#god i remember when i was a kid the local college station played this a couple times before it went off air probably months later

[stxrrywildflower]

echo

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - you have to protect henry from an unsub

warnings - mentions of case, violence, injury

word count - ?

when you were sixteen, j.j. and will hired you to be nanny for henry due to their demanding jobs as an fbi profiler and police detective. obviously, you had agreed as you would need the money for college soon.

the two parents were incredibly welcoming, immediately treating you as one of their own. henry loved you too, always being such a good kid when you babysat for him.

however, you knew that with both of their jobs. you were at some risk. j.j. and will planned ahead, giving the code word of ‘echo’ incase you were ever in trouble. one text to them and they would instantly go into full parent mode. it was only to be used in emergencies, such as if henry got seriously injured or some criminal threat.

tonight, for the first time ever, you had to use the code word.

it was a fairly normal friday afternoon. j.j. had called and asked if you could babysit henry while her and will worked the same case. the exact details weren’t revealed but you knew it was bad judging by the news as well as the fact that two separate divisions were solving the case together.

after being dropped off at the families home, you slung your backpack on your back and walked through the gates up to the front door. you first knocked on the door before stepping back. will opened the door a moment later, greeting you with a slight smile, “hey y/n.”

“hey will, is j.j. already working?” you asked, spinning around when you heard thumping on the stairs.

henry rushed in and immediately ran into your arms. you grinned at the young boy and picked him up, placing him on your hip as you ruffled his hair.

“yeah she had to head in early. i just have to grab my bag and then i’m heading out,” will informed you before leaving the room to get his stuff.

you had been babysitting henry long enough that you didn’t need instructions from them. everything was already memorized. henry jumped out of your arms and ran into the living room.

will walked in with his bag and kissed henry on the forehead to say goodbye. “i’m not super sure when we’ll be back. you already know everything and where your room is if you stay over. thanks again,” and with that, the police detective left the house to drive to quantico.

“alright henry,” you started, “you ready for lunch?” henry’s giggle was answer enough.

for the next six or so hours, you and henry played games, colored, and finally watched tv. by eight pm, he had finally settled down to watch a movie.

while henry’s eyes were glued to the tv, you slipped out of the living room and grabbed your phone so you could watch the local news without scaring or distracting him. the breaking news made you extremely uneasy.

“the local killer who has been terrorizing washington d.c. has been reported to be roaming the streets. all residents have been advised to stay inside and lock there doors. a picture should be showing up on your screens now. if you see this man, please contact the police,” the news anchor reported.

you slipped your phone into your pocket and made your rounds around the house to double check that the doors were locked. just as you were locking one of the windows in the front, you noticed a strange van outside of the house.

at first, you thought that it might have been one of the neighbors or some utility truck. but, after the man inside stepped out, you filled with panic. standing outside of the house, just seconds away from walking up, was the killer on the loose. he seemed to noticed your figure in the window and grinned wickedly.

he was targeting you. he was going to storm in this house and kill you. he was going to kill you and then kill henry. oh my god, henry.

you were on autopilot as you ran through the house, picking henry up in one swift motion and only putting him down when you hit the stairs.

“remember when we would play hide-and-go-seek?” you started. upon seeing the young boys nod, you continued, “i need you to go upstairs and find the best hiding spot you can. stay quiet and don’t move until i come and get you. there’s a man outside who wants to hurt us. i love you henry. now go hide.”

“i love you too,” henry replied before running up the stairs and down the hallway as fast as his little legs could take him.

you slipped behind a wall, thankful that you kept your phone with you. after taking a deep breath, you opened the messaging app and clicked on j.j.’s contact. it was a simple four letter word that you sent that could potentially save your life.

‘echo’ you typed before pressing the send button.

by now, all the lights in the house went out. you ditched your phone on the ground just before the front door slammed open. you shut your eyes, a stray tear slipping down your face. it was now or never.

at quantico, j.j. sat at her desk surrounded by the team at their individual work stations. will remained next to his wife while many of the other cops were out on the street. just as j.j. finished going over one of the files about the unsubs past life, her phone buzzed.

j.j.’s furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed it was a message from you. one four letter word was displayed across her screen. ‘echo’ she read.

“oh my god,” j.j. spoke as she jumped out of her chair, grabbing her bag and making sure her gun was on her hip. “hey,” will called, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from going anywhere.

“echo will, echo,” j.j. repeated. after those words processed, will stood up too, his eyes going wide.

hotch and rossi both emerged from their office and walked down into the bullpen. “what’s going on?” the unit chief asked.

“i think the unsub is at my house. y/n sent a text with our code word she only uses in emergencies,” j.j. ranted as she ran her hand through her hair. hotch pondered for a split second before turning to the room.

“let’s go,” was all he said.

meanwhile, back at the house, loud footsteps walked through the house. a million different scenerios flowed through your mind. if you stayed put and hoped j.j. was on her way, you could just hide and hopefully wait it out. but, there was always the chance the man would discover you. the second option was that you fought back. the only con is that he had a knife and you had just barely above average fighting skills.

after choosing the later decision, you went into full stealth mode to find the best vantage point. as you slipped through the rooms and behind various furniture, you held back a smirk as the killer looked around randomly.

finally, when the mans back was turned, you striked.

the first attack was a solid kick to the back of his knees. the mans knife clattered across the floor as he stumbles slightly. you held your hands up in fists as the killer turned around. he charged at you, pushing you back into the wall. a hard punch was landed to your nose and eyes. your lip managed to split in the process too along with your injured ribs from the tackle. you managed to get out of his grip and kick him in the crotch. when he doubled over, you elbowed him in the back causing him to cripple to the ground.

you were honestly slightly proud of yourself for making it this far but you still had a long way to go. after kneeling down beside him, you punched him once in the nose to add to the pain. the final blow, which knocked him out, was a hard kick to the head.

with shaky hands, you rushed out of the main room and into the connected garage. as fast as you could, you rummaged through the cabinet trying to find something to further prevent the man from causing anymore harm. you stumbled upon zip ties and let out a sigh of relief.

you fastened the zip ties around his wrists and ankles thus preventing him from moving if he did wake up. you left the man on the floor and ran to the stairs.

“henry!” you called, your voice echoing up the stairs, “it’s safe, you can come out now.” maybe that last part was a slight lie but you needed henry to know that it was okay.

the blond-haired boy peered around the railing before running down the stairs and into your arms. despite the pain it brought your ribs, you picked henry up and placed him on your hip as you hugged him. after moving into the main living room, you leaned against the back of the couch and shut your eyes.

for the second time that night, the door slammed open. in stormed the bau team and you could hear other sirens outside. you winced at the lights being turned on so suddenly but still turned to face the group.

j.j. and will immediately rushed over to where you were with henry. will took his son out of your arms and lead him away from the scene. j.j., however, pulled you into a hug, cradling your head with her hand as you began to cry. you were sure that the blood from your nose was definitely getting on her vest.

“i’m sorry,” you choked out.

frowning, j.j. pulled away and placed her hands on your cheeks. yours, in contrast, moved to hold her wrists.

“hey, don’t even say that. you saved henry and for the most part, saved yourself. did you take him down all by yourself?” j.j. questioned.

you nodded as you used the back of your hand to wipe away some of the blood on your face. “i am so proud of you.”

the man was all but thrown into the police car as hotch walked over to where you and j.j. were still standing. “ambulance it waiting,” the man spoke. she turned to you, “we need to get you to a hospital to look at your injuries. i know your parents are out of town and i’m already down as an emergency contact. is it all right if i go with you?”

j.j.’s voice mirrored the one she used for henry. after shaking your head yes, j.j. wrapped an arm around you before leading you out of the house and to the driveway.

with one final smile to will and henry, you both climbed inside, j.j. holding your hand the entire way.

#criminal #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #teen reader #bau team #bau team x teen reader

[palimpsessed]

Writerly Ephemera

I was tagged by @amywaterwings @mostlymaudlin @tea-brigade @effing-numpties @captain-aralias @bloodiedpixie . This is so cool, so thanks for sharing yours! ❤️

Per Amy: We add little bits of ourselves to our writing, scattering memories and places and phrases and things into our stories. The game is to find five examples of this, of YOU, in your writing and show everyone.

I don’t really feel like I put much of my own experiences into my fic, probably because I don’t feel like I have a lot of experiences to pull from. (That’s not me being self-deprecating; that’s me never going anywhere or doing anything.) So, let’s see what we come up with!

Going to tag here. I feel like I’ve gotten to this late so I’m not sure who has been tagged. Anyway. No pressure, loves. Just saying hi. 🥰 @theflyingpeach @bazzybelle @otherworldsivelivedin @unseelieseelie @wetheformidables @caitybug @nightimedreamersworld @foolofabookwyrm @stillmadaboutpetra

1. I have put the most of myself into A Man of Letters. I have my degree in English Lit and when I was in college, I was at the height of my Jane Austen obsession. So I sort of built my degree around the development of the English novel. My senior thesis was on a book called Evelina by Frances Burney, who was one of Austen’s greatest literary influences. Evelina is an epistolary novel—told entirely in letters. I love the epistolary form, for the same reason I love dialogue and texting fics. It’s such a fun narrative technique and can reveal so much about individual characters. It’s actually a bit like the way Rainbow Rowell uses multi POV in her books. Anyway, my love of the epistle was on full display in this fic, which is ofc told in letters. —Do I share a passage? That’s like...the whole fic 😅 So, idk. Here’s Simon being a disaster as he meditates on letter writing:

Dear Penny,

As I start this letter, I already know I'm not going to post it. I know I won't be able to bring myself to do it, because of what I have to say to you. I do feel bad. It's not that I don't want to tell you. And you know I'm so much better at writing things down than saying them out loud. It's only that I feel like this would all sound better coming from me in person. I just don't think I'll be able to make you understand in a letter. I'm still trying to understand myself. And writing all of this down helps me with that. Even if I'm only pretending to write to you, it makes me feel better, to think of you on the other end. I promise I really will tell you everything as soon as we're together again.

2. Also for A Man of Letters, my fascination with Regency fashions, in particular the dandy, was a major factor. I did an art book about this, comparing how fashion has changed over time, especially in regard to gender. (I also did an art book based on Evelina, since I’m on the subject. I minored in book art. 😁) I always fancied the look of a Regency dandy, so that was my gift to Baz.

Whoever has been working their magic on Salisbury should in fact be the person to whom I offer my eternal devotion. Alas, I am left to flounder under the burden of lusting after a man who is incapable of dressing himself.

The utter and unmitigated shame.

Salisbury wore a forest green wool frock coat that set off the golden highlights in his brown locks. This was accented with a green and aubergine striped silk waistcoat that was trimmed in white piping and felt much too daring a pattern for the man. (I don't care if he was a soldier; it takes a hardier man than him by half to choose a stripe like that.) His charcoal trousers were enticingly snug, but not so much to prove lethal. His cravat and points left much to be desired, though that likely reflected poorly on his ability to keep himself in order, rather than the ability of his valet. (Good God, maybe the man doesn't even have a valet!)

3. When it came to my countdown fic, To the Manor Borne, I had Shep make a reference to Cluedo, because Pitch Manor would be perfect for a real life game. Behind that, is the fact that my family played a lot of Clue and I watched the movie a whole bunch growing up, to the point where my sister and I used to quote it to each other. This was a way to pay homage to that. He also talks about playing the game Murder in the Dark, which was one I played at Halloween as a kid. One of my cousins was dressed as a ghoul with glow in the dark face paint and we were in my grandma’s creepy upstairs. Perfect vibes.

I’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room and the library and the study and the parlor. Walking through this house is like playing Clue. (They call it Cluedo on this side of the pond, because they like to be difficult.) (That was a whole thing. Do not get me started.)

I keep thinking Colonel Mustard’s going to pop up out of nowhere and brain me with a lead pipe.

And:

What kind of games do you play with magickal friends who don't have magic? Twister? Not with the wings and tail. Cards? Baz and Penny would cheat. Or accuse everyone else of cheating if they didn't win. Murder in the dark? With these people, in this house, I knew it would turn literal fast, and also it was like ten in the morning. Hide and seek? Simon and I would hide and everyone else would ditch. Snowball fight? World War III.

4. I’ve referenced Mozart in my fics a couple of times because when I was first getting into classical music, I was listening to a lot of Mozart. My sister had a CD of some of his early symphonies, and my local classical station does “Mozart in the Mornings” which happened to fit in the exact time slot between two morning classes I had my first year in college. I’d go sit in my car with a cup of tea, and just vibe with Mozart as my soundtrack. I’ve name dropped him in both A Man of Letters and To the Manor Borne. Also, Mozart wrote 12 variations on the melody shared by Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, which is a lovely tie in. (I also had the gang sing/cast The Holly and the Ivy, which is one of my favorite Christmas carols, and by strange coincidence was playing on the radio at the same time I wrote that scene. 🥰)

"It's a songbook," I tell him, like he can't figure that out for himself. "Did you know that Mozart wrote twelve different versions of the same song?"

He's laughing. "Mozart did not write Twinkle, twinkle, little star, Simon."

"You know what I mean."

"He composed twelve variations for solo piano on the French folk melody Ah! Vous dirai-je, maman."

"Sure. Anyway, this is for the violin. For you to play."

He's still laughing, and I'm trying to figure out what's so funny, but then he kisses me again, on the lips this time, so I figure maybe I'm still doing okay.

Only one more to go! What will it be? 👀

5. Therapy! Eheheh...😅 Look, it’s no secret the gang needs it. And tbh, so do I. Haven’t actually managed to get myself to go yet, and I think that’s where a lot of my “send them to therapy” happy endings come from. I did it in Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne. I started Chamber by Chamber with SnowBaz already in therapy, and then structured the whole thing around therapy that they give to each other and to themselves. It didn’t really fit in A Man of Letters, but if it had, I absolutely would have done it. I’ve only shared from two fics so far, and since it could kind of spoil the ending to Use Your Words (tho saying this may be spoiler anyway...), here are two snippets from It’s a Kind of Magic, Part I of Chamber by Chamber.

I've been working on articulating my needs. We both have. Ordinarily, I'd be afraid of pushing him away by making demands when he's on the verge of a spiral, but my therapist insists that I can't go on treating Simon with kid gloves. If I never ask him for anything, he'll think he doesn't have anything to give.

And

When I told that to my therapist, she said that I needed to talk it out of me and she'd help me find ways to work through it all. She said I needed to talk it out with Baz, too, so that he'd know how to help me when things got bad again—that was something else she said, that things would get bad again, and that I'd need to be prepared for that. That I couldn't expect things to be easy, and just go away.

6. BONUS! I think the biggest way I include bits of myself is in the AUs I’ve chosen to write. I have three I’m planning that say a lot about me, so I’m going to talk a bit about them here. There is ofc my Scooby Doo AU, inspired in large part by the fact that I watched it all the time growing up and also, my sister continues to be obsessed with it. When we were young, my parents were doing a lot of work on their house and we’d take family trips to the hardware store. My sister and I hated it, so we’d wait in the car with my mom and she would entertain us with “Scooby Doo stories”. Other AUs I’m planning? Troop Beverly Hills—please tell me someone else out there loved this movie the way I did when I was 5. It was very influential to baby me and I remember wishing for nothing more than being able to dress like Shelley Long. So, I’m going to let Baz do it, because I think he deserves it. 🥰 Lastly, tho it will probably be the first I write, is my Cupid and Psyche AU, from when I was heavy into mythology and religion. Since these are all forthcoming projects, I don’t really have a snippet. Instead, here’s Baz comparing Simon to Eros, which is what started my brain on that particular AU.

I am lost. I barely know anything about Salisbury, but I can't help being drawn in. At one time, I could have comforted myself that I was only so smitten with him because he looks like he was sculpted by Praxiteles. That excuse grows weaker with every encounter. He's the furthest thing from a lifeless tribute to beauty in marble as one can be. There is something deep and dark and feral inside of him and I want to claw it out. I want to see it, to let it free. To taste his wildness and his pain.

#tag game #writerly ephemera

[notmydayjob]

Requited

This is my manifesto of my love for criminal minds and the lovely Dr. Spencer Reid. Also I know some of the ages are a little fucked up but just suspend your disbelief for a second.

Summary: You grew up with Spencer but after meeting again years later due to one of Spencer’s cases you find yourselves rekindling an old friendship and maybe a little more.

Warnings: all the angst you’d expect from a CM episode, and sassy sexy Dr. Reid being adorable.

It’s been five, no- six years since you’ve seen him. You tried not to keep track but that was easier said than done. He was your best friend in Elementary and Highschool but as you both grew up you grew apart as well.

 You and Spencer were the most unlikely of friends as kids, the same age but nearly three grades apart. That of course was Spencer’s fault. You met in the third grade after your family moved to Nevada and Spencer was the only kid who was also sitting alone. After a while, you made more friends but none of them were as interesting as Spencer. He could read so fast and he knew so many things and sometimes you could even get him to recite books from beginning to end for you. He asked you things that you’d never really thought about like why the sky is blue or why the grass is green and when you said you didn’t know he’d explain it to you with big confusing words until you’d make him simplify it for you. You weren’t dumb but you weren’t Spencer, and part of you always knew he wouldn’t stick around. When you went to the fourth grade he went to fifth, spent two months there, and then went to sixth. You thought that would be the last time you saw him.

On your first day of Freshman year, you headed to the cafeteria with your friends and when you sat down and looked up you saw a kid your age, with long hair that curled at the ends, and big glasses, and was rapidly flipping through the pages of a book. One of your friends made a snarky comment and the other laughed but you stood up and quickly walked other to the boy, you honestly didn’t know why. Maybe it was because you hadn’t seen him since third grade or maybe it was because he had gotten so handsome in your time apart. 

“Spencer?” You said to the boy which made him shoot his head up in confusion. You waited for a second to see if he’d recognize you but after a moment of silence, you continued. “It’s (Y/n), we knew each other in elementary school.”

“Oh, yeah I remember. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.” He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and smiled up at you. Spencer didn’t really smile that much, not at people at least, but he always smiled at you. You sat down next to him, eager to get caught up. 

“I figured you’d be finished with college by now,” You joked which caused him to chuckle softly.

“Next year, I’m a senior now.” He recognized the apprehension in his voice. Even when you were little Spencer got teased a lot for being ahead you couldn’t even imagine what it was like now.                                         

“Are you even human?” You giggled. “What are you even reading that you haven’t read before?”

And so your friendship picked up again, exactly where it left off. Now instead of why the sky was blue, it was theoretical mathematics and physics.

The two of you spent the whole year together, you’d go to the library and he’d finish three books in the time you could finish chapter one, and still, if you were lucky you could get him to read to you. You were there when he got his acceptance letter from Caltech, he was so nervous when opening the email but he’d never admit it. Once you forced him to open the letter and you began to read it but by that time he had already finished it. 

“I got in.” He said almost too calmly. 

“What?” You gasped. He spun around in his swivel chair and looked up at you with a smile. 

“I got in!” He shot up and wrapped his arms around you. You were taken slightly aback at the physical contact. Spencer was a slight germaphobe but you still found opportunities to invade his personal space...respectfully.

And then again he left. The good news was Caltech was only a few hours away, you still saw each other on weekends, sometimes you’d come to visit his dorm and sometimes he’d come back home and visit you. You were also there when he had his mom hospitalized, you both knew it was the best thing to do but it was still hard for him to do. That was the first time you ever saw him cry, not when his dad left although you were sure that he did just never around you. Now Spencer cried, he tried to hide it from you but he couldn’t, you would wrap your arms around his waist and let him lean down to cry onto your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” He’d say to you after he had calmed himself.

“Why?” You asked as you ran your fingers through his long hair. 

“I never want you to see me weak.” He’d always say.

“You’re the strongest person I know.” 

As your senior year came to an end this time it was time for you to make the decision, stay, or go. Ultimately you stayed, applied to somewhere local, you didn’t want to admit that it was because Spence was close or because the town reminded you of him but you couldn’t deny it played a role. You hated Las Vegas, it was full of gamblers, pimps, and prostitutes and the heat was terrible. Sometimes Reid would take you to the Strip and you’d watch the people come and go, maybe that’s when he decided he wanted to be a profiler, you could sit there for hours and listen to him get all into people's business. Those were the memories you stayed for. 

Your third year was when Spencer left for Virginia, two Ph.D. 's in Math and Engineering, working on a third in Sociology and he chose to go to the FBI Academy. You were so proud of him but your heart broke to watch him get on that plane. You both cried when you said goodbye at the airport.

“I’ll call you every day.” He said, and for a while, he did but after that first night when you stayed up past midnight waiting for him to call but he never did. That was when you realized it would never be the same. You spoke to him every day, every week, every month, once a year, but now six years since he left and you haven’t even spoken to him in five. Until today.

“What the hell is happening?” You asked your boss as you saw a group of men and women going through the files in your office. 

“The Feds,” He nodded at the group on the other side of the windows. “They wanted information on a kid you used to work with...David...Dave… the last name started with an O I think.”

“Davies Ortega?” You knew exactly who he meant.

“Yeah, yes! They want everything you have on him, they have a warrant but you weren’t here-”

“Yeah well, I am now.” You sighed as you pushed through your colleagues who were watching with confusion.

“If you wanted to see my files you could have asked nicely.” You said as you came through the door. 

“Dr. L/n, I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI, were you Davies Ortega’s psychiatrist?” A tall man with dark hair turned to you.

“Yes sir, I was.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You have a warrant?” A dark-haired woman handed you the paper.

“You got something to hide?” A fit man with dark skin questioned.

“The Ortega’s are a rich white-collar family and the father is the DA, I’m protecting my practice.” You quipped back. “Your warrant says you have the right to the Ortega files and the files you’re going through aren’t those so if you’d please stop invading my client’s privacy I’ll show you what you’re looking for.” Each of them dropped the files they were holding.

