head, a little embarrassed.

“I’m sure it will be fine. We’re just friends. Good friends, admittedly.” You cringed as you spoke, as your words sounded false, even to your own ears.

“Do good friends always look at each other like they’re about to devour each other? That man fell for you the minute he saw you, that day on the beach. And I can tell you have feelings for him too. What’s stopping you?”

You opened your mouth to tell her about Kyle, but snapped it shut again as realisation swept through you. What was stopping you? Memories of Kyle hadn’t bothered you in months. Now, the only man who consumed your thoughts was Ari. Warmth bloomed through you, like a flower under the sun as you thought about him. All of your recent thoughts; about how you missed him, how you wanted him to be happy, how you’d be unhappy if he were to start dating a girl, they all pointed to one thing.

You loved him. You loved Ari.

The revelation stopped you in your tracks, jerking Rachel to a halt where your arms were looped together. She was startled for a moment, but one look at your face had her smiling again.

“There we go… I gotta say, it’s like watching an energy saving lightbulb finally turn on. You know it’s gonna get there in the end, you just gotta wait.”

You shook your head, and chuckled as you allowed her to continue guiding you into the hotel.

The rec room was brightly lit when you entered. Blue streamers and balloons across the ceiling and partially lit menorahs on various flat surfaces. Your stomach rumbled when you saw the buffet, especially the large tray of rugelach; Ari had brought some round now and again, and you now had a slight obsession with the sweet treat. You were ‘umming and ahhing’ over which topping to pick for your latkes when Ari reappeared, Max in his wake. He came up beside you, hands in his pockets and nudged your shoulder with his.

“Leave some for me, Angel”, he teased.

“You snooze, you lose, Levinson.”

Quick as a flash his hands left his pockets, he took hold of your plate and held it high up above your head.

“Hey, no fair.” You jumped to try and grab the plate, but not only were you too short, your heels hampered you. Ari grinned at you, before taking hold of one of the potato pancakes, dipping one edge in the dollop of sour cream you’d put on your plate and then shovelling the whole thing into his mouth. You glared at him, trying not to let amusement turn up the corners of your lips. “And to think, I was gonna share with you. Well now I’m gonna eat all these rugelach myself.”

You grabbed another plate and piled it high with the delectable twisted pastries, before sticking your tongue out at him and flouncing off towards one of the tables. You heard Ari’s deep laugh behind you, and you smiled to yourself whilst he could only see your back. You dropped down into the chair, daintily crossed your legs and, looking him dead in the eye, took your first bite. The pastry flaked and a bit of powdered sugar clung to your lips and a riot of crunchy, sweet, and spicy exploded in your mouth as the nuts, fruit and cinnamon mingled.

“Mmm…” You let out a salacious moan, your eyes rolled up dramatically and your tongue snuck out to swipe away at the powdered sugar. When you looked back at Ari, you jumped a little when you saw that he’d moved right in front of you. The vein in his neck was throbbing, his nostrils were flared, and his eyes were dark and stormy.

“Angel…” His voice cracked as he let out his plea. He towered over you and for a heartbeat the rest of the world faded away; there was just you and Ari, gazes locked and this palpable tension vibrating between you, and then he was leaving the room by the side door, out onto the sand, in long-legged strides, leaving you sat there, staring blankly into the space he had just been occupying. The hurried clicking of heels brought you back to reality as Rachel ran up to you.

“What are you sitting there for? Go get him!” She practically dragged you to your feet and pushed you towards the door. You stumbled in the doorway as your feet started to sink into the soft sand, so you kicked off your shoes before dashing out onto the beach. It took you a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the relative darkness outside, with all the lights behind you, but you spied an Ari shaped silhouette, sitting down by the edge of the water. As you walked up to him, the cool sand squidging up between your toes, he turned to look up at you, his expression stricken.

“I’m sorry, Angel. I really am.” You dropped to your knees in front of him and took his face in your hands, his beard soft as you cradled it in your palms. His hands came up and covered yours as he stared into your eyes. “I’m sorry.” He repeated the words in a whisper. “I’ll be okay in a few minutes. I just needed a moment. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head at him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It’s me who should be apologising. I teased you, knowing how you feel, so I’m sorry, too.” You shifted and lowered your head, so your foreheads were touching and you could feel him shuddering with pent up emotion.

“I said I would wait for you, Angel, and I will, I promise, but I need to tell you, please, let go of the old love and tell it to keep its distance. Tell this love I am the only one for you.”

“Ari…” Your heart was pounding in your chest, your blood rushing in your ears, louder than the sounds of the waves a few feet away. You knew how he felt, but hearing him say it was something else entirely, and the words poured out of you, like a waterfall. “...I love you too.”

Later, neither of you were able to say who moved first, but almost as soon as the words had left your lips, Ari’s own were upon them. You still cupped his face, and his hand moved to wrap around your waist, holding you as close as possible. His lips were soft, and his beard tickled your face slightly, but it was everything you’d ever imagined and more. His love spilled from him with each press of his lips and you answered with your own. You were dizzy with emotion when you opened to let him in, his warm tongue dancing with yours in the heat of your mouth. He pulled you to straddle his lap and your hands slid from his face to tangle in his long hair.

You weren’t certain how long the pair of you stayed there, sat in the sand, kissing each other, but it came to an abrupt end when Ari pulled away from you with a shout. You drew back, kiss-drunk and confused, only to realise that the tide was coming in and had soaked his shoes. You started to laugh and Ari growled at you playfully, before rising to his feet, you in his arms, shrieking at the sudden movement. You buried your head in his neck, nuzzling into the warmth of him, as he made his way back up the beach towards the hotel, wondering why you hadn’t done this sooner.

Let go of the old love and tell it to keep its distance. Tell this love I am the only one for you.

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @beelicious-barnes @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @turbolisedcomet @goldylions

#jardindepoemas #jardin de poemas #late writes #late to the party 81 #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fluff #garden of poems #ari levinson x female reader

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weenwrites · 4 months

Note

Howdy Ween🤠! How goes it? Enjoying the warmer weather I hope! (Edit: Starting writing this in my notes a while ago so I am personally sick of the warm weather now but if you like it then I hope that you're enjoying it! ☀️

I was hoping to request something with a human who enjoys building explosives, doing experiments with different chemicals put into fire: whether they are really productive or not remains to be seen. They don't do it in the base or around the kids for safety so probably out in all that dessert somewhere. Maybe they talk about them or record them for show. When they hear about Wheeljack from Bulkhead & Miko they're excited to meet him but they're nervous of new people. But they still wanna show him there stuff ya know? Bonus points, if you also think it'd be funny and it fits if not you don't have to, if it makes so much of a ruckus since they probably wanna impress Wheeljack that Agent Fowler calls in his traditional Agent Fowler fashion? "PRIME! What is going on down there!?"