“Thank you,” You said and then made your way to your desk, opening the locked cabinet beneath it and pulling out several thick files.

“That much?” The dark-haired woman said. You chuckled softly and then pulled out yet another stack of files.

“That much.” You corrected. 

“Ma’am we’re going to have to go through all of this and ask you a series of questions, I think it would be best if we did this at the police station… for privacy.” Agent Hotchner motioned to the crowd around your office. 

“I think that’d be best.” You agreed.

The ride to the police station was horribly quiet and incredibly awkward. Luckily though it was very short. You walked through the front doors following Hotchner, you caught a glimpse of Davis’s photo pinned to a board next to the photos of several women dead. You couldn’t make out too much because someone called out your name from behind you, not Dr. L/n but Y/n. You quickly turned to see a tall thin, brown-haired man with his hands awkwardly in his pockets, Spencer.

“Oh my god,” You smiled as you rushed towards him, standing up on your toes, practically jumping and wrapping your arms around him. He wrapped his arms around your waist in return and tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“The two of you know each other.” An unfamiliar voice said from your left side. You and Spencer jumped apart like two teenagers caught together behind a closed door. 

“Uh, yeah,” Spencer spoke up. “We grew up together. We were uh… close.” 

“Close, huh?” The blonde-haired woman smirked.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer turned his attention back to you.

“Davies Ortega,” You said simply to gauge his reaction. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, that’s not good.

“You’re his doctor?”

“I was,” You nodded.

“Dr. L/n, we shouldn’t do this here, follow me.” You grinned at Spencer before following Hotchner to a small room with a table and mirror, you were sure it was a window from the other side. You were left alone to fiddle with your thumbs and try to work out what was happening. After about 15 minutes the door opened...and Reid came in.

“I’m surprised you’re allowed to talk to me.” You grinned, that probably didn’t look good because of the circumstances but you couldn’t help it.

“I spent the last ten minutes convincing them that you would tell any of us what we need, but you’d be more comfortable with me, wanna prove me right?” He cocked his head at you.

“Anything for my genius.” Although it had been five years it felt just like you’d been teenagers walking on the strip just yesterday. “You think Davies killed those girls, he’s your unsub.” Spence talked about this stuff all the time even when he was in college, you knew how this worked. 

“Yeah,” Spencer spoke softly and nodded. “That doesn’t surprise you?” 

“No,” You said hesitantly. “I know this is being recorded, will the parents see?” 

“No,” Spencer said, slightly confused. “Are you afraid of them?”

“I’m not afraid.” You said quickly and defensively and he raised his eyebrows at you. “ I told them that Davies needed to be institutionalized and they nearly got me fired. Rich people can do whatever they want no matter if their child is a total sexual sadist.” 

“Sexual sadist?” He repeated. “Do you really think he is or are you exaggerating?” 

“Oh come on Spence, you don’t need to do that.” You sighed. “I know he’s messed up, you know he’s messed up it doesn’t matter who says it doesn’t change that.” He chuckled slightly, he should have known he couldn’t pull anything without you knowing.

“Why did Davies come to see you?” Reid continued.

“He was adopted when he was six, removed from his birth mother’s custody for neglect. The Ortega’s adopted him not long after, he went from having nothing to anything he wanted, he began to act out and they couldn’t handle that. He killed the family cat too.” You explained. “Even they knew that was a warning sign.”

“Why’d he stop coming?”

“I suggested hospitalization, they didn’t like that so they found a new psychiatrist. No matter where they took him it was the same though. Eventually, they got him institutionalized just last year he turned eighteen and there was nothing they could do. With this kid, it was never a matter of if… it was when.”

“Alright, thank you, we’re gonna need to keep the files for now but you can go soon.” He sighed and stood up to leave.

“Wait, Spencer.” You stopped him. He turned to look at you and it nearly took the breath out of your lungs but you still continued. “You’re about to go to his house right?” He nodded.

“He used to write stories, they’re in my files, he wrote about killing but they all ended the same way. He said before they could take him he would kill as many officers he could before and then himself.”

Reid nodded slowly, understanding that was your way of telling him to be careful. You followed Reid out of the room and he told you to wait with the blonde-haired woman who would clear you to leave.

“My name’s J.J.” She offered you her hand. This wasn’t the introduction of an FBI agent but instead the introduction of a friend of a friend. “Wanna help me go through these files?”

You sat down with J.J. and helped her go through the files, every once and a while she’d ask you about Spencer.

“So were you ever...with… Spencer?” She asked with a hint of suggestion.

“No,” You chuckled. “I had a crush on him when we were teenagers but that was all.”

“Did he feel the same way?” She pushed a little further.

“Spencer is about as transparent as glass, I never got the feeling he did.” You tried to leave as much emotion out of your voice as possible. 

“If I’ve learned anything from working with Spencer it’s that he can lie if he has to.” She chuckled.

Not long after you saw Spencer, Hotchner, the agents whose names you learned were David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Derek Morgan. They were all rushing out, wearing blue FBI vests, and fully armed. Spencer walked over to you.

“Hotch and the Sheriff said you can go, what are the two of you up to?” He said as he looked at the messy table of papers.

“I’m just helping J.J. with the files.” 

“Well, we uh- gotta go.” He held out his last word, you knew he was just as worried he wouldn’t see you again as you were. “When we’re done… I’ll call you. I swear.” You just nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist before once again watching him leave.

“Doctor,” Hotchner called you. “You’re free to go,”

“Yes, sir I know…” You said apprehensively.

“But?” 

“I think I’d like to stay until you get back,” Maybe you wanted to know what would happen to Davies, maybe you wanted to make sure Reid was okay, either way, he didn’t ask, he just nodded and left.

You sat there with J.J. for an hour as the team checked out the house and confirmed Davies was inside. J.J. got a message on her radio that they were going in, you both sat quietly at the table holding your breath and waiting for more news. Ten minutes went by before you got the next message. 

Shots fired; Federal Officer down. 

J.J. clasped her hand over her mouth and put her other over yours reassuringly. 

Suspect has been injured and is in the ambulance but should make it. 

A small wave of relief washed over you but the words Officer down were still stuck in your head. After about half an hour people began filing into the station, Hotchner, Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan, and finally Reid.

You and J.J. let out a sigh of relief seeing the whole team alive and well. Reid smiled at you, clearly amused by the worry on your face. 

“You seem stressed.” He grinned.

“Oh shut up.” You smacked his chest before wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in it. “What about the officer?”

“SWAT got hit in the leg, he'll be fine.” 

“I was worried.” You finally admitted before pulling away. “So, when do you guys go home?” 

“Tomorrow morning, maybe tonight if Hotch is in a hurry.” He shrugged and you felt his demeanor change. “Y/n… I have to finish up here but afterward, would you want to… I don’t know, hang out?” His hands sat uncomfortably in his front pockets and his shoulders tense. 

“Yeah Spence, I’d like that.” You smiled up at him. 

“Cool,” He nodded with a proud and yet relieved smile on his face. “Meet me at The Strip...our spot, at 10 o’clock.”

“Of course Dr. Reid.”

“I’ll see you then Dr. L/n.”

The Strip was huge but you knew exactly where he wanted you to meet him, at the corner of the fountains facing the Ferris Wheel. By the time you got there at ten, you saw him leaning against the railing waiting for you.

“You got off early.” You said to alert him that you were there.

“Yeah,” He seemed relieved that you showed up. You stood next to him and leaned onto the railing as well. “I didn’t know you got your doctorate.” 

“Yeah, I got my masters and started working but did online courses for my doctorate while I was practicing.” Sometimes you got self-conscious talking about education with Spencer and he seemed to notice.

“That’s impressive.” He said genuinely.

“I never would have done it without you.” You shrugged off his compliment.

“Me?” He turned to face you, his attention now peaked.

“Yeah, I mean...yeah, you always used to talk about Dahmer and Gacy and how fucked up their childhoods were. It just wanted to stop it before it happened but clearly… that didn’t work.”

“Hey,” He placed his hand on your shoulder. Spencer shockingly hadn’t changed much in the six years you’d been apart. His hair was longer than it used to be and much messier and curlier, he dressed slightly different as well. As a teenager, Spencer rarely wore clothes that accommodated his tall but thin stature, and he never quite knew how to style his clothes. Now, his clothes fit well, his long sleeves were rolled up to reveal his forearms and he wore a black sweater vest and a dark blue tie. He looked mature and put together but at the same time, still kind of looked like his mom dressed him for the science fair. His socks still didn’t match.

“That’s not your fault Y/n,” He looked you in the eyes making sure you were really hearing him. “Like you said it was just a matter of when. I talk to these kinds of guys every day, they’re irrational.”

“Yeah… I know.” You sighed heavily. A silence hung in the air, neither of you wanting to talk about the events of the day but not knowing how to proceed.

“So you like Psychiatry?” He said with genuine interest.

“Yeah,” You said unconvincingly, causing him to raise his eyebrows like you. “Well, yes and no. My boss is a total pushover and my co-workers are dramatic and invasive. I like what I do but not necessarily where I do it.” 

“So what keeps you here?” He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned all of his weight on his right arm so that he could face you. 

“Honestly,” You sighed and looked around, trying to come up with the best answer. “Nothing.” I guess that was easier than expected. 

“What about your family?” 

“Everyone’s all spread out by now, retired in Florida, the woods in North Dakota, you name it.” 

“You hate it here, why have you stayed so long?” Spencer said, obviously confused now. He knew better than anyone that you should have gotten out of Vegas the second you turned 18. “Why did you even go to college here?” 

“Cause you were close.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly feeling how long it had been since you’d talked to him.

“You stayed because of me?” His voice softened and was nearly inaudible.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” You looked into the fountain, squinting at the lights shining in your eyes. “We have good memories here, I guess that’s why I stay.” 

When you finally looked back up at him he was already staring at you. You were tempted to dart your eyes away but you found it impossible to look away from him. And then faster than anything you’d ever experienced his hand was on the side of your face and lips were on yours. His hand was gentle on the soft skin of your face and it traveled slowly to the back of your neck desperately bringing you closer to him. Your hands rested on his chest, fingers digging into the coarse wool of his sweater in an attempt to keep him there. With one step towards you, he closed the gap between your bodies and pressed you against the railing. You arched your back, pushing your body against him to prevent you from bending back over the railing. Spencer’s other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you impossibly close to him. 

The kiss had started slow and unsure but once you reciprocated it became desperate and hungry for what both of you had been wanting since you were teenagers. Spencer’s tongue grazed against your bottom lip requesting entrance which you gladly gave him. Your tongues danced together, not a fight for dominance but a dance between two equals trying to explore every piece of their partner. Spencer’s teeth softly grazed against your bottom lip pulling it between his before he reluctantly pulled his face away from yours but still kept his body pressed against yours. Both of you stood there not daring to move away from each other as you gasped for breath. 

“I think I’m ready to leave.” You said between breaths. 

“And go where? Virginia?” Spencer was obviously kidding but the way you looked up at him to gauge his reaction showed that you were completely serious. “Oh, Y/n no, you can’t uproot your life for me.”

“Oh come on Spence!” You slipped out from under him getting space to gain some confidence in your argument. “I hate it here, it’s hot, the people are terrible, I’m ready to quit my job after today’s fiasco.” Spencer just shook his head and chuckled, you continued.

“Come on Spence I love the East Coast, the people, the seasons.”

“The seasons? That’s why you want to come?” His smile turned into a proud smirk as he placed his hands on either side of you, pressing you against the railing.

“And good company.” You smiled before pulling him down to meet your lips. 

“I missed you so much.” He said between kisses. You went to say something back but before you could Spencer’s phone went off in his pocket. He dropped his head and let out a loud sigh that made you giggle. 

“Yeah, Hotch.” He said formally but rolled his eyes and grinned at you. There were a few seconds of silence but you could hear a deep muffled voice through that phone. “Actually, I was planning on staying for a while, I’ll catch my own flight back.” The two men exchanged a few more formalities before Spencer casually put his phone back in his pocket.

“You’re staying?” You looked up at him with a timid smile before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned his body against yours.

“Well, I gotta help you pack.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #mgg #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine

[the-satellite]

Hello nobody but me gives a shit but I'm in a mood so here's my kinda ridiculously detailed headcanons for the Marble Hornets boys' families bc if the boys wont give em canon families I will

Alex

Undeniably a single child, one was all his parents needed no matter how much he begged for siblings. Had loads of cousins tho, first and second gen.

P good relationship with his parents! They supported his hobbies and passions well enough, they didn't divorce, honestly he's the luckiest one here in terms of family ngl.

Casually religious, a last supper painting here, a cross there. Service on Sunday and you could do whatever after that. Most of that free time was spent with an old recorder doing skits with whatever cousin visited that day.

His dad definitely wishes he was more sporty but like whatever makes you happy buddy. Mom was very excited when he moved out bc she wanted to run a b&b.

Doesn't know what happened and probably gave up after a year. He might've just moved. They still have a missing persons poster at the local gas station. It's the little hope ya know?

Brian

Oldest of three, had 2 younger sisters. Total bastard of an older brother but god he loved them. Nobody loved like Brian loved his sisters. Called em everyday in college.

Parents were emotionally neglectful bc I project. They provided a house and food and clothes but if Bri wanted praise for his lead role in the school play or the middle girl needed therapy kiddos were SOL.

Lived in a city and moved south just before the middle girl was born. If theres a trailer park in Alabama someone in there remembers the Thomas' without fail, usually bc a kid bullied one of the girls and got rocks in the window via Brian.

All the kids are a lil brain weird. Brian has empathy related issues and is extremely vengeful, the middle girl is obsessive and emotionally fragile, and the youngest is mute and detached from her own humanity.

Parents stopped trying to figure out where he went after like a month. He's an adult his choice. The middle became a journalist and specializes in old missing persons cases. The youngest ran away bc the entire environment was going to kill her.

Jay

Younger of two boys, had an older brother he was extremely close to as a child, but they kinda fell into passive contact when the older boy moved out. Kinda rekindled once Jay hit college

Parents split when he was p little, it was amicable and the boys mostly stuck with their mom and saw their dad every other weekend and visited on most holiday breaks.

Family's kinda halfway loaded via inheritance, they have the ability to live upper middle class but nobody wanted to move and eating out makes Jay anxious so they didn't change their lifestyle much. Zebra cakes for days in the cupboard tho

Absolute mama's boy, adored his mother. It wasn't that he didn't like his dad his dad was good he just vibes harder with his mom. Misses her alot in college.

After some time of radio silence they got a mystery call from a random number about his death, they got him a grave they mourned and learned to live again. Didn't get the body tho.

Tim

Only child and a complete accident. His mother supposedly a single woman in the middle of the bible belt you think this kid was planned? Absolutely not hes the ultimate unwanted mistake.

Had a single mother who was literally the exact same circumstance except everyone knew her father was a high ranking church member. Nobody knows who Tim's father was but mom says kiddo looks alot like him. Alabamians don't learn /j.

Honestly was barely raised by his mom, he was mostly taken care of by teachers at school and later nurses. She was so absent Tim can't even remember her face or voice, he'd be able to pick it out if asked but can't bring it up on his own.

His family doesn't have much history of the mental health issues he has. No documentation of dissociation, hallucinations, suicidal tendencies, none of it. Its theorized to be from the dad's side.

The two haven't spoken since Tim was in like 5th grade, she doesn't know shit and probably doesn't want to. She loses her mind with grief when she looks him up out of curiosity one day and finds the channel. Her son killed a man. Her son probably killed himself. How do you cope with that?

#marble hornets #marble hornets headcanons #alex kralie #brian thomas #jay merrick #tim wright #tw suicide mention #nova transmits #the youngest Thomas is actual kinda important in my cpverse

[ourimpavidheroine]

You always post your writing soundtracks. Mind sharing your top ten albums with us?

I actually laughed when I read this because I’m thinking of the Anon who complained that all of my music was OLD. I mean. I’m old! What did you expect?

Never mind me, I’m easily amused. Thank you for using the word album so I would not feel like Lady Danbury with my lethal cane.

Yes, sure I can do that! I don’t know that these are my forever and ever amen top ten, but they are the ones that are coming to mind right now. So.

Under a cut, it’s long. 

In no particular order.

Brutal Youth - Elvis Costello

My ex-husband was in love with Elvis Costello and who could blame him? The man is a genius lyricist. This is not one of his more commercially popular albums but I love every single track. (I also lined up at Ticketmaster in Oakland, CA when the man was touring in order to get tickets for my ex. I got there at midnight and spent the night, meeting a group of drag queens who were getting tickets to see Barbara Streisand. God, that was a fun night, we ate donuts one of them went on a donut run for and sang showtunes for hours. One of my favorite memories.) This verse, from Clown Strike, is one that has resonated with me since I first heard it.

Tell me what you want of me Or are you terrified of failure? You put on a superstitious face Behind all this paraphernalia We're not living in a masquerade Where you only have three wishes It isn't easy to see In a lifetime of mistaken kisses

Unrepentant Geraldines - Tori Amos

I remember the first time I heard a Tori Amos song. It was the summer directly after I’d graduated from college, I was driving my ex-husband’s car and Silent All These Years came on the radio and I was just fucking gobsmacked. I bought Little Earthquakes that day and haven’t looked back. I have all her albums. I am a big, big fan.

Unrepentant Geraldines, though. God. It came out the year before my wife died and it got me through her death. The song Weatherman is about a man losing his wife, and how he sees her in the nature surrounding him. 

And. 

No, sorry, I can’t write more about this, not right now. But I sing it to her sometimes. 

He is not a weatherman But his bride lies with the land And she will whisper to him I'll be dressing up in snow Cloaked in echo it's almost As if only Nature knows How to paint his wife to life With every season's tone "One more look from her eyes One more look can you paint her back to life"

Ray of Light - Madonna

This album got me through my divorce from my ex-husband. I’d go out every single day during my lunch hour, this on my walkman, and walk and walk and walk until I got myself in enough control to go back and finish my work day. It’s a great album and I still listen to it a lot. It empowers me. And then my daughter was born and Ray of Light has always been her song to me, even though that wasn’t the song on the album that Madonna herself wrote for her daughter.

Faster than the speeding light she's flying Trying to remember where it all began She's got herself a little piece of heaven Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one And I feel like I just got home And I feel And I feel like I just got home And I feel

Seven and the Ragged Tiger - Duran Duran

This one was a difficult choice. For one thing, I really love their album Big Thing, which almost nobody’s heard about but one I love deeply. This one though...I think it’s the memories, including going to see them at the Oakland Coliseum with my cousin during their tour for this album and finding out they were partially filming the video for The Reflex that night. I like to think of us as being one of those girls in the audience. (Although I wasn’t screaming. I am a Capricorn. Have some dignity.) Duran Duran were responsible for my first fanfic and I’ve had a love for them since my Dad bought me their first album for my 13th birthday. I am nothing if not loyal. I have all of their early albums, all of their 12″ singles, too, including Secret Oktober, which I have always loved with a passion.

Also, Roger Taylor can still get it.

Freefall on a windy morning shore nothing but a fading track of footsteps Could prove that you never been there Spoken on a cotton cloud like the sound of gunshot taken by the wind And lost in distant thunder racing on a shining plain And tomorrow you'll be content to watch as the lightning plays along the wires and you'll wonder

Touch - Eurythmics

Another band I still love and listen to on the regular. Annie Lennox could sing me the telephone book and I’d be thrilled. Seeing her at age 14 in the Sweet Dreams video for the first time in my Grandmother’s living room quite literally woke something in me that led to moving across the world for a woman years later. (GOD.) I have all of their albums and choosing a favorite is difficult but this one won by a narrow margin, if only for the song Regrets, which is one of the songs that describes me until I became a mother, really. Like I RESONATED with that song. Still does in certain ways, if I am being truthful to myself.

I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I'm an electric wire And I'm stuck inside your head

Combat Rock - The Clash

Ah, teenage Impavid first understanding that music can also be political. Listen, I didn’t know much about what was going on outside of my own miniscule sphere - I was young and the internet didn’t exist yet. We got what news we got from our local paper and TV stations and they weren’t really reporting on what was happening in the world, not in 1982, let me fucking assure you. I got this album because my Dad was a part time DJ at a radio station that played mostly country music and the general manager of the station would just toss the rest of the non-country albums they’d get as promotions. My Dad would bring them home to me to listen to. You can imagine thirteen year old me listening to this album that opened with “This is a public service announcement - with guitars!” going WHAT THE FUCK? Let me just say there were a lot of trips to the library to read various newspapers after that.

Not to mention Rock the Casbah. What was a muezzin? I had no idea. I spent half a year reading books about Islam, about the Middle East and Northern Africa, which led to a curiosity about other religions beyond the Roman Catholicism in which I’d been raised, about other cultures as well. This album and The Color Purple by Alice Walker were the two things in my teen years that woke me the fuck up.

Now the king told the boogie men You have to let that raga drop The oil down the desert way Has been shakin' to the top The sheik he drove his Cadillac He went a' cruisin' down the ville The muezzin was a' standing On the radiator grille

Synchronicity - The Police

This fucking album. This fucking album. This album reached deep down into me and pulled out my soul and kicked it around for awhile. Every single song on this album hit me like a brick wall. Still does. Most likely always will.

Listen, you either like King of Pain or you live it. There’s no in between.

There's a little black spot on the sun today It's the same old thing as yesterday There's a black hat caught in a high tree top There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop I have stood here before inside the pouring rain With the world turning circles running 'round my brain. I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign, But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...

Sign O’ The Times - Prince 

The soundtrack to my University days. Jesus, it starts out with “In France a skinny man died of a big disease with a little name,” and it just keeps going. Pain, sex, wonder, glory, politics, love. It’s all there. I wore the vinyl out on this one. Amazing, amazing album. In fact, I still play it so often my kids practically know it by heart, and they don’t even like Prince!

To this day I think If I Was Your Girlfriend is the sexiest song ever written.

I will tell you this much: Sayuri’s main writing soundtrack song is Starfish and Coffee off the album, the same song I used to sing my kids as a lullaby. This should tell you a lot about her.

Cynthia wore the prettiest dress With different color socks Sometimes I wondered if the mates where in her lunchbox Me and Lucy opened it when Cynthia wasn't around Lucy cried, I almost died, U know what we found? Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam Butterscotch clouds, a tangerine And a side order of ham If U set your mind free, honey Maybe you'd understand Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam

Nina Simone Sings The Blues - Nina Simone

This was one of my Daddy’s albums. He loved it and so did I. As a child I just loved the sound of her voice - something in it both soothed me and pulled at me, made me want to run and just keep running. She still makes me feel like that. If you don’t know Nina Simone I urge you to change that, right now. There’s nobody at all like her. She’s irreplaceable. All of her material is good, not just her blues songs. Not to mention, she was an absolute brilliant genius at the piano, never mind the strength she had as a Black woman in a time when doors were shut in her face on a daily basis. Seriously. Read about her.

When I became a woman, of course, her songs took on a much deeper meaning for me, one that I could relate to. Isn’t that the hallmark of a good album, though? One that stays with you and changes with you? I think so.

If you’ve never heard her cover of I Put A Spell On You then do yourself a favor and go right now and listen. You’re welcome.

Oh and Buck from this album? Nuo to Wing, right there.

Also one of the sexiest songs ever written, this one. Especially how she sings it. The Hot Frenchman (have I ever told you about The Hot Frenchman? no? OH BOY THERE’S A STORY) told me he thought it was about drugs and I was like, honey, this tells me a whole lot about you, more than you probably wanted it to.

I want a little sugar In my bowl I want a little sweetness Down in my soul I could stand some lovin' Oh so bad I feel so funny and I feel so sad I want a little steam On my clothes Maybe I can fix things up So they'll go Whatsa matter Daddy Come on, save my soul I need some sugar in my bowl I ain't foolin' I want some sugar in my bowl

I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got - Sinéad O’Connor

This is a beautiful album, full of pain and joy, her hallmark. She sings every single word with everything in her; she’s far too intense for many, many people (and while she’s been open with her mental health struggles I’ve often wondered if she isn’t somewhere on the spectrum as well) but never for me. Her raw honesty has always appealed to me. She’s political, she’s a lover, a mother, a survivor of horrific abuse, someone who keeps reinventing herself as a way to find her way through pain. I always feel, when I am listening to her music, that I am bearing witness. I’m not afraid of pain; I’ve survived it as well. This album, one of her oldest, is still my favorite.

The line “You used to hold my hand when the plane took off” is the most evocative lyric I have ever heard with regards to the ending of love. It’s a punch to the heart - she felt it and she shared it with us, her fragile heart in her palms. Oh, Sinéad.

This is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody's office I'll talk but you won't listen to me I know what your answer will be I know you don't love me anymore You used to hold my hand when the plane took off Two years ago there just seemed so much more And I don't know what happened to our love

#personal #favorite albums #long post #Anonymous

[when-they-write-stuff]

I didn’t get all the way through the list, but I already couldn’t choose, so 55. “Sorry doesn’t fix everything.” or 75. “What are you talking about? You’re married!” or 80. “But you promised..”

Written for: “Sorry doesn’t fix everything.”

- -

“Tell me a story about how the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe.”

When Derek first left Beacon Hills, that’s what Ms. Morrell told Stiles to think about. He sat across from her just like he had nearly two years ago and picked at the hem of his shirt instead of his lacrosse stick. He hadn’t played lacrosse in a long time; not since the Nogitsune. Not since the return of Kate 2.0.

When Derek first left Beacon Hills, Stiles was told to look on the positive side of things. He was told that by everyone else, at least. Certain other people remained elusive. Certain other people who made Stiles so mad, he stopped going to counseling for an entire three months until his nightmares started waking him up in screaming fits and night-sweats again.

When Derek first left Beacon Hills, Stiles was told to think about the sun and the moon. And he was so fed up with everything sometimes.

He was so fed up with everything.

Like what they faced after Derek left. So many things. Stiles learned what it was like to be considered untrustworthy. He learned what it was like to be considered a real murder. To have blood on his actual hands.

He did this… thing when no one else was around. He didn’t tell Morrell about it and he didn’t tell his father. He most certainly didn’t tell Scott, but they hadn’t been talking that much lately anyway.

And if Stiles’s dad was to snoop around his bedroom one day, he might find a neat stack of letters. Ones that were never sent out, but always slipped in clean envelopes. Ones that were all addressed to the same initials, but there was never an address. Stiles didn’t think he’d send them even if he got an address; but it was a lot like the instance with Derek Hale’s number currently in his phone. He’d stared at it for hours before, debating making a call. A text. Something.

He never did though. Stiles thought he’d have a lot less control with the texts. So he wrote letters instead.

When Derek Hale first left Beacon Hills, the words; “Tell me a story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe” had circled through Stiles’s mind so often, he thought he was going crazy.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

When Stiles had gone into high school, he’d never expected to come out of it surprised he’d survived. They all made jokes years and years ago, yeah. But Stiles still couldn’t believe sometimes that he’d survived.

When he graduated as a senior, he’d stopped going to the counseling sessions. His dad had tried to bring up actual therapy but Stiles was at the point where he realized how Derek had felt when he first returned to Beacon Hills years ago. Once upon a time, when Stiles had been an idiot sixteen-year-old kid and Derek was nothing but tired and sad. 

For the first time, Stiles kind of wished he could go back in time and apologize.

Because hell, Stiles was tired. He was sad. He was tired like when Derek had buried himself in his childhood house and attempted to ignore the world. He was sad in that sometimes, he felt like he’d lived and died a dozen lives, and maybe he was just going through the motions these days.

He might have looked for Derek in the crowd the day they’d graduated. Because if Derek Hale was ever going to return to Beacon Hills, it would be then. When most of the danger had passed, when most of them had survived.

Most of them. Not all.

Stiles attempted to organize a vigil for those who hadn’t made it to graduation. A little ceremony. Something, anything, to remember that they all weren’t so lucky.

No one except for Lydia, Melissa, and Stiles’s dad had shown up.

They’d lit candles, murmured a few quiet words, looked over the graves, and Stiles wondered how much it had hurt Derek to lose so many of his pack. Peter had called it like losing a limb. Stiles sometimes wondered if the pain he’d felt when Derek had left was similar to that.

He hadn’t just felt like he’d lost a limb though. He’d felt like he’d lost so much more.

Stiles liked to believe Derek would have come to the vigil if he would have known. Maybe he would’ve taken a candle and stood by Stiles’s side as they overlooked Boyd and Erica’s graves. Surrounded by wolfsbane, because Stiles didn’t know if that was an actual thing, but he remembered seeing it around Laura Hale’s grave so many years ago.

He’d nearly gotten caught when he snuck out one night months ago to plant it. But there was over a handful of purple flowers growing now. Dancing across each grave. Crawling up the stones. Not in the perfect circle like it had been for Laura but… maybe it was enough.

Though, Stiles didn’t know how that could be enough if he hadn’t been.

He’d told himself he was going to leave Beacon Hills after high school. For good, maybe. Or at least for a few years. And Stiles had managed to stay gone for a solid semester, but then his dad had been shot in the line of duty.

Nothing fatal; a shoulder wound that put him in the hospital for six days and took him out of duty for another three months after that. But Stiles had driven straight back to Beacon Hills and hadn’t looked over his shoulder since.

Two years had passed and Stiles sometimes still wrote the letters.

He kind of thought it was stupid.

-

Hey, Sourwolf, remember that one time you left Beacon Hills without telling anyone? Yeah, well, I do too. And I’m so fucking pissed at you for it, I would literally kill to say that to your face. Which, funny story, wouldn’t be my first murder. Remember that time you said I’d be alright? That everything would be alright?

Yeah, well, that’s a bunch of bull.

  Stupid question, but would you pick the sun or the moon? That doesn’t make sense right now and I know, I’d be getting the ‘Seriously Stiles?” growly brows right now. But I’d really like to know. For… scientific reasons. Shut up, I’m probably not going to send this anyway.

  By the way, of the sun and the moon, which one of us is dying here?

  You think I would have had enough riddles to last me a lifetime at this point, but Morrell doesn’t seem to think so. Both her and Deaton get under my skin sometimes, you know? Like, is a straight answer really so damn hard?

It sure as hell seems like it.

  I’m supposed to be graduating and living my life pretty soon. I still can’t make a proper boiled egg and sometimes, I forget not everyone wants to hurt my friends or family. Funny, right? I’m fucking hilarious.

  I swear to god, I love you.

-

Stiles took this one class that talked about poetry and all the questions of the universe. He wasn’t sure why he took it exactly, but there was one thing that caught his attention from the beginning. One story about the moon and the sun; and the constant chase, the constant sacrifice that they made for each other. Over and over again.

He hated that class for all he was worth. He didn't think that was much anymore.

Stiles went to college for another year with no official degree in mind, but maybe he could be a history major or something? But then he got the call that his dad was planning to retire soon and Stiles found himself taking a few steps back. Turning away from the morning classes, the late-night parties, and all of those normal things, and applying to the police academy instead.

For some reason, he always thought Derek would’ve made a good deputy.

Stiles still looked for him sometimes.

He looked for grey-green.

-

I think I could track you down if I wanted to. You know, talk some sense into your little werewolf-y brain. I’d probably say something about ‘Having a plan B’. Because there has to be something else. We were always supposed to have a plan B, weren’t we? Maybe yours was leaving. Maybe it was not looking back.

I just wish I could’ve left too.

-

When Derek Hale first returned back to Beacon Hills, Stiles had friends at the local coffee shop, friends at the Sheriff’s station, and even a few friends from his old Uni days. He had them scattered here and there. He hadn’t written a letter in ages.

When Derek Hale first returned to Beacon Hills, Stiles didn’t actually know it until he ran into the man while grocery shopping. Derek had gone stock-still down the aisle, a basket held loosely in his hand, and Stiles’s milk had gone splattering to the floor.

When Derek Hale first returned to Beacon Hills, Stiles was told it was ‘a second chance’. He thought that sounded painfully familiar. He also thought, for a moment, he was going crazy again.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Sometimes, he thought he could leave it all behind. Scott had long since followed the rest of his pack to New York City and Stiles had lost touch long ago. There was still the occasional supernatural baddie in Beacon Hills; but Stiles had a little bit more than a baseball bat now.

There was this… misfit group. Those that had been left behind. Stiles; when he’d become a Deputy. Lydia; when she returned back to start her own online company from the ground up. The few who had never left. Or never stayed gone.

Then there was Derek.

Stiles hadn’t planned on speaking to him ever again, thank you very much. He’d made a beeline from the grocery store and either Derek hadn’t followed, or he’d been too preoccupied with the newly spilled milk to give chase.

Stiles saw him later at the coffee shop. He turned right back around and suffered the station’s coffee for the rest of the week.

He saw him running in the early mornings when he left for work.

He saw the man in his sleep.

It had been so long since Stiles had woken up with the memory of blazing red eyes, or sharp electric blue underneath the moonlight, or the simple green-grey that gave him the saddest look before turning away. 

It had been so long.

Stiles made a bonfire in the preserve one night with a pile of his own kindling; a little stack of papers. But then he never went through with it.

One morning, there was a man in his apartment building.

Stiles had never thought his ‘fight or flight’ instincts would kick in when he was facing Derek Hale. But then the man was standing in front of him in nothing but sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He held a bag of bagels in one hand and his mail in the other and it took Stiles one second too long to realize the bastard was living in his building.

It took Stiles one minute too long to realize he was crying.

See, Stiles had imagined their future meeting over and over again in his mind. When Derek had first left and Stiles was still raw, he imagined he might scream a little bit. Maybe curse the man out.

Or maybe just beg him to stay.

Then as the months had stretched on, Stiles thought maybe he’d just give him a hug. That maybe, maybe if he could prove to Derek Hale that there was something left for him in Beacon Hills, he would consider staying around for a little longer.

Jump to three years later and Stiles was just standing here like an idiot, silent tears spilling down his cheeks. And it took him far too long to realize he was crying.

Derek was only a few feet away by the time Stiles snapped back to reality.

Some part of his mind was tempted to punch the man. Some part was tempted to turn and storm off. Stiles thought he could only be more pathetic if he dropped to his knees along with the tears.

Derek looked utterly torn. Stiles hated how little he hated him for a moment.

“Stiles—”

“Do you remember the day you left?”

Derek’s mouth snapped closed and Stiles’s words were trembling. The man made an abortive move forward as if he was going to reach out, but then he promptly drew back. Stiles’s heart twisted in his chest.

“Huh, Derek? Do you remember the day you left?”

“It was… a long time ago.”

“Yeah, asshole, it was. But I just want to know one thing,” Stiles said, and he hated himself for how pitiful he sounded. Because right now, he was pretty sure he hated himself more than he hated Derek Hale. If he even ever had. “Did you ever look back?”

Derek’s jaw ticked and he didn’t say a word. Stiles felt like his stomach had dropped.

“Did you ever think about returning?”

“I’m sorry, Stiles.”

And that wasn’t the answer Stiles had been looking for, but maybe it was the one he should have expected. Silently, he nodded, turning back away. He wasn’t trembling so hard anymore but he still felt like his world was falling apart at the seams.

“Wait, Stiles.”

Despite himself, he froze. Despite everything, despite knowing better. Derek looked shattered when Stiles glanced back and for the first time, he wondered if the man had possibly missed Stiles and much as he’d missed him.

But then Derek just ducked his head again and Stiles knew he was an idiot. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.”

Though turning away, eyes burning, Stiles sure as hell wished it did.

-

I swear to god, I hate you.

-

Stiles never asked to fall in love, alright? He never asked to look into grey-green eyes and find himself rendered useless. If someone had told his teenage self that one day, he’d been spending his life thinking about a certain leather-jacketed asshole, Stiles would have laughed them off.

If his life was a movie, Stiles thought Derek would have shown up on Stiles’s doorstep. Maybe with flowers, maybe with just an apology.

Stiles would have been careful, cautious. But he would have let Derek in. There would have been soft conversations, possible tears, maybe even a love confession. And then Stiles would have been alright again.

Derek Hale never showed up on his doorstep. Stiles still dreamed of grey-green eyes.

There was this part of him that sometimes still came to the shocking realization that Derek was back in town. When one of the deputies introduced Stiles to his new ‘good friend’ and Stiles had nearly had a panic attack at the sight of Derek’s face. When he went to the farmer’s market for the first time since he was a child and turned the corner to run face-first into a soft henley and firm chest.

Sometimes, Stiles had to stop and take a breath. 

And then like the snap of two fingers, suddenly Stiles nearly stopped breathing altogether.

He’d survived his teenage years. He’d survived psychotic werewolves and bloodthirsty alpha packs. He’d survived demon possession and being forgotten by all those he loved. Stiles had survived one thing after another. All of those dozen lives that he’d lived.

He took a bullet to the chest on a Tuesday morning. And Stiles was pretty sure he was finally going to die.

But when he came-to, it was in a hospital room.

Stiles felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his brain. There was the faint sound of a beeping machine and someone was hunched over where he laid. Stiles managed to blink once, twice, a low groan leaving his lips, and then the person was jerking like they’d been shot.

Derek Hale made an abortive move to stand, looking like he’d been caught red-handed doing something illegal. Stiles focused in on his face slowly, confused for a second, and then he was pretty sure his heart stopped.

Slowly, Derek sank back into the chair at his side. “Stiles?”

“You’re not really here.”

The man’s face did something strange and Stiles was almost tempted to reach out and touch it. But he still felt like he was floating outside of his body, ears ringing, and this wasn’t real. Either he really was dead or they’d put him on enough drugs to make him see what Stiles usually tried to pretend was a bad dream.

Derek looked terrified. Which was funny, because usually their roles were reversed.

“Stiles, how are you feeling?”

“You’re not really here,” Stiles said again. God, why did his brain hate him? The man’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and Stiles thought that up close, his face looked a little less hardened than it used to. His eyes were a little less sad.

“Stiles, you’re in the hospital. You were shot.”

“I know that,” Stiles said, huffing despite himself. “But you’re not here.”

“I am.”

“No,” he said softly. “No, because this is all a dream. Or a hallucination. Or a nightmare. You’re not here because that’s not allowed. We’re not allowed. Someone told me and I’ve spent three years thinking so.”

Derek flinched. Stiles managed a weak chuckle.

“We’re not allowed, Sourwolf.”

And then Derek Hale took his hand. 

Stiles’s brain logged offline for a moment. His heart skipped a beat. Because Derek Hale— dream Derek Hale, hallucination Derek Hale, whatever— had his hand. And Stiles could feel the warmth of his skin. The steady beat of his heart. The callouses that lined his palm.

Derek took his hand, squeezing gently, and for a moment, Stiles just stared.

Then he yanked back like he’d been burned.

“No, Derek. No, Derek, no Derek, no! You’re not here! You can’t be here! Get out. Get your furry ass out right now or I swear to god, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?”

The words were asked gently. Derek raised a brow, glancing down at Stiles’s chest, and his features tightened a little as he looked back up.

“You’ll what, Stiles? Nearly die again?”

“Fuck you.”

“I…” the man's voice wavered. “I’m sorry, Stiles. But I’m not going anywhere.”

And wouldn’t Stiles have loved to have heard that years ago? Derek would have come back or maybe he would have never left. He wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t supposed to have gone anywhere from the start.

“Why?” Stiles asked. “Why now?”

Derek dropped his gaze, starting to pull his hand back. But Stiles latched on as if it was a lifeline. Grey-green eyes snapped back upward and Derek nodded, gripping his hand tight again. “I… I heard what happened.”

“Yeah, so I nearly died. I’ve nearly died plenty of times before, you know. You never showed up then.”

Stiles was pretty sure he was hitting every single point of pain. Because Derek looked more and more stricken with every word and if Stiles was a better person, he would stop. But suddenly, it was all spilling out of him. Because yeah, he could hate the man silently all he wanted, but that had never done him any good.

“Why did you leave, Derek? Goddammit, why did you leave?”

“I had to.”

“You had to leave Beacon Hills?”

“Stiles—”

“Or what, Derek? You had to leave the pack? You had to leave me? You had to scurry off into the night and never so much as call? I wanted so bad to hate you, dammit! How could you let me try and hate you?”

“Because that’s what you were supposed to do!”

Stiles froze. At some point, Derek had drawn away. He just looked at Stiles now, eyes blurry and jaw clenched. For a moment, Stiles was pretty sure he was going to get up and leave. But then the man just ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“That’s what you were supposed to do, Stiles.”

“Why did you leave me, Derek?”

“Why would you ever want me to stay?”

There was this one letter Stiles had written asking himself the same thing. Why did he want Derek back? Why did he even care whether or not the man decided to suddenly up and leave?

Why Derek Hale? Why would he ever care about Derek Hale?

“Because when you left,” Stiles said shakily. “It felt like losing a limb.”

Derek made a soft noise at the back of his throat, shaking hands clasped together in his lap. His eyes were fixed on the floor and Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen the ex big bad Alpha of Beacon Hills so fragile. But he was pretty sure right now, if he said the wrong thing, Derek would shatter.

“Because you were gone,” Stiles said. “Before you were even mine.”

Some part of him thought Ms. Morrell was wrong. There was no moon or sun. There was no chase, there was no sacrifice. Unless it was on both sides. Because dammit, Derek looked like Stiles had just said everything he’d experienced. The man breathed out shakily and nodded once more glancing up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.”

“I know.”

“Are you staying?”

“... Yes.”

“For good?”

For a moment, Derek stared. Then he nodded. Stiles smiled a little and for the first time in a while, felt like he really meant it. He shifted, pulling himself into a sitting position and wincing a little at the stretch of his injury. Derek straightened and Stiles just waved a hand through the air, managing a small laugh.

Slowly, the man relaxed back. 

“Then me too,” Stiles said softly. “I'm sorry for trying so hard to hate you.”

Derek huffed, eyes shining. And it had been so long since Stiles had hoped he’d actually ever get to see that. He reached out and Derek took his hand, squeezing tightly. And it was all so real. The pulse point beneath his fingertips. The long fingers intertwined with his own.

It was all so real.

“I’m not leaving again, Stiles.”

And beneath Stiles’s fingertips, the heartbeat of the man stayed steady.

-

There’s this thing about the sun and the moon, Sourwolf. One can’t survive without the other. And it’s always been about survival between us, right? Sometimes, I’d love for that to all be a lie. I really would. But I need you to survive, remember? I need you to survive, which is why I haven’t let you go.

Which is why I might never let you go.

- -

I should really know better than to write at night bc nothing but angst ever ensues. Thank you so much for the prompt, Matt! I had fun with it <3

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #prompts #all the angst and hurt/comfort #ice-mage #ficlet

[queencarolinemikaelson]

Ice Skating

Klaroline Bingo as hosted by @klaroline-events Prompt // Winter

/

Caroline Forbes was single, and proud.

Being single allowed her to go wherever, whenever, and with whomever she wanted.

She didn’t have to worry about checking in with anyone. She could stay out all weekend if she wanted, and she could stay in whenever she wanted too. She could focus on her career, and herself, and didn’t have to worry about treading on any masculine toes.

There had been a time where she flitted from boyfriend to boyfriend, thinking it was what she needed to be happy. But the older she got, the more she realised she was just happy being with herself, and if the right person came along, she would know.

So yeah, Caroline Forbes was single, and loved it.

But every now and then, as rare as it was, there were days she hated it.