I would like the story format but is headcannons works better for you that's fine. If decide you wanna write this, thanks in advance Ween!

(P.S.-I know this is really wordy but I promise when I send in a request it's 50% the story I describe & 50% vibes. It doesn't have to be exactly how I described it😅.)

Summary - Wheeljack and Miko go check out some explosives. Characters - Wheeljack Content - Gen Category - Scenarios Trigger Warnings - None

✎ A/N: I don't mind it if requests are wordy! There's always a chance that what you include in fics may help me come up with more ideas on how to write it.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

They were expecting Miko to show up once the rest of the team were called to assist them with the explosives. It was to be expected after all, Miko without explosives and action wouldn't be like her at all. Though part of them was beyond ecstatic to hear a familiar revving engine and see what looked to be the italian-flag racing towards them in the distance—later turning out to be Wheeljack—they forced all that excitement behind a calm and friendly demeanor once he skidded to a halt in front of them.

”Wheeljack!“ They exclaimed as he reconfigured himself into his rootmode, ”and Miko, too!“ they add as the respective girl stepped out from behind him. ”Thanks for showing up, but there isn't anything for the two of you to do. The team's finished loading all those explosives down there in the quarry, and I just have to do a bit of work on my end to ensure that things run smoothly.”

“That's fine, we came here to watch the show anyway.“ She explained.

”By all means, go right ahead—actually, Miko I'll need you to put these on real quick," and quickly, she was passed a pair of earmuffs and goggles before Y/N turned to the bot next to her. "Ooh, I don't think I have any earmuffs or protective goggles that are your size, Wheeljack." They chuckled.

"Don't worry 'bout me," he flicked his hand, "I've handled my fair share of loud noises before."

"Oh, right, right… You're out on the field alot…" They mumble, taking a clipboard from the trunk of their car, "I'll be detonating the explosives soon, so you won't have to wait long."

With a nod, he placed a hand on his knee and bent lower to look at the crates of supplies off to the side. A few particular crates had caught his attention with the bright yellow warning labels pasted all over the sides.

"What's this over here?" He asked.

Without batting an eye, Y/N responded: "Nondescript explosive materials."

"Gee, really?" Wheeljack deadpanned, "Couldn't tell."

They lowered the board and sighed, "Sorry, I'd rather not tell what it is—not while Miko's around anyway,—“

“Hey!”

”—I could get into a lot of legal trouble if you guys went around making explosives and setting them off without an ATF permit." They pause, "Assuming you guys would rat me out to the police, anyway…"

"D'you really take us for those kinds of people?" He chuckled.

“Just you guys? Specifically? No. Fowler? Absolutely.”

"Could you at least show us how it works?" Miko offered.

With a sigh, Y/N reluctantly continued, "I… Guess it wouldn't hurt as long as you can't get your hands on the specific chemicals themselves—and as long as you don't rat me out, my permit's at stake here..."

"Our lips are sealed." Wheeljack offered, even miming a zipping motion across his mouth.

With a hum, they shuffled past Miko, and over towards Wheeljack beside the crates. And there, they began sifting through some of the bags of chemicals, each plastered with big blocks of small, black text that either detailed warnings or the bag's contents. Curiously, the two had peered over Y/N's shoulder to try and make heads or tails of what they were doing.

"I just need a little bit of this nondescript powder, and if I ignite this tiny speck right here…"

The powder gave a loud very audible pop, leaving a small, black, smoking speck on the cardboard.

"And that's how it's going to go. Except… On a much larger scale. There's about 30 pounds of this stuff all the waaaay over there, each of them in a little water gel sack capsule, spread out across the supposed entrance of the mine."

"30 pounds?" Wheeljack blinked, "doesn't seem like much, and the mine's entrance is pretty deep."

"To you it might not, but just you wait." They smirked, "Appearances can be deceiving… But the explosives aren’t meant to reach the energon in the mine, it’s just supposed to pave the way to the energon since we don't have access to any larger pieces of mining equipment."

"Oh right, you're just loosening the rubble, yeah?"

"Yeah, and then you and the rest of the team will move in to clear it out, and depending on how it looks from there, I may have to plant some more explosives."

"Ya know that some energon veins can be deep-rooted into the soil, so if this mine is as big as everybody makes it out to be, you might have to adjust how many explosives to use and deep they go."

"Ok, ok, I gotcha... Say, you wouldn't be interested in helping me with these explosives, would you?" They offer, "I could really use your expertise."

"Sure thing, don't see why not." he nodded.

"Great! Now, is everyone ready?"

"Yeah, fire in the hole!" Miko exclaimed.

Y/N nodded and with the simple click of a button, a ground-shaking boom had errupted from the quarry with a mushroom cloud sprouting into the sky to boot. Gradually, the quaking had ceased and as the cloud was barely beginning to clear, Y/N turned to the two with a haughty grin.

"Whatever you mixed up has a pretty impressive blast radius despite the quantity," Wheeljack whistled.

"Oh, the quantity has nothing to do with the explosion, it's actually the concentration of the material that affects the scale of the explosive itself." They explained. "A little goes a long way, as they say."

"I see, mind if I take a closer look? I think if I run out of explosive cores for my grenades, I bet could make something like this work…"

"Well, so long as Fowler won't be on my back for this, then no, I don't mind—it's called ANFO, it's packaged in water gel since it's soluble in water. It's not as sensitive as dynamite but—hey—please be careful!"

"Yeah, don't worry 'bout it chief… Now what's this ANFO stuff made from exactly…?“ Haphazardly, he shoved the lid off the crate, ”A bit of… What's this now?"

"I-I told you to be careful!" They screeched, "If the powder gets between your joints, the friction could cause it to ignite!”

“Right, right… Human things aren't that sturdy…”

#tfp imagines #tfp scenarios #tfp x reader #tfp wheeljack #wheeljack x reader #weenwrites #[ HEE HOO SURPRISE! ]#[ even if you don't celebrate christmas.. consider this a present from me to you for the holidays. or just december in general ]#[ thank you for sticking around and reading my stuff and sending in requests! ]

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i-am-beckyu · 1 year

Note

:0 fake fic titles!?