On that particular day, for instance.

It was the day of the whenever-it-works-out friend reunion. A day when Caroline, her entire friend group and their partners got together to have a big, boozy lunch - free from kiddies and responsibilities.

Her friends were dotted around the country by now, so their reunions were rare. This one Caroline had actually organised, seeing as she was the only Chicago local in the group. They had decided on Chicago some months earlier, because some of her friends were coming to Chicago to visit their brother anyway, and it wasn’t much of a stretch for the remaining couples to descend upon the city as well.

Caroline was rightly looking forward to it, it wasn’t often her friends-who-are-parents were able to let loose.

So imagine her displeasure when, she got a harried phone call from one of her friends the morning before the reunion was due to take place.

Because, for some reason, ‘single’ seemed to be friends-who-are-parents language for ‘convenient babysitter’ when they needed time out from their rowdy young ones.

“Please, Caroline,” Elena begged. “The service we hired to mind all the kids cancelled. None of us have been able to go out for months!”

The blaring implication was there; Caroline could hear it in her friend’s plea.

‘Please, Caroline. You can be stuck with children for one day. Going out doesn’t mean as much to you.’

Caroline had been an odd mix of hurt, and – dare she say it – relieved that she was being shouldered out of lunch, because her friends-who-are-parents needed a babysitter.

She was hurt for obvious reasons. Didn’t matter that she wanted to hang with them.  Didn’t matter that she organised the reunion. Didn’t matter that it was her rallying that got them all together. She was the most expendable. Because she was single, she wasn’t a mother; she didn’t need it as much.

But she was relieved because, no matter how much happy she was living her single life, her coupled-off friends usually couldn’t manage to keep their opinions of her singlehood to themselves.

She bitterly rolled her eyes, thinking about how they would like it if she passed comment on their lifestyles with kids, made judgements about their marriages.

“Fine, but you better remember this next time you ask me why I’m still single,” Caroline agreed, haughtily. “And I expect a pretty awesome Christmas present.”

On the morning of the reunion, her small, not-particularly-kid-proof apartment was over run by her five excitable nieces and nephews, and their eight excited-looking parents.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Bonnie gushed, happily, as she stepped through her front door, beginning the slew of compliments for Caroline’s selflessness.

“Care, this is so amazing,” Jeremy said, appreciatively.

“Caroline, you’re a lifesaver,” Elena grinned, gratefully.

“Yeah, barbie, love your work,” Damon quipped, sardonically.

“Care, you truly are the best friend,” Rebekah smiled, thankfully.

“Yeah, Caroline, I know you’ve been looking forward to today as well,” Stefan thanked, profusely.

“We are very much in your debt,” Elijah nodded, graciously.

“I don’t know what all you are on about, Caroline is the reason these things are fun, and you’re making her babysit your kids!” Katherine griped, but threw her friend a relieved smile.

“Not a problem, guys,” Caroline said, with all the grace she could muster. “Now, how are my favourite rugrats!”

The five children chorused their enthusiasm in exuberant cacophony, making all nine adults smile widely at the cuteness.

Before too long, however, eight of the nine adults took their leave, leaving Caroline to wrangle the little ones on her own.

Now, Caroline may not have been a mother, but she knew her way around children.

She babysat her way through high school, then nannied her way through university. Plus, the first baby had been born into the group less than a year after college ended. Plus, Caroline had known all these children since they were born, and just as she was the cool friend in the group, she was the cool aunty.

That experience, coupled with her unrivalled ability to plan the perfect day for any group, Caroline knew the day with the kids would go off without a hitch.

She had every activity planned out, and every item she’d need for each activity in colour coded boxes. She’d only had a day’s lead time, or else she’d have sent each parent a list of things they should pack, to ensure best-day-ever status from the children.

Though, minding all five at once was getting more challenging as the two eldest, Jeremy and Bonnie’s, Rowan, and Elena and Damon’s, Jessamy, were now ten, so endless craft activities didn’t hold the magic it once did.

But never fear, Caroline set up stations for the children to run between, which included every winter activity she could think of; paper snowflake cutting, drawing, Twister, and, the group favourite, gingerbread house decorating.

Each child chipped in making lasagne for lunch, and laughed their way through a team challenge of baking chocolate chip cookies.

They all watched a movie after lunch, munching on their cookies and gingerbread. But by the time 4pm rolled around the kids began to get fidgety, and the lack of a back yard on her apartment suddenly became and issue.

Never fear, however, because Caroline had a contingency for this, as she had for every eventuality.

“All right, kids,” she called, clapping her hands together to get their attention. “Jackets, shoes and socks on, please, we’re going on a special trip. But you have to promise to be extra good okay?”

While the kids eagerly donned their outwear, Caroline quickly shoved snacks, and two thermos’ of hot chocolate into a big bag, before donning her jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves. 

“Let’s go ice skating!”

xxx

“Okay everyone!” Caroline called, as all five kids stood with their feet all clad in skating gear. “Are we excited?”

A squealed response later, Caroline gave them her brightest smile and the green light to take off.

She knew she was taking a bit of a risk with this trip, but she also knew Bonnie and Jeremy took their kids skating often so she wasn’t worried when the two youngest Gilberts, Rowan and Penny, took off immediately. Elena and Damon’s daughter, Jessamy, was a little less confident, but it didn’t take long before she was off after her cousins in a flurry of snow. Stefan and Rebekah’s, Jamie, was also already quite the competent skater, which left Meg, the youngest of the cousins, to tentatively cling to Caroline’s hands as her wobbly skating legs took to the new activity.

But before much longer, even Meg was chasing after her older cousins, just leaving Caroline to grip the railing at the edge of the rink.

“Come on Aunty Care!” Jessamy shouted, excitedly. “You have to skate too! We need six if we want to play this game!”

Caroline felt a wave of trepidation cross over her, she was content staying stationary, thank you very much. She may have been an incredible cheerleader in her day, but that skill did not translate to skating ability. That was a lesson she’d learnt the hard way on her first college date, where she had ended up with concussion and a broken arm as a result.

“Umm, I’m not very good at skating, guys. Can I just watch?”

“No!” came the rousing protestation.

And Caroline, of course, obliged, unable to bear their sad, puppy dog faces for longer than a few moments.

“Fine,” she groaned, cursing herself internally for taking them skating when she knew full well she couldn’t skate.

Caroline shakily put her legs onto the ice, and immediately began to wobble. Rowan and Jamie took her hands encouragingly, and pulled her further onto the ice.

And right as Rowan let go of her hand, Caroline felt a figure zoom past her, too big and too fast to be one of her group, and she cursed the blasted skating trip again, as all hell broke loose.

Caroline’s legs tangled up with Jamie’s and they crashed to the ground. Penny fell onto her knees trying to stop herself crashing into them, leaving Jessamy to crash into her. From there, Meg started to cry seeing all her family in a confusing muddle on the ice, and the Gilbert siblings took it upon themselves to start yelling about whose fault it was.  

Caroline cursed the damn trip a third time, as she contemplated the complete impossibility of scrambling to her feet – because, did she mention, she was terrible at skating – while in the middle of a clusterfork of wailing, potentially injured children.

Then an unfamiliar voice joined the ruckus.

“Do you need a little help, love?”

Caroline froze.

The kids froze.

“Excuse me?” Caroline asked, as she stared at the man who was intruding on quite an embarrassing moment.

He was god-tier-handsome, and Caroline nearly rolled her eyes that this would be the way she met someone who looked like him.

“I asked if you needed a little help, love?” the man repeated. “After all, it’s not everyday a beauty, such as yourself, falls – quite literally – at my feet?”

The flustered Caroline balked at the absolute gall of this man. Sure, he was hot, but ‘a beauty falls at my feet’.

J

E

R

K

That was for sure.

“Now you listen here, buddy –”

She was about to give him a true fairly uncensored piece of her mind, but was cut off when Jamie suddenly cut over top of her.

“Uncle Klaus?

The man’s somewhat smug-and-charming smirk was replaced with a look of confusion.

“Jamie Mikaelson, why are out here all by yourself?”

“But he’s not by himself, Uncle Klaus!” the boy’s cousin cried. “I’m here too!”

“And me!”

“Me too!”

Klaus was suddenly quite squeamish to note every single one of his nieces and nephews were in the pile of small children he had vaguely noted when he stopped to chivalrously aid the blonde beauty who had toppled on the ice.

And he had to admit it was not ideal.

Sure, he loved his family, and fully intended showing up as the cool uncle when they were older – but he was not good with kids at all, and was at a loss with how to proceed.

“Wait, you’re Klaus Mikaelson?” the blonde asked, as she began struggling to her feet.

“That would be me,” he replied, weakly. 

“But why the… why are you… oh my gosh!”

In her attempts to clamber up and talk at the same time, Caroline planted her ass firmly on the ice again with an unceremonious ‘ooof’ – much to the amusement of the little ones surrounding them.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” Caroline grumbled. “Come on, we should try and get up. Why don’t we take a break? I packed some hot chocolate for us to drink.

The kids agreed without too much fuss, the older ones helping the younger ones to their feet and skating to the edge.

“Do you need some help, sweetheart,” Klaus asked, as Caroline still struggled.

“I’m good,” Caroline said stubbornly, proceeding to struggle for another minute.

“Do you need some help?” Klaus asked again, this time with a cool, quirked eyebrow.

She just threw him a disgruntled look, but stuck out her arms for him to take nonetheless.

When she found her balance, she kept her hand squeezed tight to Klaus’ forearm, much to his enjoyment.

In the short skate from the centre of the rink, where the incident occurred, to the edge, Klaus got his kicks by unbalancing Caroline, to provoke the small whinge from her throat, and the tightening on her grip on his arm.

When they made it to blessedly dry land again, Caroline jumped back into babysitter-mode, passing each child a steaming drink and telling them not to stray too far away, before turning her attention back to Klaus.

“Why the hell did you barrel me over on the ice?”

“I did no such thing, love!” he replied indignantly. “You were the one to strayed into my path.”

“That is so not how it happened!” Caroline cried. “Why are you here anyhow, aren’t you some big grouch who hates fun?”

“Is that what they say about me is it,” Klaus said, waspishly. “I’ll have you know, that I am perfectly fun, thank you very much. And I quite enjoy outdoor ice-skating. We did it lots when we were children, and my siblings visiting reminded me of that.”

“How sweet,” Caroline said mockingly, though she noted the slight change in mood, and the wistful look on his face. “Wait, you went skating because you’ll miss them?

Klaus didn’t say anything, but his ears reddened, and she knew she had hit the mark.

“I’m Caroline, by the way,” she said, changing the subject.

“Klaus.”

“I had worked that out.”

“Why are you here, Caroline?” Klaus asked. “Didn’t you organise some great catch-up?”

“Well I did, but the sitter bailed,” Caroline said. “And you know, I’m the only child-free friend, so…”

“I see,” Klaus replied.

“Caroline, can we go back on the ice,” Penny whined.

“Oh, sure thing, sweetie,” Caroline said. “Take care of the little ones though, okay, I’m not going to go out this time.”

“But Aunty Caroline, you gotta,” Jessamy sulked.

“Please Caroline!”

“You have to!”

“I’m so bad at skating,” Caroline implored, for some reason, looking at Klaus, hoping he’d back her up.

“Why doesn’t Uncle Klaus teach you!” Rowan said, ever the pragmatist. “He’s a grown up! Grown ups are good teachers!”

“Well, doesn’t that sound like fun,” Klaus said, that smug-and-charming smirk coming back to his lips in full force.

“Yeah! Then we can have seven players for the game! That will be even better!” Rowan cried. “Come on!” 

With that, the eldest cousin was off, and all the younger ones following closely behind.

“Please, you really don’t have to do this,” Caroline said nervously, even as she got to her feet to follow the children at a slower pace.

“Oh I think I do,” Klaus said. “The children have spoken.”

“But…”

“No buts, Caroline, my nieces and nephews don’t take no for an answer,” he said, then leaned in to whisper almost seductively into her ear. “Neither do I.”

She couldn’t help the tingle that ran through her body at that, nor the wry curl beginning on her lips.

It wasn’t too long before Klaus’ out stretched hand was closing on her own, and he was pulling her onto the ice, teaching her the basics. And less time still before he was settling his hands on her waist behind her to help her ‘keep her balance’.

“You move quickly, don’t you,” she quipped.

“Only when I know I’ve got something worth moving for.”

It was only another ten minutes until the kids found their aunt and uncle, and demanded they join in their complicated skating game. And then just an hour before they were back at her apartment, having skated themselves completely exhausted. And then only thirty minutes before the parents were back.

It was only a few minutes after they all arrived that they found out that Klaus had joined them for skating. And then only a few of seconds before Katherine made a semi-drunk, very-lewd comment about Caroline and Klaus sitting in some sort of plant, doing some sort of natural act together.

And she wasn’t far off the mark, for it was only a day later when Caroline heard from Klaus.

And only the day after that when they went on their first date.

 /

Hope you like! Happy Klaroline bingo!! xoxo

#klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline drabbles #kcbingo2020

[nightklok]

1-chickles 👀👀

100 Ways to Say I Love You Prompts[Open]

God I’m so sorry for the long wait!! I hope that this was okay, just really loved this prompt so I ended up holding it off for a rainy day sdfdf-

1.) “Pull Over. Let me Drive for a while.” Word Count: 1,311 Words Notes: Set in Early-Dethklok, probably a few weeks after they got Toki-

As glamorous as it would be to one day not have to be the designated driver, it unfortunately was not the day for Charles. Dethklok’s first album was just weeks away from being released and the record label it would be a good idea to hype up some publicity by doing some tours in local venues. And by local venues, they meant local states. 

Charles and the tour manager had done some numbers with the budget they were given and while it was substantial, it wouldn’t be enough to hire a tour bus and a driver. Even though the record label was more than kind, there were just some things that the band had to put with for being completely new and almost no audience. Much like any other band, they had to prove their worth.

The tour manager, who was more of an old college roommate that he hired to help, was already ahead of them as was part of the plan. He would be setting things up and making sure the venue would be ready when it would be their time to perform. All that was left was for Charles to drive them to and fro venues and hope that things would be going smoothly. They couldn’t afford any more delays or mistakes. Any mistakes and their career could already be finished before they even got a shot.

So Charles was unfortunately tasked with having to drive through the night to make up for the lost time. Apparently there were a few deaths that had resulted in them having to be delayed by a few hours and Charles having to sign paperwork with the venue. God, he hoped these random deaths weren’t a recurring thing for them.

The band at least was able to sleep thanks to the rented RV. The beds weren’t exactly luxurious and neither were the couches but at least it provided a place to sleep. The only sound was the radio he had on to keep him awake so it had done its job. 

He was frequently on the seek button as he couldn’t quite decide on a particular station. Spanish music, classical, top hits, and he eventually settled on a 80s music station. They had entered the barren parts of California where the road was just endless and there were no other cars or even trees to look at. It would be easy to just fall asleep and to say he was tired wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t pull over and he rest; he could do that when they reached their destination and only had to wait until evening to perform. For now, he just had to power through.

He had heard noise in the kitchen but didn’t say anything. There was no arguing so he didn’t pay much mind to it. After a few minutes, he heard footsteps approaching and saw it was Pickles who had one of those to-go coffee cups, “I figured you might need it. No worries, it’s just coffee.”

Charles glanced at Pickles and gave him a small smile as he used one hand to take the cup. It wasn’t too hot taking a sip and it was those instant coffees. He did add milk and sugar at least so it made the taste more bearable and something he definitely needed, “Thank you, Pickles. I really needed that.”

“No problem, chief.” He grinned at him as he sat down in the passenger seat, “Driving for so long is pretty tough, I get that.”

“You were…ah, a truck driver once, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, surprised ya remember that.” He chuckled, “Didn’t last long. Got too drunk.”

“Well, to be fair, it was all over the media at a point. I’m actually surprised you didn’t lose your license entirely.”

“Ah, just the truck one. I still got my regular license,” He answered. He listened to the radio in between the comfortable silence before immediately recognizing the song, “Oh God, this is one of my songs!”

Charles smiled at Pickles’ discomfort, “Well, it’s a good song. It’s a pretty popular one, at that.”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s like someone reminding ya of those class photos ya’d take as a kid. All awkward an’ shit.”

“I guess I can see that, but I did really like this song back in the day if I have to be honest.”

“Oh, did ya?” Pickles seemed to quickly get rid of his embarrassment, now completely interested, “I know ya told me before I never really thought you’d actually like my older stuff.”

“What can I say? You were-you were really all over the place,” He mused, “It didn’t help you had a nice voice.”

“God, ya really think so? Was that all; just my voice?” He teased.

“Well, I suppose that was one factor.”

“And what was the other?”

“Your hair.”

“You tease!” Pickles gasped and Charles laughed.

“Don’t worry; your hair looks good on you now, too.”

“It was a pain maintaining that hair back then, I’ll tell ya that.”

It ended up turning to a ten minute conversation about hair of all things. Mainly just Pickles ranting over how people didn’t really know how to treat his hair back then so clearly it played some factor in him losing his hair. As the night dragged on and the hours ticking by, Charles was getting more tired and it seemed like the coffee wouldn’t help, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you work as a truck driver to begin with?”

“Honestly? I just wanted to drive. Didn’t care where. Just wanted to get away for a while.”

Charles definitely understood that, “And do you miss that job?”

He shrugged, “Nah, I wouldn’t have gone back even if this band fails and I still had my license. It got too quiet. But the stars, I miss seeing those constantly.”

Admittedly, Charles didn’t really miss the stars as it brought too many memories. Memories he’d rather forget about. He was able to see the stars because of the lack of light pollution and only seeing it with Pickles did he understand why he missed them, “They are nice to look at.”

Some Cinderella song played as they fell into a comfortable silence. He took a look at Charles to see that he yawned and took a sip of the coffee.

“You tired?”

“Just a little; I’ll rest when we get there.”

Pickles fell silent for a few moments before deciding, “Pull over. Let me drive for a while.” 

“Pickles, you don’t have to-“

“No, no, I insist. Besides…we’ll be there by morning and our gig doesn’t start till six, right? I can just sleep in the morning.”

Charles eventually pulled over and put the RV in park. The two stepped outside, for the first time in quite a few hours, and just paused when they looked at each other. They were able to see because of the RV’s headlights as there were no streetlights for miles to come.

“I ah, really appreciate it, Pickles.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Pickles kissed him before he went to the driver’s seat. It was a quick kiss on the cheek but it was enough to get their faces flushed and hearts beating. Even though they had mutually agreed that dating wasn’t the best idea at the moment with their careers still so new, what harm would kissing him be in the middle of the California desert at near three in the morning?

Charles returned to his passenger seat a few moments after, “Hey, Pickles?”

He leaned over to Pickles, and kissed him briefly on the lips, “Thanks, again.”

“You’re welcome,” He smiled, “Now get some rest.”

Charles had found himself falling asleep pretty quickly. The last sounds he heard before he fell asleep were the tires against pavement, a Guns N’ Roses song, and Pickles quietly singing along to it.

#Anonymous #Chickles #Charles Foster Offdensen #Pickles the Drummer #Caffeinated Insomniac Writings #metalocalypse #Not on AO3 #sorry for the long wait!!! #snd this also became so therapeutic to write #I did cry writing this because it felt warm writing it and i needed it jksdfl #so thank you ;-; #If anyone wants to request more of these pls do so I need more fluff sdfljk

[mysteryofren]

Out Of State Adventures

chapter 43 of So Happy Together

masterlist

Tags: @wumboho @pylopenpolo @duty-isnt-always-honour 

A/n: YOOO ELAINES ALMOST GONE IT HURTS also reader and Elaine's goodbye to her house is based of a song called little room by Dodie! Give it a listen for the full sad effect

  Time had gone by. You had seen Ben a few times between then, and now, but not enough to say you're dating just yet. He did keep his promise though. Every time he dropped you off or you left he would ask you to be his girlfriend. You would just laugh, and say bye. Now the summer is almost over. Elaine had her things packed, and ready to go for New York. You looked around the packed room in her home and felt a hint of excitement and sadness in your heart. This was it. The moment you guys had been dreading was coming, and she would have to leave you. Not only that but Hux is leaving too. You had looked in an open box in the corner of her room and saw a bunch of photos, and stuff to decorate her walls. You taped it shut, and wrote on the side what was in it. Her brother had walked by, and smiled at you. 

“Hey. You okay?” He asked walking back over. 

“What am I gonna do without her?” You asked him. 

“Dude, what's she gonna do without you? I know she's gonna be fine without seeing Matt, but you? I never thought she would go anywhere without you.” Sitting down on the bed you sighed. 

“Hey,” He began. “You guys will be fine. You’ll be up there with her in no time.” 

 He walked away again, and left you alone in the room. You looked at a spot where you guys had spilled nail polish on the floor during one of your sleepovers. On the floor was another stain you knew too well. Next to her desk was a dark spot on the floor from all the teas, and coffees shes dropped over the years. She had a bad habit of leaving her drinks at the edge of the desk, and accidentally dropping it. You were gonna miss that. At the dorm when you two put your desks together it was mostly so her mugs would just be pushed onto your desk instead of the floor. 

 You stood, and looked by her door. On the frame was marks that showed how much she had grown over the years. Closer to the top there were always two marks that were fairly close to each other. That’s when her parents started measuring your growth too. You had always wished they were your parents too. They had treated you like you were their kid too, and it always made your heart full when they would bring you to family holidays, and events. Behind her door was a bunch of different doodles, and writing. Elaine had people sign her door whenever they came over. You signed a bunch of times, but you still remember the first one. It was in the bottom left corner. A small heart with your initials in it. Under it you had written ‘your best friend until the end’. You ran your finger across it, and walked out of the room. Her parents had asked your grandfather inf they could borrow his truck for the move, and he happily handed his keys to you. 

The truck wasn’t enough so Matt was going to come by later, and help with the rest. The three of you were going to drive everything up to New York, and help her get settled in. it was going to be a lot of work, but you were ready for it. You know shes going to do the same for you when it comes time to leave.

“You okay? You seem a million miles away.” You heard her mother say. 

“I just cant believe shes already leaving. I feel like we didn’t have enough time.” You told her. 

“Well you both still have time. You guys have the rest of your lives I would say that’s enough time.” she smiled, and hugged you. 

“I feel like there’s never gonna be enough time for me, and her.” 

“Well you girls have been joined at the hip since you met.” she continued talking to you as you helped put more stuff in the bed of the truck. The day went on, and finally everything was done. 

 With the car packed all that was left was a few things for Matt’s car. You all had a 3 day drive ahead of you, which would certainly prove to be a challenge. Elaine, and you had hung out around her town while you waited for Matt to come get the rest of her stuff. The two of you had seen a movie, gotten lunch, and hung out at the park for a little bit. You were sitting on a swing with her watching a dog chase something when she called your name.

“Do you think New York will be fun? I'm scared it's not gonna be fun.” She asked. 

“Listen if it's not, it will be when me, Matt, and Phasma get there.”

“That is something to look forward to. Just wish Hux could be there too. I'm actually gonna miss him, and his dry humor more than anything.” 

“Wow, so you're going to miss Hux more than me?” You feigned offense, and she laughed at you. 

“Oh yeah definitely, what would I do without his remorseless gaze, and over gelled hair.” The two of you laughed. 

“I knew you were using me to get closer to Hux! To think all these years I thought I was really your best friend.” 

“No, it was all an illusion.” You laughed again, and stood up to stretch your legs out. 

“Hey, are you gonna miss me?” She asked, still sitting on the swing. 

“About as much as you’re going to miss Hux.” You joked. 

“I'm serious Y/N. I'm so scared. For the first time ever I'm really gonna be on my own. I'm scared to do it without you. I'm scared of you, and Matt forgetting me.”

“We could never forget you. If anything you'll forget about us. I mean you’ll be at a fancy school with fancy new friends in a fancy new city. You're gonna be great.” 

Just then you got a text. It was Ben. 

‘Hey kid, we're at Elaine's house whenever you guys are ready.’ 

You let her know, and you two left the park. The drive to her house was quiet. Neither of you sat in comfortable silence as she drove to her house. As soon as you got his car packed up you all would be leaving. Then the real anxiety would kick in. None of it ever felt real to you, and it probably wouldn't feel real until you got there. You saw the gate to her neighborhood, and felt nervous for some reason. You guys pulled into the driveway, and you saw Matt, and Bens car sitting with the trunk open. Just then you saw her brother, and Matt walk out with a few boxes. 

 Matt called out to Elaine as the two of you got out of the car. She ran over to him as he put the box down in the trunk. As they kissed you heard her brother groan and walk away. You went inside after him to help finish packing. You walked in, and saw Ben walking with a bag in his hand.

“Hey kid, I think she's only got one bag left, after that we're good to go.” He said stopping next to you, and kissing your cheek. His wording had gone over your head, and you just headed upstairs to grab the bag. 

  Her room was officially empty. All that was in it was her old bed, and a dresser. You picked the bag up from the bed, and headed downstairs. Ben had taken the bag from you, and placed it in the backseat. With that being done it was time to go. You, and Elaine looked at the house from your car. She asked to go in one last time before leaving, and the two of you walked through. You went to every room, and each room you passed through another memory came to your mind. Her parents room where you guys would have late night conversations with her mom. Her oldest brother's room where you guys would watch him play video games. The dining room where her family held so many dinners. Finally you got to her room. There were so many memories that came to mind it was overwhelming. 

 This room had seen a lot. You both had spent holidays here. Talked about boys, told secrets, laughed, cried, and smiled so much in this one little room. It had seen you, and her grow up. Now you guys were too grown to stay here anymore. She hugged you as you two walked out of it. It still didn't feel real yet. The both of you got downstairs to say goodbye to her parents. Her mother smiled as she hugged, and kissed Elaine. Her dad was crying as he held her tight. It would be a long time before they saw each other again. Her parents didn't like traveling so for the most part all their kids did this type of stuff themselves. At least her other brother had decided to go to college locally. 

“So, what's the plan? Are we dropping Ben off,and going from there?” Elaine asked. 

“I'm coming with you guys.” He stated.

“You are?” Elaine had asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Haven't you had enough out of state adventures?” She asked him with an angry tone.

“You're still holding that against me?” 

“Ben I plan on holding it against you until I die.” He put his hands up in defeat, and walked towards your truck. 

“You're driving with me?” You asked him.

“Yeah kid.” He said as he got in. you looked over to Matt's car where you saw Elaine, and Matt getting in. 

“When are you gonna stop calling me kid?” you asked as you got in, and started the car. 

“Until you let me call you my girlfriend.” 

“You are persistent i’ll give you that.” 

“Hey we got a 3 day drive ahead of us. I bet by the end of this you’ll say yes.” 

“Alright its a bet.” You said with a smile. 

 You had been driving for 6 hours already. Night had come, but you all still got as far as you could. You all wanted to at least get across state lines before stopping for a rest. Driving with Ben hadn’t been as unbearable as you thought. It had been fun to your surprise. He would blast music, and the two of you would sing along. He had a habit of badly dancing during some songs though. You thought the drive would never end until finally you the sign welcoming you to the next state. You sighed with relief, and called Elaine. 

‘Hey there's a small motel up ahead we’re gonna stop there.’ she said as soon as she answered the phone. 

‘Thank god. I'm so tired I felt like I was gonna pass out.’ 

‘Don't pass out just yet we still have like 30 minutes before we get there.’ 

 You groaned loudly as you hung up. You were more tired than you were hungry. You all stopped at a gas station for snacks before leaving, and Ben had been handing you yours as time went by. It was a sweet gesture. Every now, and then he would pull out one of your snacks, and he would hold it up for you to take a bite while you kept your eyes on the road. He did it again once you had hung up knowing you would need something to keep you going until then. After, what felt like hours, you had finally seen the neon sign of the motel up ahead. You pulled into it following Matt to where he was going to park. You had to use the bathroom badly so you ran to it as the others checked it. 

 When you finished, and came out the only thing you saw in the parking lot was Ben leaning against the truck. You jogged over to him, and he smiled holding up a key. 

“Where's Elaine and your brother?” You asked.

“Well.” He began, “they didn't have any rooms with two beds. So we ended up getting two rooms.” 

“Okay. that still doesn't explain where they are.” 

“They decided to just share a room so you, and I will be rooming together.” You felt your face begin to heat up. Not only did you have to be stuck in a car with him for three days, but now you also had to sleep in the same room with him. 

  He grabbed your bag out of the car for you along with his. He handed over the key, and gestured for you to go ahead of him. You looked at the room number, and began to look for the room all while he spoke to you about little random things. You didn't dare to look at him as he spoke, because you knew he would see how red your face had gotten. You found the room, and opened it up. As you walked in you felt your heart stop. There was only one bed. You had hoped that maybe it was a room with two twin beds or something, but unfortunately the world isn't so kind today. The door slammed behind you, and you heard him put the bags down on the floor.

“I'm gonna go shower.” You said as you quickly went to the small bathroom, and closed the door. 

  You didn’t need to shower, but you were going to just to get away for a bit. You stripped off your clothes, and started the water, which to your surprise was pretty hot. You were about to hop in when he knocked on the door. Part of you planned to ignore it until he knocked again. You sighed, and wrapped one of the small towels around your body. You opened the door only a crack, and saw him standing against the wall next to the door. He held a pair of folded pajamas in his hand and he held them out.

“Figured you might need these.” He said shoving his hand, and the clothes through. 

“Oh thank you. It completely slipped my mind to grab some.” you said taking them out of his big hand. 

“I mean by all means if you don't need them feel free.” He joked as he gave you a big goofy smile. You playfully hit him, and shut the door. You placed the clothes down, and towel down on the counter when you heard him knock again. 

“Hey save some hot water for me i'm going in after you.” You heard him call out from the room.

 You smiled to yourself, and got in. the entire time you wondered what you were supposed to do for tonight. You could sleep on the floor. He could sleep on the floor. If neither of you came to an agreement about who would sleep on the floor, then maybe you could just use pillows to make a wall between you two. The shower didn’t last too long. You wanted to save him some hot water so you only stayed in for a few minutes before hoping out. You dried your body off, and grabbed another towel for your hair. After changing ino your pajamas you walked out, and saw him laying on the bed. It had new sheets,and a new blanket. 

“Did you change the bedding?” You asked him.

“Oh yeah. My mom always does it at hotels so I guess its just a habit I picked up from her.”

 Just then he jumped up, and grabbed his clothes. He walked to the bathroom. Once you heard the door close you sat on the bed. It was surprisingly soft. You laid down for what you thought would be a second until you fell asleep.

  You woke up slowly. First you just heard the things around you like the birds outside, the cars passing by, and the breeze going through the trees. You moved your body a little when you felt something on you. You linked once. Then twice. Then you opened just one eye to try, and adjust to the lighting. You were facing the window. The sun was shining through the little hole between the two curtains. It couldn't have been too late. Maybe 9 or 10 in the morning. Slowly you reached up to feel for the towel you had fallen asleep with. It was gone. It must have fallen off in the night. At this point you could comfortably open both eyes. You tried to sit up, but something was weighing you down. 

  Slowly you turned your head, and saw Ben sleeping next to you. His body was facing yours, and he had one arm under you, and one on top of you. He looked peaceful. You watched as his nose flared a bit while he breathed, and his lips twitched slightly. He tightened his grip on you a bit as his sleeping body felt your movements. You turned so you were looking up at the ceiling. As you did so you heard him groan, and mumble something under his breath. You smiled, and closed your eyes again. You began to drift off again when you felt him pull you closer, and lay his head in the crook of your neck. You placed a hand gently on the side of his face as you felt his breath tickle your skin. 

  Sleep took you again. This time you woke up, and he was gone. You sat up, and looked around. It was less bright for sure. This time it had to be maybe 12 or 11. The place where Ben had slept next to you was a bit messed up. You stood, and saw the towel that was on your head had been placed back on the chair by the front door. He must have taken it off for you, and placed it there. You slowly walked to the bathroom, and got ready for the day. As you finished getting dressed you heard the door open. Ben called your name out, and you walked out of the bathroom. He had a small bag in his hand, and he placed it on the side table by the bed.

“Drove like 30 minutes to get us some breakfast. Hope you like egg, and cheese bagel sandwiches.” You smiled, and walked over to grab one of the sandwiches from the bag. 

 You opened it up, and began eating when he sat next to you to do the same. You tried to avoid looking at him as you slowly ate. He cleared his throat, and then spoke. 

“So, uh, you sleep good kid?” He asked before taking another bite. You swallowed, and thought for a second.

“Yeah, I did, thank you.” 

“You fell asleep with the towel on your head, but I took it off for you.” 

“Yeah I noticed. Thanks.” 

“Oh yeah no problem.” He said as he finished his sandwich. 

It felt awkward. Like he knew that you saw him cuddled up against you like a big puppy. It was probably best to get it out of the way before you had to sit in a car for 12 hours together.

“So last night wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” You finally said. He smiled a bit as he cleaned up the room. 

“Oh yeah? Why did you think it would be bad?” You stood up, and talked as you packed up your things. 

“I don't know. Just thought it would be awkward sleeping in the same bed together or something.”

“Well I can't say I have any complaints either. You're much better to sleep with than Rey.” your face flushed. 

“Really?” Was all you could bring yourself to ask. 

“Yeah. she never let me hold her while we slept. She's also a bed hog. I would always wake up with Half my body hanging off the bed while she was stretched up.” You laughed while helping him get his sheets off the bed. 

“I completely forgot she does that. When we were kids she would always kick me off the bed, and I would have to go sleep with my grandparents or sleep on the floor.” 

“Yeah exactly! When she would stay at my house I would have to go to the guest bedroom.” 

“Did she ever kick you in her sleep?” You asked. 

“No. She would just slowly push me away.” 

“Well at least she grew out of her sleep kicking. I would wake up with bruises on my back from her kicking.” He laughed as you two finished packing up. 

 You guys stayed chatting as you got your things together to go meet Matt, and Elaine. You both waited by the car, and talked as you waited. After a few minutes you saw them both walk out of their room. They talked as they came down before Elaine saw you. She ran up to you, and you two talked for a bit while the boys went to check out. 

“Sorry we dumped you with him. I wanted to room with you, but Matt really wanted to stay with each other.” 

“It's fine. It wasn't all that bad either.” You said with a smile. Her jaw dropped as she saw your face turn red again. 

“Oh my star. Did you two do something?” She asked. 

“Oh, god, no. I passed out after I showered. I did wake up to him holding me though.” She jumped up, and down a bit while clapping her hands together.

“Yes!!! I know for a fact Solo men are great at cuddling,so how did you like it?” 

“It was so great. I will admit though I think I enjoyed my night with Hux a bit more.” 

“That feels like it was ages ago. To think that was the day we got your dress.” 

“I know. I feel like it's all moving by so quick.” She hugged you, and you both turned to see the boys walk out. 

 They let you know that you had been all checked out, and were set to go. Elaine pulled away from you, and gave you a wink as she walked away. You turned to get in when Ben came behind you, and offered to drive. You gladly handed him the keys, and made your way to the passenger seat. This went on for the rest of the trip. You would stop somewhere, and switch seats. He would drive, then you, then him, and back to you again. Night came again, and once more you two were placed together. The both of you would sleep, cuddle, wake up, eat breakfast, and leave. It stayed that way until you had finally arrived at NYU.

#ben solo fanfiction #ben solo x reader #ben solo #ben solo fanfic #ben solo x y/n #ben solo x female reader #ben solo x you #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #Teen!Reader #kenobi!reader #star wars fanfiction #Star Wars fanfic #star wars #star wars au #star wars tfa #star wars tros #star wars tlj #Matt the radar technician #Female oc #obi wan kenobi #grandpa! obi wan

[softboywriting]

Holding Fire | Shawn Mendes | Firefighter AU

Summary: Shawn is the newest member of Fire Station 15′s crew and he’s a hot one. It’s not long before you and Shawn hit it off and start an amazing new relationship. Will it last or go up in flames? [firefighter au] [slight angst] [fluff] 

Word Count: 18k

|Masterlist In Bio|

When you were ten years old you watched your father’s bakery burn to the ground. When you were sixteen years old you watched your house burn to the ground. Now at twenty two you work at the deli across the street from the fire station that responded to both of those fires and saved you and your families lives. Two of the older firefighters and your father's ex coworkers, Mike and Jack, both stayed in contact with you and became like family to you and your sister after your father died when you were nineteen.

The owner of the deli is Mike, now an ex firefighter, and he hired you just after your dad passed away. The deli is nice and small, you have a few tables for eat in guests and you serve sandwiches and breakfast made to order on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It’s a local hang out for a lot of the town’s police officers and firefighters and it really feels like home. You have gotten to know everybody by name, you’ve memorized their orders and you even keep up with their personal lives as they come in and talk about their day while you make their lunches. Nothing ever changed much in your little town, not until you watched Shawn walk through the doors of the deli one day, Fire and Safety Station 15 shirt tight across his chest. That day...well...it was something.

______________

“Has lover boy stopped in yet today?” Mariel, your best friend and colleague asks from where she is wiping down the cutting boards after slicing up some lettuce for the upcoming lunch rush. “I heard he couldn’t stop staring at you the other day.”

“Mariel! That is not true! Who told you that?” you laugh and she just zips her lips. “Oh you’re the worst. But no, he hasn’t come in today. It’s not even lunchtime yet, he’s probably out working.”

“Oh yes, out saving kittens from trees and kissing babies!” Mariel cackles as she heads to the back room to grab some bread to put in the oven. “Oh Shawn, please, come rescue me!”

You turn scarlet and throw a towel at her. “Stop it! You’re so mean!”

“You’re so single. Get his number, or I will.”

“Mariel you wouldn’t.” She raises her eyebrows as if to challenge your statement. “Mare, you better not. You know I like him and that would be-”

Someone clears their throat at the order counter behind you and you turn around to see Shawn standing there with a flushed face and mess of wet curls on his head. “Could I order?” he smiles, biting his lip.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” you splutter, grabbing your order pad and a pen out of your pocket.

“Long enough to know you were arguing about a guy?” Shawn laughs and you let out a sigh. He hadn’t heard his name. Thank god.

You put your pen and pad on the counter and start scribbling down the orders Shawn gives you for the guys at the station. “And what would you like?” you ask, looking up to see he is smiling at you.

“Actually, I’d like you to make me something today. Your favorite?”

“Yeah?” you giggle and he crosses his arms, making that oh so fitted tee pull across his chest. “You think you can handle my favorite?”

Shawn bites his lip and chuckles. “I think I can handle it, just no tuna please. I’m not wild on tuna salad sandwiches.”

“Damn, my favorite is the tuna.”

“Really?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No! No really. Tuna is gross. Alright, one special of the day.” You scribble it down on your order pad and clip it up on the sandwich station. Mariel comes over and helps you to prepare meats on the slicer for the sandwiches while Shawn leans with his arms folded against the high counter where the toppings are all displayed for easy choosing.

“He’s staring at you,” Mariel whispers and you clench your jaw. “I think he is looking at your ass.”

“Mariel, I’m going to slice my hand if you don’t stop distracting me.”

“I’m just saying, he’s staring right over the counter like a love sick puppy dog.”

You turn around to grab a new ham from the cold case under the topping station and you’re met with Shawn staring, just like Mariel said. “Was there something else you needed?” you ask and Shawn shakes his head. “Just curious?”

“Very curious.”

Mariel turns around and grins. “Curious enough to ask for her number?”

Shawn turns bright red and looks between the two of you. “Well I-I really meant I was curious about what kind of sandwich she's making me.”

“It's a special. Don't worry about it,” you smile teasingly and Shawn drops his head against the top of the case. “I know what you like.”

“Damn girl,” Mariel clucks, elbowing your side. “He's gonna turn into a tomato if you keep up that flirting.”

From the counter behind you, you hear a mumbled “too late” and you know it's Shawn still hiding his face in his arms. He was so cute, a grown man but still somehow boyishly cute. Ugh. Perfect.

You prepare Shawn's sandwich the way you like yours on your lunch break. A classic Italian with extra pepperoni, olive moufletta and spicy brown mustard, toasted. You're sure he will love it. He always got the Italian cold or the French dipped roast beef with extra onion and pepper relish. You had to admit, the guy had good taste in sandwiches. Unlike some guys who came in and they looked cute but their plain turkey with American cheese and mayo turned you way off. Bland eats what bland is.

Mariel helps you sack up the sandwiches and label them according to the list Shawn gave you. She spares you any further embarrassment or attempts at flirting and rings him up while you clean up the slicer and building station. That doesn't stop Shawn from saying goodbye, smiling and tucking a ten dollar bill into the tip jar on his way out.

“You gotta get that man tied down,” Mariel says as she watches him jog across the street. “He's too fine to be the one that got away.”

You wipe your hands on your apron and shrug. “Well...I dunno. I'm just a little wary about him. Like where did he come from? We know everyone in town and this mysterious stranger just appears and has an interest in me? I dunno.”

Mariel rolls her eyes. “You're such a weirdo. If you need to know his whole life story why don't you ask him out?”

“I can't! I mean look at him!”

“Look at you! Damn he thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread! Come on girl read the signals, they're saying, date me date me in big flashing red letters!” Mariel flashes her hands out in front of you for emphasis. “Don't. Let. Him. Slip. Away.”

“Okay! Fine. This weekend is the annual firehouse block party. I'll try to talk to him then.”

“You better or else I'm going to find some way to trap you in a room with him so you have no choice.”

“I will. I promise.”

__________________

Station 15’s annual block party was the event of the summer. It was held at the end of August every year rain or shine and always included live music, barbecue, dancing, games, you name it. Ever since you were little you could remember going to it. The real fun started after the kids went home and it was just the adults in the firehouse drinking and shooting the shit with each other. You remember how your dad would always talk for hours with Mike and Jack, sending you and your sister home with the babysitter for the night. It wasn't until you were eighteen that you were allowed to stay, and even then it was mostly older towns people who stuck around.

These days there was a lot more of a younger crowd, people in their twenties like you are. All your friends having come back from college or having already graduated. The party is bigger now, with families growing every year it seemed. You love it, seeing everyone so happy and together. Usually you'd end up playing games with the young kids because they always looped you into their shenanigans, but this year you had a different agenda. One with Shawn written all over it.

“Can I get a whiskey ginger?” You call out to the guy with his back to you at the bar that is set up inside the firehouse garage. He turns and you find it's none other than Shawn.

“Hey,” he beams, smile going ear to ear. “I didn't know if I'd see you tonight.”

“Ah yeah, I come every year. What about you? Why are you bartending?”

Shawn grabs a bottle of whiskey and starts preparing your drink. “Well I volunteered while the actual bartender stepped out to get some more ice. He should be back soon.”

“Do you know what you're doing?” You chuckle as he accidentally pours the soda all over the little wooden countertop.

“Shit,” he mumbles, wiping it up quick. “I do know what I'm doing surprisingly. Bar tending put me through college,” he chuckles, passing you your drink in it's red solo cup.

You raise your eyebrows. A firefighter who was a bartender who possibly has a degree. What kind of dream boat were you dealing with. “That's interesting, what'd you go to college for?”

“Nothing really, I ended up just going to a community college in Ashland for two years before I decided I hated it. A friend of mine got me into the fire academy and here I am.”

“Wow, you like it though? Firefighting?”