Idk how many you want so I will send three

'A heart that warms coldly'

2. 'When the player strikes back'

3. 'Are... Are we still friends?'

If you want more, just tell me!

(also I responded to your ask incase you didn't see it)

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

-✨anon✨

3! WOOOOOOOO

A heart that warms coldly

Techno liked living in the Snowy Tundras. Sure it was cold and far away from anyone and everyone but at least it was quiet. Just him his thoughts and the tiny screams of something in his walls.

Wait….

Ranboo is not having a good day. First he lost his hook when on a supply run, then he got chased by a rat which forced him outside into the snow, which of course led to a bird snatching him up to take him back to its nest which thankfully he had his trusty needle sword and got out of its claws, but proceeded to drop him several feet down into a random houses chimney.

He’s lucky he survived the fall, only now he’s trying not to be burned alive by the flames below him….

Hehehe Can you imagine the awkward saviour moment? I can :3

When the player strikes back

Things all mortals should know: how to survive, who’s really your friend and that you never accept a game with a God.

The gods do not care for lesser beings such as themselves, but the human mortals have always been a pique of entertainment. They show more smarts than most creatures and their competitive nature makes them grand candidates for their board games. For what fun is there in moving a game piece when the game pieces move themselves?

Tommy should have remembered the rules better. Because now he’s part of the God of Strategy’s Board game and said God seems to like to rewrite the rules to cause Tommy the most chaos possible….

I was half tempted to not share this one because I’ve had this idea for ages and still maybe wanna write it, but we shall see.

Are… Are we still friends?

Tommy is a sizeshifter and he and Tubbo have been friends for years. Except he never told Tubbo he could shift.

Now he had meant to tell Tubbo, really he had. But when your friend is 3 inches tall, and deathly afraid of humans would you tell them you live as a human in the apartment complex upstairs? Uh no I didn’t think so either.

Tommy kinda wishes he had though. Because maybe he wouldn’t have found his friend in his apartment late one night when he came home and discovered the truth. Maybe then he wouldn’t be outside Tubbos front door trying to mend their friendship…:

Yep this one will be fun. Much healing and lying and trust issues I think lol.

Thank you for the 3 lovely titles ✨anon✨

I think I’m a still tuck on sizeshifter brain rot lol

#✨anon✨ my beloved #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #beckyu writes #fake fic title game

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downwiththeficness · 10 months

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Shadow and Veil-Chapter Nine

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count:~3600

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

Eva rummaged through the kitchen pantry, pulling out anything that even remotely looked like a snack and throwing it over her shoulder to land on the island. Having dug around on every shelf and in every drawer, she stood before the mountain of chips, pretzels, cookies, and candy with her brows drawn together.

“This is about as good as its going to get,” she said to herself.

In the cabinet storage beneath the island were all of her platters, bowls, and serving utensils. She tugged a long serving board from the bunch along with several of the less valuable bowls. Quickly, she plated the snacks in what she hoped was an appetizing spread, making little adjustments as she went. Then, she picked up the board by its handles and carefully walked around the corner and down the hall to The Lounge.

Crossing the threshold, Eva took four steps into the room and waited to be acknowledged. The band was sprawled out around the room—the drummer was standing next to the bar talking to Mr. Jimenez, the bass and guitar player were looking at Josh’s (rarely used) stereo, and the singer was sitting on the sofa opposite Eva talking with Josh.

She shifted on her feet, looking to catch her husband’s attention. He was preoccupied with a rather effusively gesticulated story being told by the blonde next to him and it didn’t look like he would notice her any time soon. Her arms were starting to hurt from holding the heavy tray. She didn’t want to drop it, but she also didn’t know if she would be allowed to set it down without Josh’s approval.

Thankfully, the drummer, a man with hair that reached his mid-back, glanced in her direction and hurried to assist.

“Let me take that,” he offered, already halfway to relieving her of the tray.

“Thank you.”

“No,” he replied with a wide smile, “thank you. This looks awesome.”

She returned his smile, “Its no problem, really.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” then, to the room, “Hey! We got grub!”

Conversations stalled as the group dug in. Eva stood near the bar and folded her hands in front of her as she watched them pick out handfuls of what they wanted. There were nods of approval all around, which she tried not to feel too proud about.

The singer spotted her and called out to Eva around a mouthful of marshmallows, “Come sit with us.”

Eva glanced at Josh and, not seeing any censure in his expression, perched beside the blonde on the sofa. She was a beta, smelled like flowers.

“I’m Lizzy.”

“Eva.”

“Josh’s wife, right?”

Eva nodded.

“Thanks for letting us hang out,” Lizzy said, “Your house is huge.”

Startled by the frank assessment, Eva could not keep herself from a nervous laugh, “Thank you.”

“Our place is kind of a shit hole, but its home, you know?”

The drummer made a sound of disapproval, “That shit hole is a nice place, man.”

Lizzy was unconvinced, “There’s rats, Gene.”

“There’s rats everywhere, Lizzy.”

Eva leaned a bit towards Lizzy, “I can confirm that. Rats can get in almost anywhere.”

She learned that lesson the hard way. One of her first hidden stashes of money got eaten up by the little creatures when she didn’t wrap it carefully enough. Now, every bit of her money was stowed away in metal boxes.

“Alright, alright,” Lizzy conceded, “Its not that bad.” She held up a finger, “But, this place is really nice. Josh told me he was a doctor. You must be head honcho somewhere, right?”

Eva hesitated before saying, “I’m the accountant for the family’s pharmaceutical company.”

Lizzy’s eyes widened, “That’s a big deal, right?” Not waiting for Eva’s response, she turned to Josh, “She’s a big deal.”

Her husband was all smiles, “Eva is pivotal to the finances of the company.”

Across the coffee table, Mr. Jimenez had taken a spot next to the drummer. He rested his weight on the arm of the sofa, observing silently. Eva could not meet his gaze, not after what he’d said at dinner. She was too afraid that she would reveal something in any small, shared look. It was a mistake Eva couldn’t afford to make with Josh so close.

“So, you pay her the big bucks,” Lizzy said with a tease in her voice.