Shawn makes himself a whiskey ginger as well and places it next to yours on the counter top. “It has its days but it's generally very rewarding.”

The bartender returns with a bag of ice that he pours into a cooler. You recognize him to be a guy you went to high school with that you're pretty sure your sister dated. You don't want to hash that past out so you grab your drink and lead Shawn over to a couple of lawn chairs set up for the fireworks show.

“How bout you? College?” Shawn asks as he sinks into the chair beside you. He takes a sip and smiles expectantly.

You shake your head. “College wasn't really on the table for me when I graduated. My sister and I had a hard time after our house burnt down when I was in high school. Then not too long after I graduated my dad died so, it just...it was hell for a few years there.”

“Oh, wow. I didn't realize that I had brought up such a sore subject I'm so sorry.”

You take a sip and lean back in your chair. Your dad's passing still hurt, even three years later and it still felt like just a few months ago. You missed him, especially during things like this, things he helped set up in the community. “No, it's fine. It's been three years now. Cait and I are surviving, I've got the deli and my side business. She got married last year and has a kid on the way.”

“Side business?”

“Yeah, I bake. My dad was a great baker, he started late in life after an accident as a firefighter messed up his leg, had his own place and everything. It burned down, but he reopened a year later. When he passed I couldn't run it alone and Cait had already moved out of town and was starting her own life. We closed up and I started work at the deli while baking on the side, mostly catering small events.”

Shawn crosses his arms and just looks at you. In awe of you it would seem. “You've survived two fires? Damn. My story isn't half as interesting.”

“Oh yeah? Spill your guts.”

“Well, I graduated and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So I took a few classes at the community college just to get some credits out of the way y’know. I picked up bartending with a friend at a bar in downtown Ashland for some extra cash. I did that for about two years before realizing I hated everything about college and the stress caused me ulcers. Another friend of mine had just joined the fire academy and I figured why not? Turned out I was pretty good at saving people.”

“So you never dreamed of being a firefighter? Like as a kid?”

“Nah, never. I wanted to be a doctor but I couldn't commit. Too much responsibility and too many years of school. I guess I just wanted to help people, and this job is just as rewarding and important as being a doctor.”

You glance over and he has his head back, watching the stars appear in the darkening sky overhead. His profile is amazing, strong jaw, perfectly shaped nose and soft lips. He was living art and you're not drunk enough to be admiring him this way. “That's pretty deep,” you say over a sip of your drink. “Do you always pour your heart out to women you like?”

Shawn chuckles as his smile grows wide, a flush on his cheeks. “I don't but I guess you're easy to talk to.”

“Yeah? You're easy to talk to too.”

A loud noise from your left makes you jump and you see a big glowing ball shoot into the air. It's the first firework and it pops, showering the sky with purple and blue light. Shawn downs the rest of his drink and stands, moving his chair right beside you instead of a foot or two away. You don't say anything about the boldness but you like it. He was definitely one worth pursuing.

______________

Sunday. You're still feeling the effects of the block party as you walk to work. You rarely drank enough to get drunk but when you did, whew, you sure did. You and Shawn had ended up meeting up with a couple of the other firefighters and staying up until well after midnight drinking and chatting. It was the most fun you've had in ages and the residual gross body and headache was well worth it.

“So you and hot stuff get together?” Mariel asks as you slip your apron over your head to start the day. “I saw you two in the firehouse drinking and giggling.”

“No,” you chuckle, grabbing some sausage from the fridge to get it started for breakfast. “Shawn walked me home and we parted ways at my doorstep. Like a gentleman.”

“Right but did he kiss you?”

“Mariel, come on! He didn't kiss me. He just said goodnight and went home.”

Mariel snorts. “Do you think he's...”

You sigh and send her a look that could cut glass. “No. I don't think he is gay. He was plenty interested in me and it is not like the time that I read everything completely wrong with William Hannover.” You flip your sausage patty angrily, hitting the flattop with a little more force than necessary with your spatula. Just the idea of going through the embarrassment like you did with William was enough to piss you off. “God, just because he didn't kiss me after one night doesn't mean he's gay. I'll have you know he was-”

Mariel eyes go wide and she mouths “Shawn” and points to the front counter. You turn slowly and Shawn is standing there. He looks like he's just gotten out of the shower, cheeks rosy and hair a little damp and wildly curly on top. His shirt is threatening to rip over his biceps as he puts his arms up on the counter. That must be some damn good cotton stretch fabric. He raises his eyebrows at you. God only knows how long he was standing there but clearly heard you going off.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “And for the record, I am not gay.”

“Oh my God.” You feel like you could just die. Just shrivel up and blow away like a tumbleweed. “I don't think- I mean Mariel just said that because you didn't kiss me...not that you needed to because...fuck.” You put your hand over your flushed face. What a complete ass you've made of yourself. “I've just had a misunderstanding in the past and it's really stupid and-”

“It's okay. I'm not offended or something. I just didn't kiss you because we were drunk, and I don't think anyone should do anything if they're not fully aware and consenting.” Shawn brings his hand up to prop up his chin as he stares at you, smiling around his words. “I actually came by to see if you'd like to go on a date.”

Mariel steps in and grabs the spatula from you. She pushes you toward Shawn with a “I'll worry about the food, go talk to him.”

You walk up to the counter and bite your lip. A date huh? Were you up for that? Maybe. “What kind of date?”

“Dinner? Walk on the beach? Matching tattoos?” He smirks at the last one and you narrow your eyes.

“Dinner is fine. Casual or fancy?”

“Is casual okay? Your choice of restaurant.”

You take a deep breath and smile. “Okay, casual it is. Meet me at The Crab Shack?”

“Tonight or this weekend?”

“This weekend is good. Saturday around six?”

“Perfect. Now, can I get some breakfast or...”

“Oh shit,” you feel around your apron for your order pad. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Shawn laughs. “Take your time, it's a big order. All the guys want something.”

_____________________

Wednesday. You wake up and you just know it's going to be a shitty day. When you look at the calendar and see the date, you know exactly why. It's been a year since you broke up with your ex, Brodie Douglas. Six months you dated him and it seemed serious, you were sure he was gonna be the one you settled down with. Until you caught him in your bed with another girl. It was disgusting. You actually took your mattress to the dump after that and used your savings to buy a new one.

You hadn't seen Brodie since then. The day he left your house he was gone for good. He didn't live in town, he lived closer to Ashland about an hour away. It hurt, still sort of hurt to be honest and every guy since him had been a real flop too. Until Shawn. He actually seemed to have some respect for women and other human beings in general.

You push your thoughts aside, putting the past in the past where it belongs. You had work to do, people to see, a life to live. A life without any assholes in it.

You get in the shower, hot steam filling the bathroom. Your favorite body wash is almost out and you sigh, filling it halfway with hot water and shaking up the remains. That sucked. You definitely didn't want to make a trip into Ashland just to go to the bath and body works. The cab fare alone would dig into your savings. Regular drugstore body wash it would be then.

Midway through soaping up your hair you hear a knock on your front door. You figure if you ignore them they'll probably go away. Besides if it was someone you know then they could text or call you before coming over. You continue washing and the knocking returns.

“Okay fucking really,” you mutter, snatching your towel off the rack and going to the front door. Your hair is dripping wet and there is soap in your left eye. This person better really need something. “Hello?” You ask sharply as you pull open your front door to the cold morning air.

The person on your porch turns and your stomach drops. It's Brodie. His hair has grown out, he looks like he's gained a few pounds and by Gods he's so ugly. Why the fuck were you ever with him? Did he always look like this? Fucking hell.

“Hey, long time no see,” he smiles weakly.

“Goodbye.” You slam the door in his face and flip the lock. This was a joke right? He was going to show up a year later on the day you kicked him out? This had to be some sick joke. What kind of psychopath was he?

“Wait! I need to talk to you!” Brodie yells through the door and you turn to go back to your shower. If he thought you wanted to hear a single word out of his mouth then he was gravely mistaken. “God you're such a bitch!”

You take your time getting ready for work, blow drying your hair and putting on your lotion far slower than you ever would regularly. You want to make sure he is gone before you leave the house. At a quarter till 7 you peek out your front curtains. His car is still parked across the street. The same piece of shit Honda he had before. Great.

You leave the house out the back and jump your neighbors fence to cut across the yards to the intersecting street that lead to the deli. You're sure Brodie is going to notice you haven't left the house and he'll come searching for you eventually, figuring out you snuck out the back. You'd deal with that when you came to it.

Surprisingly work goes smoothly for the most of the morning. You don't mention Brodie to Mariel because you know she will hunt him down and probably knife him. She was there for you after the break up and dealt with the fallout with you. She hated Brodie about as much as you did. It's not until lunch that shit hits the fan.

You're in the middle of making an order for the station that Jeremy called in a little after noon when Brodie appears. You've just finished an italian sub and you look up the see Brodie standing there at the counter.

“Hey, come on, hand me the...” Mariel trails off as she turns to see what was taking you so long. “What the fuck do you want?” She sneers, eyes boring a hole through Brodie and into the back wall.

“I need to talk to you,” Brodie says completely disregarding Mariel's existence. “I wanted to talk about-”

“Yeah I really wanna talk to you after you called me a bitch this morning.”

Mariel steps around in front of you and grabs the lettuce knife out of it's holder on the counter. She rests her arm casually up on the top of the countertop window, knife dangling oh so threateningly. “Listen buddy. If she wanted to talk to you, she'd give you a call. You fucked up, you don't get a second chance.”

“Please I just want to apologise. It wasn't me, I wasn't myself back then or at the house today,” he says, leaning to look past Mariel to where you've turned your back to him.

“Fuck off,” Mariel growls. “Or you're going to be the special of the day.”

“I'm not talking to you bitch,” Brodie sneers at her and pushes off the counter, knocking the tip jar to the ground where it shatters. “I'll see you later then,” he says and he slams the door behind him, the bell chiming harshly throughout the deli.

Marel drops the knife in it's holder and puts her arm around you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. “Thanks. He showed up at the house this morning but I shut the door on him. I knew he'd be back but I just...I just wasn't ready.”

“No no, it's okay. I got your back.”

“Thanks Mare. I hope he gets the hint y'know?”

“Yeah or else.”

_____________

Brodie doesn't get the hint because he's about as thick as an oak door when it comes to reading situations. It's 3pm and you're heading home, watching for Brodie's car as you exit the deli, hand on the pepper spray in your pocket. Not that you think Brodie would try anything but you never know. You're crossing the street toward the fire station when you see him. He's heading toward you on foot as if he had been waiting at the park catty corner to the deli.

You know exactly where to go. The firehouse. All the guys knew you, it would be safer than walking alone with Brodie following you. You keep your eyes locked on the side door to the garage where the trucks are kept. It was always unlocked while the guys were in house. You had delivered sandwiches a few times. You can hear Brodie getting closer, his boots scraping on the pavement behind you.

The door opens just as you get to it and you push past Jeremy, the current station manager. Jeremy mumbles a quiet “What the hell?” But you don't waste time explaining.

Shawn is sitting on one of the old sofas in the living area that is open to the garage and he looks up as you make a bee line for him. He was safe. He would keep Brodie out. You know it. “Hey, what's going on,” he asks and stands up, circling the sofa to meet you.

“I...can you take me home?”

“Yeah, you okay?” Shawn lays his hand on your arm and rubs up to your shoulder. “You look pretty shaken.”

“Was that guy bothering you?” Jeremy asks as he walks into the living area. “I saw him following you and then turn away when you came in.”

You glance over at Jeremy and shake your head. “Yeah, he's nobody. It's fine. I just need a ride.”

“No, was he bothering you?” Shawn asks, stepping past you and heading to the door. “I can go talk to him. No, y'know what, I'm gonna.”

“Shawn don't.” You follow after him but his stride is longer and he is already opening the door. It's half closed by the time you get to it and when you go out you can see Shawn walking across the driveway towards Brodie who's heading back to the park. “Shawn! Stop!”

You jog over just as Shawn reaches Brodie. “Hey, you,” Shawn barks and Brodie turns around.

You grab Shawn's arm and pull him but it's no use. He's far bigger than you in every way. There is no way you can hold him back, he's over six feet of basically pure muscle. His arm flexes under your grip and you can't help but squeeze tighter. “Shawn, please.”

“The fuck do you want dude?” Brodie asks, eyes going to you and then to your hands around Shawn's arm, and finally to Shawn's face.

“You better leave her alone, and stop following girls home.”

Brodie scoffs. “I wasn't following her home. I just need to discuss some private business with her.”

“Yeah, that seems like it would have been a very one sided conversation if she came to the firehouse to get away from you.”

“Who the fuck are you anyway? Her fuckin body guard?”

“Brodie, just go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. We're done, it's over. It's been a year, move on dude. I have.” You step back so you're more behind Shawn. For some reason you're very uncomfortable with Brodie. Something about him wasn't right.

Brodie clicks his tongue and lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh I see what this is. He's your boyfriend right? Got yourself a firefighter in case your house burns down again?”

That hurt. Like a punch to the gut. You don't have time to snap back at him because Shawn's arm is pulling away from yours and colliding with his face. The sound is sickening and you're sure Brodie's nose is broken. He drops like a sack of potatoes, crumpling to his knees on the pavement holding his face.

“Let's go,” Shawn says, shaking his hand out and putting his arm around you to walk you away. “I'll drive you home.”

“You hit him, Shawn, you just punched him!”

“Yeah because he was being an asshole. Don't act like you didn't think about doing it yourself.”

You try to look back, not out of concern, but out of curiosity. Shawn turns your head back forwards and keeps walking you toward his truck parked in the stations lot. “Is he going to be okay?”

Shawn shrugs. “Listen,” he stops with you by the passenger side of the truck. “If you wanna go back and see if he's okay, be my guest. Somehow I really don't think you're going to though. Now can you get in the truck so I can take you home?”

You look back and Brodie is still on the ground. Fuck no you weren't going to go over there. He was an asshole and frankly Shawn was right. You had thought about punching him in his stupid face since the day you found him cheating. Yeah your punch probably would not have done nearly as much damage and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't just as gratifying to have Shawn punch him for you. Maybe he'd get the hint now.

Shawn clicks to unlock his truck on his key fob and you open the door to climb up and in. It's really nice, clean inside like it was new and big. Fitting for a guys Shawn's size. Somehow you don't think it's an overcompensation thing. Shawn gets in and starts it up, pulling out of the lot and passing Brodie who is now up and heading toward the park again. You get just barely a glimpse but you could tell his face is a gruesome scene. Suits him. The ugly prick.

Shawn drops you off, walking you up to your door and making sure you get inside okay. You highly doubt that Brodie would come after you for any reason but honestly you couldn't be one hundred percent sure. He seemed to have snapped and lost his mind in the last year.

“You sure you're gonna be okay? I can stay a while just in case,” Shawn says leaning against the doorway. “I don't mind.”

“No, it's fine. I don't think he's going to bother me anymore. If he shows up I'll call the cops.”

“Yeah, good idea. But just in case I'll give you my number.”

You raise your eyebrows. He was slick. Just working that number exchange right in there like that. “Alright, okay,” you smile, shaking your head as you pull out your phone and he tells you his number. “I'll text you if I need you.”

“What's your number?” He asks, pulling his own phone out of his cargo pocket.

You shake your head. “I'll text you if I need you. Then you'll get my number.”

Shawn smiles, chuckling just a little. He thought he was slick, well, you were slicker. “Alright then. I see how it is. Well, have a good night. Be safe.”

“Yes sir,” you murmur with a little salute as you grab the door and close it with a goodnight. Letting him in was tempting but you think maybe you oughta have a first date before he gets to see the inside of your place. You'd learned your lesson about diving head first into relationships already.

___________________

Saturday. You're sitting on a bench outside the crab shack waiting for Shawn to show up. It's a calm night, breezy and a little chilly. Enough to warrant a light jacket. You mentally note to ask for a inside table and not one on the deck. The restaurant is fairly busy, Saturday night being a popular date and family night apparently. You're not too surprised though. You used to work weekends bussing tables here in high school for about a year before things went to shit with your house and your dad falling ill.

You sigh, looking up at the big decorative crab that held onto the sign over the front doors. As a kid you always begged your dad to lift you up to touch it. It wasn't until you were eight that you ever actually reached it. How satisfying that day was.

“Hey.”

You turn and look to see who's calling out and you see Shawn walking up in a pair of jeans and a nice sweater. “Oh, hey, you made it.”

“Of course I did. Whatcha looking at?” He asks, nodding toward the sign.

“Oh nothing. Just the crab. I used to beg my dad to lift me up to touch it.” You chuckle at how ridiculous that sounds now. “Come on, let's go inside.”

Shawn lets you lead the way along the sidewalk and up to the doors. As you approach the doors a pair of hands wrap around your waist and suddenly you're being lifted up. You let out a shriek and you hear Shawn laughing.

“Touch the crab!” He says, hardly audible through his laughter.

You reach out and touch the lowest dangling leg and he brings you down quickly. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh you know you wanted to touch the crab.”

You smack his chest and he giggles, jumping back to avoid further assault. “Okay, okay I'll warn you next time.”

“Oh so you think there's gonna be a next time?”

“A guy can hope right?”

“Right,” you roll your eyes and walk into the restaurant, Shawn hot on your heels.

The two of you are seated right away in a booth that had a window out to the deck. You chat a little bit about how the firehouse is pretty slow and Shawn mostly naps all day or works out. The waiter comes and takes your orders. You get a burger with a side salad and Shawn gets the shrimp linguine. He makes fun of you for not getting seafood at the seafood restaurant but it's all in good fun. You both know the burgers are just as killer as the seafood and he really can't blame you.

“So, how'd you end up here?” You ask, sipping on your strawberry lemonade.

“The firehouse was looking to hire on a few guys and I was looking to get a job.”

“So you grew up in Ashland?”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, I grew up in Benton. I just went to the community college in Ashland.”

“Benton? The farm town?”

“Yeah, my parents are soybean farmers. I am a farm kid,” he chuckles, looking out the window. “What a shocker I know.”

“Not really. You definitely aren't like any of the guys from the city I've ever known. I guess you were probably raised better than a lot of them though.”

“I dunno. I mean my parents instilled a lot of values into me as a kid, but I got into my fair share of trouble and I had my less than graceful moments growing up.”

You shrug. “I think we all have had our moments in our youth, it's whether or not you learn from them and grow up that matters.”

“You're right, that's a good way of putting it. Damn did I learn some hard lessons though. What about you? Are you from here?”

“Yep. Born and raised here. My parents were both bakers, my mom passed away shortly after I was born so I never really knew her.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no it's fine,” you pause, stirring your lemonade. “Cait, my sister, was like a mom to me growing up. Well, as motherly as she could be. She's only five years older.”

“You said your parents were bakers, that's what you like to do too right?”

“Yeah. I have all my dad's recipes and I'd love to have my own place one day but that's a far off dream. For now I just cater small events and I have a Facebook page.”

The food arrives and your conversation slows as you eat but quickly picks back up as you start discussing the food and trying each other's meals. Shawn tells you about the first time he came to the crab shack with the guys from the station. They ordered two crab boils and ate out on the deck on the long party tables. You'd done it once before for Mike’s birthday a few years back.

The night dwindles down and your pack up what's left of your burger and a few of Shawn's shrimps that he saved for you. He pays, refusing to show you the bill and saying don't worry about it even though you insisted on splitting the cost.

Shawn drives you home, walking you to your door like he had done each time he had taken you home before. This time though you don't go inside right away, you linger on the porch.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You're welcome, I hope you had fun. I know I did.”

“It was great. And thanks again, y'know for the other day with Brodie.”

Shawn crosses his arms and chuckles, looking down as he kicks the toes of his boots against your doormat. “Of course. Anytime. I don't mind punching a douchebag.”

“Fuck, oh my god no!” You laugh, pushing his shoulder. “I meant thank you for being there for me in general. I don't want you punching people.”

“Right, right. But you kinda liked it, I know you did because you had a little triumphant smile on your face the whole way home afterwards.” He reaches out and pinches your cheek. “Just a cute little smirk right here.”

“Quit it!” You giggle, batting at his arm.

He flattens his hand and cups your jaw, instantly changing the whole mood from playful to intimate. His fingers brush against the nape of your neck, thumb smoothing over the little chicken pox scar on your cheek from when you were very little. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says quietly, stepping closer so there's but a few inches between you.

“You're not too bad yourself.”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” Shawn asks, eyes heavy on your lips.

You give a little nod and he leans in. His lips are soft against yours and he caresses the back of your head. It's easily the tenderest kiss you've ever received and it leaves you a little speechless.

“Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You nod numbly, the feeling of his lips lingering as he steps off the porch. He crosses the yard and gets into his truck. You're left there, nerves memorizing the feel of his hand in your hair, his palm on your cheek, his lips on your lips. You never want to snap out of it, you want to stay like this forever.

______________________

For the next few days Shawn stops in for meals for the firehouse. He always chats a bit, making you giggle and flush. Mariel loves to tease you endlessly when he leaves but you can't care because he makes you so happy. Shawn hasn't mentioned a second date yet and you don't want to bring it up in case he doesn't want to, though you're sure he does. You suspect he may be giving you space after the Brodie incident.

You have an event to cater on Thursday. A baby shower in town for your ex coworker Cara. She has asked for three dozen baby boot shaped cookies in blue icing and a small cake with blue iced middle an a white outside. A classic gender reveal cake. You start work on Tuesday so you can be ready to go on Wednesday evening. It's a fairly simple order.

Thursday after work you head to the party, driving Mariel's car to transport the baked goods safely. You arrive and the mother to be, Cara, is elated with the cookies and cake. She helps you set up the cake on a stand and get the cookies into a little box she had on hand to keep them a secret until the reveal.