Eva brushed her hand over her brow to conceal the wince. Josh didn’t pay her anything. At least, he didn’t pay her anything that could be considered a salary. She got a weekly allowance that covered the occasional wardrobe update and gas for the car Josh let her drive. Everything else was put on the company card where it could be tracked.

“I don’t pay her nearly enough for all the benefits I get. She handles all the boring paperwork so I don’t have to.”

Lizzy case Eva a sly smile, “I bet she’s good at it.”

“The best,” Josh said. He was no longer smiling and there was a tension around his eyes. Eva began a desperate mental search for a way to change the subject.

“Careful,” Mr. Jimenez cut in, “You keep singing her praises and I might be forced to have Eva come work for me.”

She nearly dropped her face into her hand. Did he have to antagonize her husband?

Eyes narrow, Josh’s voice was firm, “She’d have to want to work for you first.”

Mr. Jimenez was undeterred, “Kidnapping, then.”

What the fuck are you doing? Eva thought, hysterical. Having dinner with them, complimenting her, being nice to her, these were all excusable in light of their business partnership. But this was almost a threat—no, this was blatant threat. Open. Honest. Clear as day.

It was some kind of miracle that none of Josh’s new friends seemed to notice the rise in tension between the two men.

Certainly not Lizzy, who asked, “Are you also in the pharmaceutical business?”

Mr. Jimenez shook his head, “I’m in shipping and transportation. But, Dr. Moore and I are working on a project together.”

Lizzy made a soft ‘oh’ of intrigue, “What kind of project?”

“The boring kind,” Josh answered with an air of finality, “Eva, we haven’t offered our guests any drinks.”

That was her cue to become invisible. The conversation had revolved around her enough and it was time for Josh to re-take the spotlight. She stood and walked behind the bar to mix a large batch of cocktails. In her absence, Josh led the group towards another topic. The band, apparently called Stag Nation. Like, stagnation as in standing still, but two words, as the drummer explained. They were working on their first album. According to Lizzy, the studio guy was a real creep, but Jim (the guitarist) set him straight after he made a pass a Lizzy.

Rather than pour individual glasses, Eva stirred up a pitcher full. She set it and enough glasses for everyone on yet another tray and carried it over to the coffee table. As the drinks were poured, the bass player mentioned the stereo sitting along the back wall near the sliding glass doors.

“You don’t have that many albums,” he said, “for such a nice set up.”

“Ah, man,” Lizzy groaned, “Leave him alone.” Then, to Josh, “Marcus is an audiophile. Half his room is records.”

Marcus was almost convincingly offended, “Those are classics.”

“Most of them don’t even play. They’re literally falling apart.”

“That’s because they are classics!”

This went on for a while as the cocktail in the pitcher was slowly drained. Eva got up and made another. The topic still hadn’t changed by the time she returned with the second round, much to the annoyance of everyone but Marcus and Lizzy.

Gene leaned forward and dug around in his back pocket, “If y’all are gonna keep this shit up, I’m gonna need a joint just to listen to it.” He produced a baggie of what was clearly pot and held it up, “You good if we smoke in here, brother?”

Eva looked at Josh with raised brows. He was no stranger to pot, often smoked with Alexei on their nights out—which Myra could absolutely never find out. But, these were strangers, not his best friend.

“As long as you’ll share,” Josh replied.

Apparently, he didn’t care. Eva hid her surprise by taking a drink from her glass. Quick, effective hands rolled the joint and Gene lit it with Jim’s lighter. Puff. Puff. Pass. Around the circle it went. When it got to Eva, she demurred.

Lizzy poked her arm, “C’mon, its not gonna kill you.”

Josh laughed, “It might not kill her, but Eva’s a real bitch when she smokes. Isn’t that right, Eva?”

It was true. Sort of. Eva didn’t mind the high so much, but it made her less careful. Her words, her facial expression, all revealed what she actually thought and felt. She was a bitch when she smoked because she smoked around Josh and Josh always made her feel like a bitch.

“Its better for everyone if I don’t,” Eva said with a tight smile.

Lizzy shrugged and the joint kept going around—until Mr. Jimenez, too, refused. He had work in the morning and needed a clear head. Eva assessed him for sincerity, then looked down at the coffee table where his half empty glass sat. Had he refilled it even once? How many drinks did he have with dinner?

Mr. Jimenez caught her looking and he cocked his head to the side in question. Was she going to call him out? Eva held his stare for a moment, then looked away. She didn’t have the courage.

When the joint was nothing more than a tiny roach, Marcus got up and started up an album. Frank Sinatra crooned through the speakers. Jim razzed Marcus for picking such an old record, but Marcus just said that it was one of his dad’s favorites.

“At least he still talks to his dad,” Lizzy said as she picked up another handful of marshmallows, “I haven’t even seen mine since last Christmas. He’s convinced I’m singing the devil’s music.”

Eva sympathized with Lizzy. Her parents were equally strict about the kind of music she listened to growing up, “Maybe he’ll get used to it.”

Shaking her head, Lizzy began putting the marshmallows onto the tips of pretzels like tiny skewers, “Nah. He kicked me out when I was sixteen. I only go back to see mama. You got family around here?”

Eva flinched, then worked to correct herself. There was no way Lizzy could know the minefield she’d just stepped out into.

Josh, his eyes drooping, laughed, “She hasn’t had family for a couple years, now.”

Lizzy’s mouth opened in confusion as she looked between Eva and Josh. It was clear that she sensed that there was something being said between the lines and that she was looking to walk back the conversation to a safer topic.

Eva took pity on her, “They died in a plane crash.”

Looking over Lizzy’s shoulder, Eva silently asked Josh to leave it alone. They had guests and they didn’t need to know all the dirty secrets of her marriage. Josh’s mouth thinned and he grabbed his glass to drain it.

“I’m so sorry,” Lizzy breathed.

“Its fine,” Eva replied, “It happened a long time ago.” Then, because she needed to get as much distance as she could, “That pitcher’s almost empty. Let me get y’all another.”

Grabbing up the pitcher, Eva stood and put the bar between herself and the rest of the people in the room. Her hands were shaking as she measured out liquor, mixer, and ice. As she worked, Eva viciously swallowed down the need to cry from grief, from guilt. By the time she poured the drink into the pitcher, Eva was almost as numb as she needed to be in order to get through the rest of the night.

Sinatra’s voice faded away, replaced by CCR.

Eva looked up to find Mr. Jimenez approaching the bar, glass in hand. He set it on the bar and leaned on a forearm beside it. There was a softness in his eyes that unsettled her as much as it made her want to press her cheek to his.

“Did you not like the drink?” Eva asked, needing to talk about something completely innocuous.

“Its a little sweet for me.”

She nodded, reflexively reaching over and grabbing a decanter, “Try this. Its got more fire in it, less sweetness.”

He watched her pour, caught the glass as she slid it across the bar at him, and drank. Eva replaced the decanter as she waited for his verdict.

“Better,” he pronounced.

Eva let herself smile in pleasure. She was about to give him the name of the liquor when an excited squeal took the attention of the entire room.

“You guys have a pool!” Lizzy turned and grinned at Josh, “We gotta go swimming. Right now!”

Another excited yell and the sliding door was pulled open so that Lizzy could run out into the back yard towards the in ground pool. Eva looked at Josh, who was already moving around the sofa. He was smiling, which was good. Her shoulders dropped and she released a slow breath.

“Looks like its time to take this outside,” Eva said as she rounded the bar, pitcher in hand.

Mr. Jimenez watched her the whole way, waiting for her to pass him before he followed. Eva felt the weight of his eyes as she cleared the sliding door. An unwilling smile crossed her lips as she watched their guests disrobe and cast their clothes aside, some of them balancing awkwardly on one leg. At the far end of the pool, near the ladder, Josh was shrugging out of his slacks.

“Eva! Come swim with us!”

She shook her head at Lizzy, “Its too cold for me tonight.”

It was not too cold. Though the summer was near its end, the water would still be warm enough to swim for a few more weeks. Eva set the pitcher down near the edge of the pool and moved to sit on one of the lounge chairs. She gathered her skirt around her legs and folded them beneath her.

Movement to her right. Mr. Jimenez sat on the chair next to her.

“You’re not going for a swim?”

“No,” he replied, eyes on the water, “There’s no place to hang my suit. It would wrinkle.”

“God forbid,” she murmured beneath her breath.

“You aren’t swimming.”

Eva rolled her eyes, “There’s no place to hang my dress.”

He laughed and the hair on her arms stood on end. The sound of it made her stomach flip in her belly, made it difficult to breathe. She swallowed hard and focused on Jim who was doing a front flip into the water. A round of rallying cries went up all around, which made her chuckle.

From this distance, they were just a group a friends having a good time—drinking, laughing, getting high. If Eva didn’t let herself look too closely, she could almost believe that this was a normal night in a normal house.

But, only if she didn’t look too close.

And so, Eva looked at the sky.

“I’m sorry to hear about your parents.”

Eva sighed. If she had a dollar for every time that was said to her she wouldn’t have to steal from her husband. She let the silence hang, tugging back the barb on her tongue. It wasn’t his fault. People often felt compelled to acknowledge her grief.

“It happened a long time ago.”

“Years?”

She hummed in confirmation, hoping that the starlight would dry the tears that threatened.

“My mother once told me that grief has no expiration date, that you can’t put it on a schedule. She said grief was how we knew we loved.”

Eva turned to look at him, her face a mask of confusion. How could he say something like that so casually? Mr. Jimenez—Diego—was just…sitting there. Drink in hand. Legs outstretched. On a fucking lounge chair.

“Thank you,” she croaked, meaning it.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, meaning it.

A loud shriek drew her attention to the pool. Josh was lifting Lizzy and throwing her into the water while her band mates cheered him on. Gene dove in after her, waves rippling outwards. Jim, in vengeance for Lizzy, used both arms to slosh water at Josh. New friends playing old childhood games.

“I need a drink,” Eva announced, slapping both hands on her thighs.

She rose and skirted the edge of the pool, hustling towards the house. Inside, she headed for the bar and grabbed a decanter from it, pouring a healthy amount and taking a long pull from the glass. This night wasn’t going at all like it was supposed to. Eva didn’t, exactly, know how it was supposed to go, but it definitely wasn’t this.

From outside, she heard Diego call out to Josh, asking where the bathroom was, followed by Josh’s muffled reply. Eva refilled her glass and capped the decanter, setting it back in its place. Her first step toward the door was more of a stumble, Diego’s body blocking her intended path.

“Its through there,” she pointed towards the hallway, “first door on your right.”

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes focused on her. Eva stood still as he moved forward. His steps were slow enough to give her time to make a decision about what she was going to do, how she was going to react. Even that extended courtesy wasn’t enough.

Eva held onto her roiling emotions by the skin of her teeth. She was unable to move, to think. All she could do was breathe—which only made things worse. Her nose was filled with his scent. It invaded every synapse of her brain, loosening the muscles of her shoulders and neck until she felt as pliable as taffy.

Diego lifted a hand a ran the back of his fingers down the open neckline of her dress. His wrist turned so that he could press his palm over her stomach. The weight of it grounded her against the burn of hormones that rejoiced in the touch. Eva was reduced down to her omega core as it recognized the alpha before her.

Encouraged, Diego stepped closer, the hand on her stomach smoothing around to her side. He leaned down, nose brushing her jaw, and inhaled. The exhale was not much more than a low groan, but it was enough to startle Eva out of her stupor.

“You have to let me go,” she whispered, checking that no one had noticed their absence.

He shook his head, free hand taking her other hip and pulling her closer. She wanted to be closer, wanted to know what it felt like to be pressed against him. Only long held fear and self-preservation could overrule her body.

Palm on his chest, Eva dipped her chin to catch his gaze, “Diego. Let me go.”

The use of his name seemed to bring him back to the present. He blinked rapidly, then stepped back and around her, walking steadily towards the hall. Eva drew in a cleansing breath and forced herself to walk in the opposite direction.

Outside, she took a sharp right and ducked under the raised terrace. Setting her drink down on the concrete, Eva opened a storage box and pulled out several pool noodles and tossed them into the pool.

“So you don’t drown,” she explained with a smile. “I’m going to bed.”

Lizzy pulled one of the noodles down around her hips and sat on it, “Good night! Thanks for letting us come over!”

Eva waved at her, “No problem.”

Bending down, she picked up her glass and walked back inside. She grabbed the tray of half eaten snacks and dumped most of them in kitchen trash can. After setting the bowls in the sink to be cleaned up the next morning, Eva turned off the light. She crossed the hall, one hand on the banister, when the bathroom door opened.