You're on the deck outback talking to an old friend from high school when you hear a familiar voice. Shawn. You turn and look through a small crowd of people and see him, towering over everyone by the sliding glass doors. He is hugging Cara, and holds up a little bag with a bow on it. So he knows Cara, small world.

“Hey you,” Shawn grins, catching your eye and walking over after greeting Cara. “What're you doing here?”

“I could ask the same.”

“Cara is my cousin.”

“Ohh. I know her because she used to work at the deli. Wow such a small world.”

Shawn chuckles. “Very small. Can I get you a drink?”

“I'm good. Thanks though. How's work been? I know you said you had a call on Monday and that's why you didn't come in for lunch.”

“Yeah, it wasn't much. Just some punk kids setting fire in a trash can at the high school. Everything was fine.” Shawn follows you as you walk into the house because Cara is gathering everyone around for cake and cookies before starting the baby shower games. “How bout you?”

“Usual, work and then going home.”

“No word from Brodie?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. I think he got the message to leave me alone.” You take a seat on a stool in the kitchen while everyone gathers around Cara at the table in the attached dining area. “Have you been keeping your distance because of Brodie?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows. “I've been keeping my distance?”

You shrug.

“Is this because I haven't asked you out again? Because Brodie has nothing to do with that. I promise I want to go out again but I've been covering Ryan's over nights at the station. His wife is sick and I volunteered to help him out.”

“You've been working twenty four hours?”

“More like seventy two hours almost. I got this evening off since Ryan wasn't scheduled.”

“You are gonna crash. I know you can take naps at the station but still, it's not good sleep.” You lay your hand on his arm. “Promise me you'll get some rest tonight?”

“I promise I will. Are you free Friday night?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Meet me at the station around eight?”

You raise your eyebrows and he looks away as the group around the table cheer in congratulations for Cara. James, Cara's husband, calls Shawn over and he walks away to give Cara a hug and congratulate her as well. You watch as he snags a cookie from the box on the table and grins at you, holding it up before taking big bite while James talks to him about something. You roll your eyes. You were definitely going to go on the date with him, even if it was just hanging out at the firehouse. You liked Shawn that much, you could just watch TV with him. Damn. He was getting to you.

_____________

Friday night. You have no idea what to expect as you walk up to the firehouse. Shawn's truck is in the lot and so is Jeremy and Max's. Three meant that was the whole overnight crew. Had Shawn forgotten about your date? You open the side door of the firehouse and walk into the darkened garage toward the living area. It's quiet, no one around and you can feel your heart sink.

“Hey, you're early,” Shawn says, appearing from a doorway to your right. “I was just coming to meet you outside.”

“Oh, are we leaving? Aren't you on the night shift?”

Shawn chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. His shirt strains across his chest and you can't help but bite your lip. “I am on the night shift. I hoped we could stay in and have our date here?”

“Here? But aren't the guys here?”

“They're asleep in the bunks upstairs. I promise we won't be bothered.”

“And what are we doing?”

“Well,” Shawn steps back through the doorway and you follow him. He leads you into the small station kitchen and you can see all the basics for baking laid out on the counter tops. “I thought maybe we could bake together. Or more of you teach me how to bake.”

You grin. A baking date might just be the best thing you'd ever heard of. Shawn was truly a man after your heart. You circle around the center island and touch the bag of flour, chocolate chips, sugar and mini cupcake liners. “So do you want cupcakes or muffins?”

Shawn walks around to meet you and he's holding two aprons in his hand. “Muffins. They're my favorite cheat day food.”

You slide the apron on over your head and look down. It has a little muffin picture glued on to a felt heart. It's cute and you're pretty sure it's hand made. “Did you make this?” You giggle, smoothing your hand over the front of yourself.

“I did. I thought it was cute and you'd like it.” Shawn puts his apron on and his has a matching design. “Now, how bout those muffins?”

Shawn doesn't pay attention to half of what you say as you make the muffins. He tries so hard, he really does and you can tell. His focus is mostly on you, telling you how cute you are and how you're so good at this because you can do it without a recipe.

Every time you ask for him to measure something for you he asks what cup that is. You're pretty sure he has never baked a day in his life let alone used a measuring cup or measuring spoons. How he survived this long you'll never know.

“Shawn, have you not cooked before?” You ask with a giggle as you swat his hand away from the chocolate chips you're measuring.

“I cook all the time. I just don't bake. I don't measure anything other than rice or like liquids.” He leans against your back and tries to sneak his hand around to steal chips. He thinks he's slick. “Let me have some!”

“No!” You giggle and jerk the cup of chips away from his hand. You end up spilling them mostly in the bowl. “Oh you better stop.”

“Or what?” He asks against your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

“I won't make your muffins.”

Shawn's hands slide around your front and up your stomach. “Just one chocolate chip. Just a little tiny one.”

“Fine.” You grab exactly one chocolate chip and hold it up.

He leans over, pressing you into the counter with his chest and waist slotted firmly against your back. He closes his mouth around your fingers and takes the chip. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your ear, kissing it tenderly.

“You're welcome,” you whisper though you're very much alone in the kitchen with him.

Shawn pulls away, turning to grab the muffin tins off the island counter and the tension is broken just like that. He oils the pans just like you reminded him to earlier because the liners he bought were for a mini pan and he had a regular size pan. You can't help but watch as he carefully wipes each cup with an oiled paper towel, deliberately coating every inch of the metal. Something about him being so focused, so interested in baking, makes your heart flutter.

You turn your focus back to the batter. There was no time to be getting caught up in your feelings yet. This was only the second date. “Are you ready for the batter?”

“Yes ma'am,” Shawn grins, holding up his oiled pan. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “I promise I won't make you eat muffins that are scraped out of the tin.”

“I mean I'd still enjoy them, but yeah it's a little easier when they're whole.”

“Okay, put them in the oven for twenty minutes and then we'll be set.”

Shawn carries the pan to the preheated oven and puts it in. “So, what do we want to do while these cook?” He grabs a handful of chocolate chips off the bowl on the counter and shoves it in his mouth. “We have movies.”

“You don't have a plan?”

“Well...ah...” He rubs his neck. “I suck at planning?”

“Obviously.” You walk towards him, hand raised to wipe a smear of chocolate chip on his lip. “You got some chocolate. Hold still.” You wipe it with your thumb but it just smears it. You can't help but stare at his soft pink plush looking lips. They're so kissable, so not chapped and ready for you to lean in and taste.

“Did you get it?”

“Quit talking.” You try again and it almost all comes off. “Hold still there's a little bit left.”

Shawn raises his arm and wipes it on his hand. “Better?”

“Worse!” You let out a laugh and he looks helpless. “I think you had some on your hand!”

“You're gonna have to lick it off.”

“Oh no I'm not.”

“Oh?” He steps closer, backing you against the island. “So you don't want to kiss me? That's not why you were staring at my lips, mouth parting, tongue peaking out to wet them...”

“Shut up.” You lean up and kiss him, licking the chocolate off his lip and smiling in the process. His lips were just as sweet and soft as you imagined.

Shawn brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Knew you wanted to.”

“You talk too much.”

Shawn grins and presses his lips to yours once more. The kiss grows heated and intense. His hand find your hips, yours find his hair and back. You lick into his mouth and he responds just as eagerly.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear someone walk in. You don't even know they're there until you hear, “In the kitchen? Come on.”

Shawn turns his head, eyeing the intruder. You look too, cheeks hot with embarrassment. In the doorway is Jeremy.

“I don't want to know. I just want a water bottle and one of whatever you're making when they're done.”

“Of course, yeah,” you say with a nervous little laugh.

Jeremy grabs his water and mutters something about damn kids these days. As soon as he's out of sight you raise your eyebrows at Shawn.

“They were asleep, I promise.” Shawn pleads. “I'm sorry I embarrassed you.”

“It's okay, I'm not that embarrassed. We were just kissing. But since he is up now, maybe we should keep it a little more low key?”

“Yeah,” Shawn chuckles. “I'll grab some cards if you're up for a few games?”

“Sure.”  

The rest of the night you and Shawn play cards in the kitchen, eat muffins and just talk about all sorts of stuff. He asks about Brodie but you're not too keen on rehashing that past quite yet. You ask him about his parents and what they think of him becoming a firefighter and not taking over the farm. They're actually very proud of him and never expected him to work the farm if he wasn't interested. They were very supportive of him. The night winds down and you're stuffed with enough muffins and decaf coffee to gain a few pounds. Shawn offers to take you home and you accept, taking one last muffin for the road.

________________

“So what's new?” You ask Cait as you walk around your room looking for something to wear on another date with Shawn this coming weekend. He had stopped by the deli on Monday and asked you to go to the beach with him.

“Oh not much, just bedridden and seriously fat,” Cait laughs.

“Oh quit it. You're not fat. The baby is probably fat.”

“You're right on that one. Adam is a big guy, I'd be shocked if this baby was less than seven or eight pounds.”

“So you're due any day huh?”

Cait shuffles around and you're pretty sure she drop the phone for a second. “Any day now. I insisted on not being admitted early because of the bills. I'm beginning to regret that though. This little bugger is killing my back.”

“I bet. Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not yet. We're torn between Nathaniel and Andrew.”

You put your phone on speaker and grab a dress out of your closet. It's a nice simple black A-line. Maybe not too beachy. “Why not use one as a middle name?”

“I'm using dad's name for his middle name. Besides, I'm partial on Nathaniel. It works best with dad's name.”

“You're right. Definitely go with Nathaniel.”

“Duely noted. What about you? How has things been with the firefighter guy?”

You smile to yourself. Was perfect enough of a descriptor? An absolute dream? No. You sound crazy. Shawn was nice and good but he wasn't quite prince charming. Yet. “It's going really well. We have another date this weekend.”

“I Facebook stalked him, he seems like a real genuine guy. What does he like?”

“He likes books and food. I know he likes working out and he definitely has a soft spot for dogs I think. Every time Mr. Peter's walks his dog by the deli, Shawn stares like he wants to pet him so badly.”

Cait laughs. “If he pets that dog he will lose a hand! Remember when it chased us home from the park one time?”

“Oh my God I forgot about that. Damn that dog is old as hell.”

“Probably a real hellhound if you ask me.”

“Cait! Be nice.”

Cait scoffs. You can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Anyway, Shawn sounds like a good guy. I hope he works out for you, God knows you need it.”

“Are you saying I'm hopeless?”

“Your usual taste in men could be better.”

You roll your eyes as you reach for your next dress in the closet. Too fancy for the beach. Jeans and a tee were looking to be the best option right now.

“Are you still planning on coming to the hospital with me?” Cait asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Of course. Mike knows when I get the text from you that I need to go.”

“Awesome. I can't wait to see you. I'm gonna hang up now though, I have to pee and I think I need a snack. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too sis. Bye.”

_________________

It's just before midnight when you wake up to the smell of smoke. It's all too familiar and strikes a deep fear into you immediately. You jump out of bed and look around, there is no smoke in the house. For a split second you think it must be a nightmare, your brain playing tricks on you. Wouldn't be the first time.

You circle your house, taking a walk from your bedroom to the living room and ending in the kitchen. That's when you smell it again. The unmistakable smell of burning. It's coming from the open window in the kitchen. You turn and look to the front door, sure enough there are lights flashing, blurry from your curtains. The sound of sirens suddenly blaring in your ears.

You grab your robe and pull it on, heading for the front door to see what is on fire and where. The moment you step outside it's apparent where the smoke is coming from. One house down in your row of houses, there is black clouds billowing from the front window. The other neighbors are all in their front yards too and four of the firefighters are approaching the house.

One of the crew pulls away and starts jogging across the yards toward you. He pulls his helmet off and you see it's Shawn. In seconds he wraps his arms around you, the bulky gear rough against your exposed skin.

“Oh thank God it's not you.” He says desperately as he squeezes you tighter, face in your hair.  

“What's going on? Of course I'm okay.”

“I saw the address and my stomach sank. I thought you were in danger, I thought I was going to lose you.” He pulls back and cups your face with his gloved hands. “But you're okay.”

You hold his arms and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Yes I'm fine. Go do your job.”

Shawn looks back and two of the guys are walking out of the house carrying fire extinguishers. The owner, an elderly lady, is sitting in her lawn chair just shaking her head. “I think they've got it handled.”

You cup Shawn's cheek and he looks back to you. “Go. I'm fine.”

“Yeah...you're right. You're sure though? Are you feeling okay? I know the fire probably stresses you out.”

“I'm fine. The panic has passed. As much as I'd love to keep you as my emotional support firefighter, I'm sure Jeremy probably wants you with them.”

Shawn chuckles and kisses your cheek. “Tell your neighbors not to scare me half to death again. I dunno if my heart can take it.”

“I'll be sure to do that. Go on,” you shoo him away and he walks backwards, hand in yours until your arm is stretched out to just your fingertips touching.

“Good night,” Shawn says and you let your fingertips slip from his glove.

“Good night Shawn.” You grin and wrap your robe tight around yourself as you head inside to get some sleep.

________________

“Order up!” Mariel yells, passing you a sandwich to ring up.

You punch in the cost and turn to grab a bag of chips from the rack behind you. Your phone buzzes on the shelf under the counter and you spare a glance, obviously too busy to pick it up. It was probably just a telemarketer anyway. Or maybe Shawn making plans since your date the weekend before was amazing. You had taken him for sushi in Ashland and he loved it.

“Alright, that's ten dollars. Would like to add any extras today? A cookie or a drink?” you ask and the customer shakes his head and slides his card.

Your phone buzzes again and this time Mariel steps in and says you should answer it. You grab it and walk over to the side counter. The screen shows an unknown number and you roll your eyes before clicking answer. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God, it's Adam. I'm at the hospital with Cait. Something happened and I can't explain. She's okay but we need you here. She is freaking out.”

“Adam what happened? Is she in labor? What's going on?” You ask frantically, already pulling your apron off as you head for the front door. You glance back at Mariel and she just waves you off. “Adam, what is going on?”

“Cait fell, I don't know how. She called she was taken in an ambulance. They said she is okay but they're doing an ultrasound now. I have to hurry up, I'm using a pay phone outside and I'm out of change. We're at Berkin Ho-” The phone cuts off and the line beeps.

Your stomach churns. You have no idea how you're going to get to Berkin hospital. It's over half an hour drive and you're not really up for trying to find a car and drive there. You pull up the cab services number and as you hit dial, you see Shawn walk out of the firehouse and unlock his truck.

“Shawn,” you mutter desperately. You jog across the street and he looks up with a smile when he sees you. “Shawn, can you take me to Berkin Hospital? Please I'll give you anything you want, I'll owe you a thousand muffins. Please.”

“Whoa hey are you okay?” He asks, circling the front of the truck to hold your arms, eyes scanning you for injury. “What happened?”

“It's not me. It's my sister. She's pregnant...she fell or something I don't know,” you're sobbing, body shaking like a leaf. “Her husband called from a pay phone and he sounded scared and he said Cait is freaking out.”

Shawn pulls you into a quick hug. “Let's go, you need to be there.”

________________

By the time you get to the hospital Cait has just been taken in for a C-section. Adam is in the hall beyond the emergency waiting area and he comes out to explain what happened. He says that Cait said she was going to the kitchen for water when Boo, their cat, got under her feet and she fell backwards onto her butt. Her water broke and she called emergency services, and then him in the ambulance. The doctor recommended a C-section because he is afraid of something having happened in the fall, the baby getting jarred a little harshly, and he doesn't want to wait until Cait is fully dilated in the event there is injury. Cait agreed and decided to have a C-section now, but they're in prep and waiting for her doctor to show up.

You turn to Shawn as Adam walks back through the door to the emergency wing, intending for you to follow him. “You can go home. I'm okay, thanks for bringing me.”

“Can I stay? I really don't have anything going on at home and you look like you could use some company.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Come on.” You lead Shawn through the doors and into the small room where Adam is sitting. “Hey, Adam. Do you mind if Shawn stays?”

Adam looks up from his phone. His eyes are red, he's been crying and you can just now see it in the bright lights of the sterile room. “No, that's fine. He's your boyfriend right? Cait told me you were seeing someone.”

“Ah, yeah. He's my,” you glance over to Shawn and he's trying to hide a smile but failing. “He's my friend. We've gone out a few times. It's whatever.”

Adam looks between the two of you with a half smile. “Me and Cait were just friends too.”

“Shut up,” you murmur, shoving Adam. “Hey, I thought your phone was dead.”

Adam holds it up on a bright purple cord that attached to a wall charger. “One of the nurses got a cord from a lady up in the ICU for me.”

“Oh, that's good.” You look around the small room and lean against the wall awkwardly. There was only one guest chair and Adam was sitting in it.

Shawn picks up on the situation and clears his throat. “Anyone want some food? I can swing by the cafeteria while we wait.”

“No thanks man. I'm not hungry, too nervous,” Adam says and turns back to his phone.

You nod, knowing Shawn probably hasn't eaten in a while. “Yeah, I should eat something. I don't feel like it really but I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Shawn puts his arm around you and leads you into the hall. “I know my way around here pretty well, and I have a discount at the cafeteria.”

“Yeah? Work brings you here?”

“Not always,” Shawn chuckles. “Not always.”

________________

Shawn tells you to get whatever you want as he stands in line at the hot bar. You look around at the selection on the soup and salad bar and decide to just get a small salad and crackers. You meet up with Shawn at the register and he has a tray loaded with food. He shows some sort of ID badge and the cashier scans it before he pays.

“So firefighters get a discount here?” You ask as you dress your salad. “Or are you just special?”

Shawn chuckles. “All emergency service personnel gets a discount here. But I am special too.”

You roll your eyes. “Special huh?”

“Yeah, I was admitted here as a kid. I spent like three weeks in the ICU while they figured out what was wrong with me. Turned out my appendix had attached itself to my muscle tissue and was inflamed to nearly ten times it's size.”

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Shawn chuckles over a bite of his chicken sandwich. “Yeah of course. The appendix is pointless anyway, but it was hell for the doctors to get it off the muscle wall without it bursting. I've got a scar now but it's not too bad.”

“Damn. You're lucky then I guess.”

“Very lucky. Wanna see the scar?” Shawn stands up and tugs his shirt up for you to see. It's pale pink, about the length of your index finger and right along the V of his hip to his lower stomach. “It's faded a lot now.”

“That's big. Did they take any of the muscle with it?”

Shawn plops back down and sticks some fries in his mouth, shaking his head. “Nah. The doctor was really good. But anyway, how about you? Any crazy medical stories?”

“No,” you laugh softly. “I was a healthy non reckless kid.”

“That's no fun. No broken bones? Toys stuck where they shouldn't be?”

“No, oh my God. My dad kept an eye on me and so did Cait.” You push your salad around on the plate, momentarily lost in thought. “Cait is gonna be a good mom.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. I'm glad her and Adam finally got pregnant. They've been trying for ages. She deserves it y'know? After all we've been through, she deserves a happy ending.”

Shawn bumps his water bottle against yours and you look up from where you've spaced out, staring into the depths of your salad bowl. “You deserve it too. Don't forget that.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Yeah I guess so.”

________________

You and Shawn talk a little longer, mostly about family stuff and some crazy childhood stories. Most of his make you wonder how he's even alive still, but you conclude he must just be extremely lucky. Adam texts you and says the doctors are taking Cait to a room to recover and he gives you the floor and room number. You and Shawn wrap up and head for the elevators to get upstairs. Cait would want to see you no doubt.

“So do they know what the gender is yet?” Shawn asks as he leans forward, holding the door open for a nurse who was jogging to catch it.

“Yeah, it's a boy. I just hope they settled on a name.”

“Shawn?” The nurse asks as the doors close softly.

“Uh yeah?” Shawn tilts his head, looking her over as if trying to figure out how she knew his name.

“Darcy, from the emergency responders luncheon two years ago?” The nurse says, grinning.

Shawn shakes his head. “I'm sorry, I don't recall. Did we sit together or...”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sort of.”

You give Shawn a look and he just kinda deadpans.

“I'm really sorry. I must have been out of it.”

Darcy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah obviously. You'd had a few but I didn't think you were smashed enough to forget me.”

Shawn turns scarlet. His eyes go wide and you have a feeling he remembers exactly who Darcy is now. He remains silent until her floor dings and she gets off, leaving you with Shawn alone in an awkward silence.

“She sounded upset. What was that about?”

“Listen, I was a jerk a few years ago. Brand new firefighter with cockiness to spare. Believe me. I was a douchebag. She probably should have slapped me.”

You let out a low whistle as the doors open on your floor and the two of you step out. “So I should be careful huh?”

“I grew up. I promise.”

“Mmhmm.”

You get to Cait's room and she is overjoyed to see you. The baby is sleeping on her chest, so small and fragile, only five pounds she says. His name is Nathaniel. You introduce Shawn and explain that he brought you to the hospital, and he's the one that you'd told her about on the phone. Cait plays it off like she didn't recognize him immediately from her Facebook creeping. After a while of visiting you get to hold the baby while Cait rests.

Shawn looks like he's going to die when you glance over to where he's sitting in one of the guest chairs. He just stares at you while you're cuddling this little tiny bundle of baby and blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold him?” You grin and he looks terrified.

“I don't know. I probably shouldn't.”

You stand and walk over to where Shawn is sitting and you carefully pass Nathaniel to him. He cuddles him against his chest awkwardly, arms huge in comparison. “It's not too hard. See, he fits right in your arm there.”

“He's so small.” Shawn boops the baby's nose. “I always wanted kids one day. But when they're this tiny I'm nervous I'll break them.”

“They're more resilient than you might think.”

Shawn pets back Nathaniel's little bit of sparse dark hair. He looks so soft, so natural holding a baby like this. It makes you smile, and gives you a strange butterfly like feeling in your stomach. Shawn with kids is a little too much for you to dream of but you'd be damned if you weren't.