Diego stopped, one foot in the hall, and stared at her. Eva took the moment to memorize his face, the openness of his expression, before she gave a small nod and ascended the staircase. He watched her until she cleared the landing and turned down the upstairs hallway.

In the safety of her room, Eva closed the door and leaned against it. This was getting out of hand. She didn’t know why Diego was inserting himself into her life—no, she knew. Eva knew.

Every omega knew the stories of finding an alpha that was so compatible that staying away was impossible. It started with cartoon princesses and white knights, moved on to angst ridden teen movies, and finally evolved into R-rated thrillers that came out every Fall.

Eva never placed much stock in those kinds of stories, though she heard local gossip now and again about a pair of lovers bonding within weeks of meeting. It never occurred to her to want such a thing or to think it would ever happen to her.

And, here she was, knee deep in it.

“I hate this so much,” she said to the empty room.

It was sort of true. Mostly, it was a lie.

Eva closed her eyes as she remembered the heat of his hands on her. Her nerves still trembled in the places where they touched. She wished she had the courage to kiss him, to take what he so clearly wanted to give her.

She couldn’t let that happen.

She couldn’t.

If Eva kissed him, she knew there would be no turning back. Her whole world would be shattered into bits, revealing a whole new existence where he sat at the center. She wouldn’t be able to hide it from Josh, certainly not from the ever perceptive Alexei. Eva would be caught red handed and there would be no escaping the consequences. Not for her. Not for him.

They would never survive.

#Shadow and Veil #Narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #AU #a/b/o dynamics #maurice compte

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hotcocoaandstripedsweaters · 7 months

Text

OC-tober Day 10: Kisser in a different time period

Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.

Once again, this has run long--longer even than the last one--so it's under a read more. I just couldn't resist writing a cute little fic cliché with everyone's favorite womp rat.

The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.

Day 1

~+~

Din Djarin has gotten used to rolling with the weird stuff that comes from having a Force Sensitive kid.

Well, he certainly likes to think so, anyway.

Right up until his kid triggers a lightshow in some old ruins and a young Boba Fett falls out in unfamiliar armor.

“Karking shit hells,” Boba groans, face down on the stone floor.

Din has to agree.

Grogu burbles happily, slapping at the symbol he’d touched on the wall. Fortunately, there are no more light shows.

Boba looks Grogu and smiles, lighter and freer than Din has ever seen. “What’s a tubie like you doing out of the creche?” he asks as he sits up.

Grogu babbles happily, toddling over to Boba and gesturing at Din. Boba almost dismisses him, then does a double take.

“Heyyyyy, Mando,” he draws out the greeting uncertainly, in a distinctly un-Boba-like fashion.

“Fett,” Din greets.

Boba tilts his head in confusion, even as he holds a hand out to Grogu–palm open, relaxed, and not poised to grab. “Sorry, you got the wrong guy. Name’s Kisser.”

It’s Din’s turn to tilt his head. Grogu babbles and slaps at the proffered hand happily.

“Buuur,” Grogu coos.

“Yeah, your buir’s got me mixed up with someone,” Kisser says, nonchalant despite not taking his eyes off Din. “Why’d you bring me here, youngling? Need some help?”

“He likes old Temples,” Din says, as if that explains anything.

Kisser glances around. “Ah, Force Nonsense.”

“You’re familiar with Jedi magic?” Din’s surprised. He doesn’t know many people who sound so confident when it comes to Grogu’s magic.

Kisser laughs and confirms, “Yeah, enough to know most of them will reflexively tell you it isn’t magic. Why? You need one?”

Din shakes his head. “The kid chose to stay with me, rather than his teacher.”

“Aww,” Kisser coos, turning to Grogu, “You really love your buir, huh?”

Grogu shrieks happily, tugging Kisser’s fingers as though to pull him closer to Din.

“Kid,” Din scolds, “Give him a minute.”

“Nahhh, it’s alright,” Kisser waves off Din’s protest, standing in a crouch so that Grogu can drag him over to Din. When Grogu lets go of his fingers in favor of clinging to Din’s shin, Kisser stands. He’s a little taller than Boba is, and younger. He doesn’t have the same scars, and his attitude is completely different as he smiles at Din. “Seems like your kid wants me to meet you properly.”

“Seems so.”

“Think I can head back the way I came?”

“Probably not.”

Kisser sighs, “Thought you might say that.” He opens a panel in his vambrace and taps at some kind of navigation unit. “Looks like we’re out in Mandospace too. You don’t happen to be on good terms with Kryze, by any chance?”

Din shrugs, “We didn’t part on good terms. You know her?”

“Not personally,” Kisser says casually, “But I heard a rumor my General was pretty close with her once upon a time. Thought she might be able to get a call out to him.”

“I got comms on my ship,” Din offers slowly.

Kisser looks up from his nav in surprise. “You sure?”

“Why not?” Din counters, curious.

“Mandalorians don’t like Jedi and Mandalorians don’t like Vode,” Kisser says, confident as though he’s listing simple truths of the universe. “Figured with a kid on board, you wouldn’t want me there.”

Grogu makes an affronted noise and starts crawling up Din’s leg. He snorts and picks up the little womp rat.

“There are a lot of different kinds of Mandalorians,” he says, as though he has always known this and it isn’t at all a recent revelation. He turns to lead the way to his ship.

“You know Jango Fett,” Kisser protests, even as he keeps pace. His tone is light, but the way he glances around for another exit betrays his hesitation.

“Don’t know a Jango,” Din corrects him, “Just Boba.”

Kisser looks startled, “How?”

“He took over Mos Espa on Tatooine.” Din shrugs.

“They let kids take over cities out there?”

“Kids?”

“He’s not even fourteen standard yet, is he?” Kisser protests, doing a quick count on his hands.

“He’s older than you,” Din says, baffled.

“Well yeah,” Kisser scoffs, as if it’s obvious, “But I know some Vode decanted around the same time as him, and they said he ages like a Human.”

Din eyeballs him, “And you’re not Human?”

“I’m a Vod,” Kisser eyeballs him right back. “A clone. Do you not get Republic news out here?”

“Which Republic?” Din says tiredly. There were so many ridiculous little governances since the Empire started shattering, how was he supposed to keep up?

“Which–?” Kisser splutters, coming to a stop in his shock. “The one that standardized Galactic Basic, also known as Republic Basic? The language we’re speaking?? Right now???”

“I thought that was the Empire?” Din tries to reach back to the history lessons he got before he was adopted by the covert, but it’s too fuzzy.

“Empire?!” Kisser shrieks. Grogu makes soothing noises, a toddler’s imitation of what Din does to calm him down. His adorableness is wasted on the distracted adults.

Din tilts his head. “They’re the largest single government in the galaxy?”

“The Republic is the largest single government in the galaxy!” Kisser says despairingly.

They stare at each other.

“Clone like…the Clone Wars?” Din finally asks. He doesn’t really want him to answer.

Kisser, blessedly, doesn’t. “How old is Boba Fett, exactly?”

“Let’s go ask.”

The walk is tense and quiet, but they get back to the ship. When Boba answers the call, Kisser takes one look at him and is gone–armor falling to the floor, letting out a small puff of dust.

“What the hell was that, Djarin?” Boba demands.

“A Vod,” Din says, completely bewildered.

Grogu bursts into tears.

~+~

Day 11

#star wars #clone oc #oc-tober #prompts

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celestemagnoliathewriter · 2 years

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Marauders' Era Fics - One Fic Writer's Opinions on why they are so stupidly divisive

AKA opinions no one asked for but I'm putting out into the world anyway ;) ...also caveat these are my observations, some are clearly generalizations, I'm aware that I can't have read all the fics, etc, my opinions are likely biased by something or other but I'll try my best to make them unbiased in this post.

So - I started reading HP fanfic less than a year ago. In this time, one of the most divisive things I've found are Marauder era fics.

Why? Because it's really fucking hard, IMO, to write a good Marauder era long fic (the 70s) without falling into traps that divide folks. (One shots/short fics are exceptions)

Here are the main problems with the Marauder era:

It's boring. Until the late 70s when Voldemort's activity is rising and the betrayals happen, it's dull. It's boarding school kids being brats to each other and a werewolf running around Hogwarts.

Because it's boring, fic writers (myself included) have to come up with either a) plot points and/or b) solid characterization and character changes to get from 1971 to 1981 with a compelling story. What makes a compelling story?

I'm glad you asked. Ideally, from what I've read/seen, it's plot AND characterization. The plot develops, the characters change. One of the key drivers of my fics has been writing a story, not just a bunch of interrelated situations. So, what's the issue with Marauder fics? They rely, IMO, either on convoluted plots that don't change the characters OR they have to reinvent the characters in a way that makes them too OOC.

The issue I see with most Marauder fics is that it's EITHER a bunch of situations and the characters don't really change OR the characters change so that they're unrecognizable to their canon counterparts. The Marauders are tiny versions at age 11 of who they'll become when they die. Sure, they build friendships/relationships, but besides coming of age (which is totally fine as a story, and I think that explains why ATYD is so popular because of Remus's changes from beginning to end, or Debt of Time, because of Hermione/Mia's changes), but otherwise, that's what Marauder era fics must rely on, IMO, in order to be successful. It's the character changes that make the story compelling, not the plot or story itself.

Next point. The characterizations, in my opinion, are why the Marauder era fics are divisive. Lacking plot we need character building but it takes a tremendous amount of effort to work backwards from the broken men in canon to the children we only get glimpses of - let's talk examples now:

Severus Snape, at 11, is not an evil child who poo-poos on James Potter because Snape is inherently evil. Snape is a poor, likely abused child who sees a snobby, rich, pampered boy and reacts in jealousy. Snape isn't blameless. He's not perfect by any means and there are plenty of situations in which there are no excuses for his behaviors. Setting him up as an evil antagonist as a child (eg bashing) assassinates his character. Yeah, he's a dick in many ways but he grows up more in the 70s AND MATURES more than the other characters, who grow up LATER.

Sirius Black, at age 11, is already at odds with his family. He's a defiant little shit who makes friends and sticks up for ONLY who he thinks is worthy of his time. It's all too easy to pick on Snape (again, he's not blameless either, but why not take the high road, Sirius?). He grows up somewhat as a result of what happened to the Potters, but it's a stunted growth because of Azkaban. He does become the best godfather to Harry as he can be (Who eats rats for their godson? Respect, bro.) That being said, I'd rather read about Sirius as an adult because as a teen he's a prick. I love him a lot in later years but reading about him as a Marauder is nauseating sometimes because his behavior is glorified or justified because Snape is "evil."

Remus Lupin, at age 11, is somewhat dull. Yeah, he's a kid werewolf so he has among the most potential (besides Snape) to grow up and get good character development. The problem is he's set up immediately with the other boys who are so confident, and Remus so insecure, that he bends over backwards to defend them. He doesn't really grow up till later because he's NOT challenged to grow. Other than the werewolf business (and I fucking LOVE Remus Lupin, btw) he doesn't have much potential till he's older. This creates a problem for Marauder fics, because if he's dull, we've got to spice up his character in lieu of a good plot. This is my main beef with ATYD - Remus is a gay, dyslexic, orphan werewolf. YIKES. That's the starting point for Remus to get to his canon character and I'm just not buying it. He's cowardly and it takes someone like Tonks to change him because he's not truly challenged as a teenager.

So, what DOES make a good Marauder fic? Either telling the story from a more complex/challenged character and seeing them change (Snape, Peter) OR creating plot lines that make it AU. Lacking that, it's all about (mis)characterization and that's what makes these fics so divisive. Or, just doing one shots, short fics, or centering on 1979-1981.

I like the Marauders well enough and I think there's plenty of fertile ground for good one shots and short fics of their Hogwarts years. Sirius and Remus are WAY better characters as adults than as teens. I also like Snape well enough. He's not perfect and a lot of his behavior is appalling (most adults in the HP series are incompetent or cruel) but he was necessary for Voldemort to be defeated. I'll make a separate post one day on Snape, but this post was mostly about Marauder fics and why they're divisive.

Alright, that's all. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far.

(One day I'll make a post on why I hate wolfstar so much, too, but in short I legit can't see Sirius Black being into shabby, shy Remus when he has confident, cool James Potter right there, even less so when we consider the prank involving Snape and the mutual betrayals. yeah, it's great fodder for relationships (cool angst) but not seeing it as a sustainable ship at all)

#marauders #marauders fandom #marauders harry potter #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black #harry potter fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #james potter #lily evans potter #severus snape #hogwarts #slytherin #gryffindor #jily #ao3 writer #ao3 author

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chaoticoctopus616 · 2 years

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I finally finished the A Monster in Paris Period fic!!

DISCLAIMER: 18+ Contains Topics pertaining to the Menstrual Cycle, Female, the French, and reference to a certain ship from 1912.

Also its super rushed and my first time writing this so it might be 😬 and I'm tired so good night

Being a waitress at a cabaret in Paris is one thing but being a waitress in Paris while barely knowing much French is another. You were relieved to know that the customers here are very patient, they had to be if they let that "thing" perform on stage.

He was a terrifying sight. With an eight foot frame, iridescent blue "skin" and blood red eyes, he looks like he belongs in that Princess of Mars story you read in that one magazine. You wondered if Lucille's "he was a flea who turned giant with these potions two years ago" story was a cover up for extraterrestrial origin.

It was a very busy day at the cabaret and on this particular day you've been "in a mood" or Lucille's boyfriend, Raoul, says in English, "Crabby like what you Americans fish."

"Raoul, They fish lobsters and I'm not from Maine." You sighed.

Raoul, who looked like he gave away his last care, said in French, "Well it was worth a try. Anyway, Lucille wants to invite you to the party we're having after work." Giving the same attitude you reply, "I hope my crabbiness doesn't ruin it."

Your foul mood clouded your thoughts that you almost did not hear a customer calling out, "Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle!" You turn over to the mustachioed customer and he said in a hushed tone "Pardonne moi, vous saignez" it took you a while to process that as "Excuse me, miss, but you're bleeding." Then the man discreetly pointed at the small trail of splatters that lead to you. That moment your heart sank to your stomach and the only thing you thought to do was to set down your tray and run to the nearest room backstage.

Now alone you lift up your now stained petticoat, you saw the trails of blood streaming down your legs. "No,no,no," you whispered to yourself. Moments like this make you wish that you got to board the Titanic like you were meant to, if only you hadn't lost your passport. Oh shit, you realized why Lucille was so nice to you. Your mind was now more overwhelmed by the pity you received and the hot moist feeling in your loins. Little did you know that the monstrous co-star of the cabaret found the mark you made on the bar's floor.

You heard a knocking on the door, "Lucile thank God you're…" exclaimed. But instead of Lucille it was the monster you dreaded to encounter.

"I'm sorry… ahm… Je suis désolée, ah… Monsieur Francœur. I didn't know that this was your dressing room." You managed to get out as fear blocked your throat. He lifted up his hand to display the bright red stain on the first two fingers of his white glove.

"Oh! oh… you, wait you literally touched a random puddle of blood, like on the ground."

He chuckled softly and in a sweet tenor voice he said, "That's what us fleas do to find nourishment." His accent added some charm to such a sentence.

Francœr usually had no problems dealing with the flea instinct to consume blood as it was usually remedied with cows blood or pigs blood, maybe the occasional rat but never craving humans blood. He and his friends figured out how to deal with possible problems fairly quickly, such as when they found out he can tell when a woman's on her time of the month such and dealing with behaviors such as constant sniffing the air around the woman or trailing a bit too close to her. But with you he's fighting real hard, like instincts where about to resurface but he tried his best to act civil.

He hung up his jacket and his hat, asking "Is there anything I could do to help you, Mademoiselle?" He bends down to kiss your hand but he end up catching a wife of your scent. You noticed this and backed away, what does it mean when this well dressed arthropod-like titan smells the air around you so animalistically. Unfortunately looking back at him you seemed to have lost your wits in his eyes and told him, "Can you clean me up?"

He surprised and with a purpose shuffled around his room in vain to find something, but you stopped him. "You're a flea right?" You said. Francœr cocked his head in confusion, mask starting to slip off. "Fleas drink blood." When you said that it clicked, he nodded and said "Do you mind if I removed my masque first?" You said it was fine and his deft hands went to work untying the ribbon holding it up

Mask off, your mental image of him shatters. On stage he was always so suave and that mask made him look a bit smug. But now, with more of his eyes exposed and lack of nose, appeared more innocent. Another thing that showed was his nervousness, as the skin around his "nose area" scrunches up, inhaling your metallic scent, you notice the area where his eyebrows should be was wrinkled to indicate a worried feel.

"It's alright" You reassured him. "Start small then work your way up, I'll tell you when somethings wrong." Your gentleness made it's way to his heart and he went to work. Lifting your skirt up, he started at the middle of your thigh and began trailing up it with his tongue, your breath hitched up with the shock of how hard and raspy it was. He back up a little bit and looked up at you, "Keeping going," you said. And he kept on going lapping up all the streams of blood you had made till he reached your vulva, the sweat earth scent had entranced him but he knew he could stop if you wanted to. Looking into his hungry red eyes, blood slipping out a corner of his mouth you hear him ask "Please" His plead, was something different, it was not innocence nor animalistic it was kinda sexual, however you felt like it was ok to let him give in to his nature as you have gave in when you asked him to clean you up. "Absolutely" You kissed his hard for head.

He said something you didn't understand but it was so sensual sounding that you chose to interpret it anyway you wanted. You just responded with "Bon Appetit"

He worked his way to the labial folds in a slow methodical fashion, making sure any blood was now in his mouth. This mad you squirming with excitement as you feel his hot breath land on your skin Then with his tongue he tried lapping the blood from the clitoral area created the right pressure in just the right place. Your period enlarged it as well as it's sensitivity, that's when the moaning came in, and you wanted more of this feeling so you pressed into Francœr's face. More!" You cry and more he delivered, and by the sound of him joining in your moaning session was a surprise. He began moaning into your legs while having his fill. Now he was finally a the source of your instead of another moan, a purring chirp emitted from the bug man. It felt divine as his tongue scraped the walls of your crevice. And you were about to expect more when.

"Francœr, have you seen the new waitress, I assumed she went to the inn but I couldn't find her.." Lucille said, opening the unlocked door. There she found him face deep into you. Her face now a deep scarlet, well all faces in the room was covered in a deep red color one way or another. "Oh Pardonne moi… I did not mean to intrude." She left, however she didn't close the door enough, leading to her conversation outside to be heard.

You heard Raoul say "Hey have you found her." Lucille then explained the situation and then Raoul laugh " I hope he remembered our talk about the birds and the fleas"

This kind of ruined the good mood that you were in, suddenly Francœr moved his face still dripping with blood next to your ear and whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Fin

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