“You're still here?” Cait asks sleepily from the bed.

“Yeah, Adam is on his way back now. I figured we would stay until he got here.”

As if on cue, Adam walks in with Cait's over night bag. You help Shawn put Nathaniel into his bassinet and give Cait a hug. You say your goodbyes and promise to visit as soon as she's is home and feeling up to visitors. Shawn drives you home, leaving you with a chaste kiss and plans to meet up after work tomorrow evening.

________________

It is just after four in the afternoon a week later and you sit outside the deli waiting for Shawn to get off work. You check your phone, scrolling through social media and chatting with some people who messaged you. Before you know it half an hour has passed and still Shawn hasn't come out of the firehouse. You don't want to seem like that annoying girl but he made plans and wasn't even replying to your texts.

You cross the street and knock on the door. No answer. You try the handle and it's locked. They must be out on a call. You feel kinda bad now, not even thinking about the possibility of him actually working late. You had just gotten used to them not getting called out very much recently.

You decide to walk home, maybe stop by the minimart on the way to grab some snacks. There was no telling when Shawn would be available or if he would even feel like hanging out after a call. It's fine, you would just talk to him tomorrow.

The minimart bell dings and you raise a hand in greeting to Mae, the old woman behind the counter. She greets you with a smile. You grab a few things, a small pint of chocolate ice cream, a Snickers bar and a bag of chips.

“Bad day?” Mae asks, ringing up your purchases.

“No, just wanted a few snacks.” You glance over at her little tv that is showing a newscast from a reporter in a field. There is a massive blaze behind him and he keeps glancing back warily.

“That's sad isn't it?” Mae asks, looking back at the TV. “They said the drivers of both vehicles are dead and the explosion hurt some of the emergency responders trying to get them out.”

Your stomach sinks. Shawn was probably out there. “Oh my God. What happened? Where is it at?”

“Tanker truck hit an SUV I think. It's just off route 45 to Benton I think. Probably a truck coming to fill up the tanks at the Phillips station.”

“I-I have to go.” You leave your items on the counter and take off running for the deli.

The door clatters loudly as you rush in the deli and up to the counter. The few people in the dining area give you worried looks as you lean over the counter.

Mariel comes out of the back area and sees you, her face falling immediately. “What's wrong? What happened?”

“There's an explosion and a crash on 45. I need your keys I need to get there now. Shawn could be there.”

Mariel digs in her apron pocket and hands you her keys. “Be careful.”

Ten agonizing minutes later and you pull Mariel's little blue car over off the side of the highway and leave it in favor of walking the last few hundred feet. The tanker is still on fire, both fire engines are parked off to the side, no hydrants are available for water this far out on the highway. You look around for any of the firefighters, desperate to find out if Shawn is there.

“Ma'am, you can't be here!” An officer yells as you walk past the news crews who are waiting for more details.

You ignore him, your sights set on a group of firemen standing by an ambulance. Your heart is pounding, none of them look tall enough to be Shawn.

Another officer cuts you of, holding up their hand to stop you from getting at closer. “Ma'am you need to go back to your car. No bystanders are allowed near the wreck.”

“I'm not going to the wreck I'm going to the ambulance over there,” you say, pointing to the ambulance that's getting ready to leave.

“No you're not. You need to leave.”

“Sir you don't understand, I need to-”

The officer steps forward as you start to try and pass him. “Ma'am, I'm not going to tell you again. Go back to you vehicle and leave.”

“Jeremy! Ryan!” You shout and the officer says something but you can't hear him. He grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “JEREMY! JEREMY!”

Jeremy turns around and sees you being pulled away by the officer. He comes walking over, calling the officer off as he approaches. “What are you doing here? This is a dangerous situation.”

“Where is Shawn? Is he here? I saw on the news that some people got hurt trying to rescue the drivers.”

“Shawn will be okay. I need you to leave. I'll call you as soon as I can with more information.”

“Oh my God,” you start trembling, stomach churning. “Ohmygod he's in the ambulance isn't he?”

Jeremy puts his hand on your arm and you lean against him. He pulls you into a hug, hand on the back of your head as you let out a heavy sob. “He will be fine. He's strong, he knows the dangers of his job. Please, you need to go home. There is nothing here for you.”

You don't go home. You go to the hospital and wait in the ER lobby for two hours. Two agonizing hours. The receptionist won't tell you anything, she doesn't know anything actually. She says she will let you know when he is allowed visitors. You text Mariel that you have the car and you're at Birkin Hospital. She says she walked home and it's fine that she understands.

You're curled up across two hard seats, half asleep when the receptionist says that Shawn is allowed to have visitors. You grab your purse and push through the automatic doors as they open slowly to the ER rooms. You turn down the hall to room 042 and push the door open and your heart stops.

Shawn is asleep, chest rising and falling softly. He has an oxygen tube in his nose and he's hooked up two a few monitors and an IV drip. He's in a white hospital gown. His face is mostly clean, a few remnants of blood and what looks like mud on his chin. You just stare, tears burning your eyes and spilling over your cheeks. You take a shaky step forward and grab a couple paper towels and wet them in the small wash sink to the right of his bed.

“Jesus Christ what were they doing for two hours?” You wipe at his face, clearing off a smudge of blood from his cheek. It's then you notice his arm is in a white plaster cast and there is tape and gauze sticking out from under the collar of his gown.

The door opens and a nurse walks in. “Oh, hello. I'm Shona. I'm the nurse on rounds for tonight.”

You introduce yourself, lying that you're his fiance just in case she doesn't release any information to you.  You watch as she administers a syringe of something into his IV drip. “What is that?”

“Morphine. He's going to be hurting when he wakes up.”

“What happened? I mean, what took two hours? I know what happened, like the accident.”

Shona grabs a chart on the wall beside the bed and flips it up. “Fractured arm, multiple lacerations to the chest and stomach. Bruised ribs.” She scans down the chart. “Looks like he was on oxygen and being monitored for smoke inhalation and potential internal bleeding for a few hours. The bleeding was negative. That's what took so long it seems.”

“Jesus Christ Shawn.” You ball the paper towel up in your hand and take a seat in the guest chair.

“If you need anything or if he wakes up, let me know. Just press the nurse button and I'll come see how he's doing.”

You nod and Shona leaves the room. You don't care how long it is, you're going to stay until he wakes up.

Jeremy shows up a little while later. He talks to the nurse, getting a run down of Shawn's condition. The two of you talk briefly and and says to text him when Shawn wakes up. Let him know if he wants visitors or if he's going to be admitted. You promise that you'll keep him updated.

________________

“What're you doing here?”

You sit up from where you've passed out across the two hard plastic chairs. It's almost midnight according to the clock on the wall. On the bed Shawn is sitting up right, well, propped more upright with the help of the bed.

“You're awake!”

“Yeah. I just woke up, what happened? Why are you here?”

You stand and go over to the side of the bed. He grabs your hand and holds it in his. “I'm not entirely sure what happened. I think the tanker exploded and you must have been knocked back? You're pretty beat up.”

“Fuck.” Shawn closes his eyes and licks his lip. “I knew I shouldn't have gone into try and help the truck driver. He was already fucking gone.”

“Shawn, it's okay. You were doing your job.”

“I was being an idiot. I know better than to try and go into a situation like that. I could have died.”

You lay your hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at you. “You didn't die. You're fine, a little rough, but you're fine. Stop beating yourself up.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, eyes tearing up. “You should be at home, sleeping and angry I stood you up. Why are you sitting in a crappy ER room with me?”  

“I'm here because I saw the news and I just knew something had happened. I don't know how, but I knew you were hurt and I had to get to you.” You wipe a tear away with your thumb. “I’ve been here since they brought you in. Jeremy came by but he didn't want to hang out too long. I gotta let him know you're awake.”

“How did you know they brought me here?”

“I followed the ambulance. Shawn, I drove to the accident because I was freaking out. I almost got arrested for resisting an officer just to get closer to find out where you were.”

Shawn's eyes widen. “You are the craziest woman I know.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“God I love you.”

“Shawn, you better just stop talking. It sounds like the morphine is making you a little loopy.” You grab the bed remote and press the nurse button. You pull your hand from Shawn's and he pouts, eyeing you from across the room as Shona comes in and starts taking vitals and asking how he feels.

You excuse yourself to the hall so you can call Jeremy. Really it's because Shawn's words just gave you a heart attack and you're pretty sure if he kept talking you'd go into cardiac arrest.

________________

Six hours later and Shawn is released. Jeremy had stopped by with a change of clothes for him from the firehouse. You had tried to get him to call his parents, to let them know what happened, but he said he wasn't ready. The doctor said he shouldn't be left alone, that it would be best if you or someone stayed with him over night just in case but all his vitals were normal and other than bruising and the broken arm, he was in amazing condition. He was lucky.

The drive home is quiet. You swing by the 24 hour pharmacy on the way out of town to get the pain medication that the doctor prescribed. Shawn waits in the car. You grab some snacks and a couple of reusable hot/cold compresses. You're sure he will need them.

You help Shawn into the house and he insists on sleeping on the couch but you know that is not what he needs. You don't mind taking the couch for a few days or even weeks. However long Shawn needed to stay with you was okay. It takes a lot of convincing but he eventually agrees to sleep in your bed propped up.  

“You don't have to do this,” he says for the dozenth time since you left the hospital. “I'll be alright.”

“Shawn, I'm not going to leave you at your place alone. The doctor said to monitor you and that's what I'm going to do.”

He's quiet, just like every time he tried to get you to leave him before. You don't know what he's getting at by telling you the same thing. You're also not sure, but it could be a side effect of the pain medicines making him a little loopy and forgetful. “You're amazing.”

You fluff a blanket out across his lap and shake your head. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would. A thousand times over I would.”

You lean forward to grab a pillow and he grabs your hand, stopping you halfway. You look down at his scraped up knuckles against your soft skin. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He whispers, eyes finding yours. “I’m sorry I scared you and put you through this.”

You rub your thumb over the back of his hand. “You we're doing your job. I know what dangers come with being a fireman. I know what I signed up for.”

Shawn cracks a soft smile. His tired face looking far more gorgeous than it should right now. “You say that like we're a couple.” His eyes are glassy and you want to discuss relationships and feelings right now but somehow you know it's not going to do any good. His medicine was knocking him out and he was getting loose lipped. You don't feel right talking about something serious while he basically has no inhibitions.

“Get some rest,” you say, pulling your hand from his and cupping his cheek. “I'll be in the living room and you can just holler if you need anything.”

“Yes ma'am.” He hums and leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. You move around the room quietly, picking up a few things before leaving him be and by the time you finish he is passed out, soft snores filling the room. You give him one last look from the doorway and sigh softly. You were definitely gone for him and you don't mind one bit.

________________

The next few days Shawn's spends mostly in bed. He doesn't go out, just hangs out at your house while you go to work. The guys from the fire station stop by the deli and ask about him, you tell them he's doing alright. Which he is. He just seems a little shaken up still, like it's really hitting him that he could have died. Jeremy brought you his keys and spare clothes from the station to take home with you so he would have some things to wear.

It's Wednesday and you wake up stiff from sleeping on the couch again. It's your day off and you plan on trying to get Shawn to go visit the guys at the station. You sit up and Shawn is standing in the kitchen trying to break eggs into a bowl with one hand. He's getting visibly annoyed and you climb off the couch to go help.

“Shawn, let me do it,” you say softly as you approach him and see three shattered eggs in a bowl.

He sighs heavily, stepping aside to let you take over. “I hate this.”

“I know.” You fold the carton closed and turn the stove off. “We're going to go out for breakfast. You've been cooped up here for days, it's time to go out.”

Shawn grumbles. “I don't want to go out.”

“Too bad. You're becoming a grumpy old man. And you owe me a date.”

“I do,” he sighs softly. “Okay, you got me. I'll get dressed.”

Half an hour later and you are walking together along the beach and you're feeding him bites of a muffin. The two of you opted to get some blueberry muffins and coffee from the cafe to go.

“I'm really sorry,” he says as you head for the underside of the pier that was attached to the deck of the crab shack

“For what?”

“For putting you through this kind of stress. I was reckless and I got myself hurt.”

You finish off the bit of muffin in your hand and shake your head at him. “I mean, I know what risks a firefighter has to take. I know you're going to get hurt. I don't like it, and yeah, you were reckless and you could have died. But you didn't.”

“I don't even have anything to show for it. I didn't save the truck driver.”

“Hey,” you grab his hand and he threads his fingers through yours. “You have your life to show for it. I'm not angry at you, I'm not even disappointed. I'm glad you're alive and barely hurt.”

Shawn drops your hand and sits down in the sand. You sit beside him and the water washes up over your toes. “Why do you care so much about me?”

“Because I like you. You're an amazing guy and you're sweet. You're everything I've ever dreamed of in a guy. How could I not care?”

He shrugs. “I guess I've never felt that sort of thing from anyone I've dated. We hit it off so fast, I was actually really nervous I was going to fuck everything up.”

“Well you didn't.” You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder. “You actually did quite the opposite.”

“I did everything right?”

You nod.

He grabs your hand and plays with it. His knuckles are scrapped up, red and a little bruised. He measures your hand against his, palms together before bringing it up to kiss softly.

“Can I ask you something really cheesy?”

“Of course.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You laugh softly. Before you met him, you probably would have said no. But there was something about Shawn that changed everything for you. Something that made you feel like you couldn't get enough of him. Something that made you wanna go all in and not stop.

“I think I do.”

________________

Six months later

“Hey hot stuff,” Shawn purrs, hands on your waist pulling you back against him. “Is this my shirt?”

You let out a squeal and drop the spatula you are using to stir your scrambled eggs. “Yes it is. What are you doing scaring me like that?” You laugh, leaning your head back against him.

“Notice anything different?” He wiggles his fingers against your sides. You don't feel the familiar hard edge of his cast pushing against your skin.

“Your cast is gone!”

He turns you around and holds his hands up. The blue plaster cast is totally gone. You put your hand in his and he squeezes gently. “It's going to be weak for a while, but I have stretches and stuff to do to build the strength back up. The doc said my bones looks good and the muscles should bounce back in no time since I did the exercising with my fingers with the cast on.”

“I'm so happy. You'll be able to do more than just in house work at the station. I know between that and hanging around here you were getting a little stir crazy.”

Shawn grabs your hips and lifts you up on the counter top so you're just a hair taller than him. He steps between your legs and bumps his nose against yours. “The only thing that makes me crazy is you.”

“Mmm,” you lean in for a kiss and he kisses you slow and drawn out for just a lingering moment. “This is very sexy and all, but you probably shouldn't be lifting me quite yet.” You lay your hand over his forearm and he makes a noise of protest as he bumps his nose against yours for another kiss. “I'm serious Shawn.”

“I know.” He pulls back, looking at you softly. “I got excited. I haven't been able to do what I want for a while.” He grips the swells of your hips and grins. “Couldn’t hold you like I wanted to.”

“Shawn,” you flush and he gives you bedroom eyes. “Later.” You reach over and pull your pan off the burner so your eggs don't over cook any more.

Shawn looks over and steps back so you can get down and finish making your breakfast. “I'm just saying, my station tee would look really good on the floor of the bedroom right now.”

You turn and point your spatula at him. “And I'm just saying, it sounds like you need to take a cold shower and calm that fire in your pants, hot stuff.”

Shawn just groans and turns away, going to the bathroom. You hear the shower come on and you just laugh, sitting down to eat your breakfast.

________________

“Are you still interested in the old antique shop next to the deli?” Shawn asks one day over lunch. You're sat together in the station dining room while the other guys nap in the bunks upstairs.

“Yeah, but I'm a little over a thousand dollars short. I might take out a loan or something. I really want to open the bakery. I'm so close but it's still so far.”

Shawn twirls a stir stick between his fingers. “I uh...I have a couple grand in my savings.”

“No.”

“Honey, I'd be an investor. Hell, I don't even know if I'll be able to come back to firefighting full time with my arm the way it is. I've got permanent screws in it. If I can make your dream come true, and possibly be a part of it, then that's everything I could ever want.”

You lay your hand over the scars on the back of his forearm and sigh softly. “You're making great progress. The doctor said the screws shouldn't stop you from doing your job.”

Shawn sighs. “It's just...what if I get hurt again? What if it's worse?”

“Shawn.” You turn his face up to look at you across the table. “Why did you take this job? Remember what you told me when I asked why you became a firefighter?”

“Because I wanted to help people.”

“That's right. And you're going to do that. You're going to save so many lives Shawn. I know you're anxious about returning to the job completely, but don't get into the mindset that it's not going to work. You can do anything.”

“You're right. I can. So I'm going to be a firefighter and I'm also going to be an investor in your bakery.”

You shake your head as you let out a laugh. “Shawn, no! I can get a loan.”

“Listen,” he covers your hands with his and lifts them up. “I always wanted to help people, that was my dream, and I'm doing something I love no matter how anxious I am about returning to it. You want to bake, you deserve to have your dreams come true as well. Let me be part of it, please?” He kisses your fingers gently.

“Fine. Just the thousand, I'll pick up the rest. It'll be enough to get the lease on the shop, supplies and pay the first two months utilities. I have all of dad's equipment in storage so we just have to install everything.”

Shawn grins big. “I know a couple of strong guys who would love to help out in exchange for some baked goods.” You giggle and he leans over the table to kiss you.

__________________

“The place is all set up with fairly new electrical and plumbing, everything is up to code for a food business or retail. What was it you wanted to put in here?” The realtor asks as she walks you and Shawn around the empty shop.

“A bakery.” You stand by a counter that could use some love but would work for the time being.

“Oh! Well the building was actually a bakery at one time so the outlets should definitely be up to code for food equipment.”

You turn and look at the realtor. Her name is Peggy. “I know. It was my dad's place.”

“Wow! Really? That's amazing. Does the landowner know that?”

“I'm not sure. Why?”

“Well, sometimes people are sentimental to family businesses. I can talk to him if you like, it's worth a shot.” Peggy lays down her folder on the counter. “I'll leave you with some of the information on the building. I'm sure you probably know most of it, but take a look at it and get back to me with an offer and I'll contact the owner.”

Shawn walks over from the windows and puts his arm around your waist. “Why didn't you tell me this  was your dad's place? This is going to be amazing.”

“I know, I can't wait,” you beam, taking the folder off the counter and following Peggy out of the building.

_______________

You walk in the doors of the firehouse and the place is loud and bustling. The garage and living area have been turned into a party room. It's the annual fill the boot fundraiser, where the firefighters raise money to fill one of the boots from their gear to donate to a charity. It's an adult only event that goes over quite well with the town's residents. There is food, drinks, games and even a little something special. Every year a couple of the guys volunteer to play a game where they dress up in all of their gear and attendees pay set amounts for certain pieces of clothing and gear to come off. All proceeds from the game, food, and drinks  go to “fill the boot” for the years charity. This is only your second year attending and Shawn said you had to come, that he'd be devastated if you didn't.

You're a little late, having worked an extra hour at the deli to help deep clean behind the counter. You had already promised you would or else you wouldn't have stayed. There is loud music, some catchy country band blaring over the speakers in the garage. Everyone is chatting and having a good time. You don't see Shawn right away, eyes scanning for the hard to miss giant.

“Grab a table, I'm gonna get drinks!” Mariel shouts from beside you over the music.

You no sooner get sat down then the DJ for the evening is announcing that they're going to have their next firefighter come out for the clothing bidding and that the goal is three hundred dollars. It's a steep amount, usually the guys go for a hundred or so.

“Again, that goal is three hundred dollars! And as always no touching the firefighters unless they allow it. Keep your hands in your pockets and your cash ready to donate!”

Shawn walks out of the office in his gear and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. No wonder they were looking to raise so much. Shawn was the youngest on staff and by far the most attractive. Of course you're biased, but you see the way people stare at him when you go out. Honestly you can't blame them, but he is all yours.

Mariel sits next to you and slides you a Coke. “Is that your man?”

“Yes.” You lean back, folding your arms in amusement. You can't wait to see how fast his clothes come off.

The DJ starts the bidding with his helmet at twenty dollars. Usually it's a ten dollar item but not with this hot commodity. The helmet is gone instantly, a lady you recognize from the grocery store hands over a bill for it. Gloves fly off at twenty. Boots at thirty take a minute but someone takes one for the team to get the ball rolling. His jacket is next and you just chuckle at the crowd already getting excited.

Shawn looks to you and you just shake your head. He walks into the tables toward you and starts unbuttoning his jacket, opening it and cheering people on to donate the forty dollars to take it off. He winks at you, biting his lip. There is a taker as soon as he leans against the table of a group of college girls across from you.

The pants are next, it's just the fireproof ones but the way Shawn undoes them you'd think he was taking off his jeans already. People are getting rowdy, young ladies reaching for him. The pants donation goes fast. He returns to the front area where the DJ is calling out the next article of clothing. He is barefooted, standing up there in his blue jeans and tee shirt. Of course he has on one of his station shirts that is tight and shows off his body. The jerk. He was loving this.

Mariel lets out a whistle as the DJ calls for his shirt donation. A whopping fifty dollars. You roll your eyes and he grabs the edges, ready to pull off. A guy walks up and drops the donation into the DJ's hand. Shawn pulls the tee up and over, revealing a tank top underneath.

“Are you sure he's wasn't a stripper?” Mariel laughs.

“Nah, he's just cocky. He knows all these people want him.”

“He's just showing off for you.”

“Probably.”

The DJ announces his undershirt for fifty dollars. There's a hesitation in the crowd. It's a lot, and it's one of the top two with the best result physically. “Fifty dollars, for the elementary school to get new play equipment! Come on up, you know you want to see this hot piece of man take his shirt off. It's the best part of the evening- We got a taker!”

Mariel stands up and walks across the room with her money. “Take it off Mendes!”

Shawn throws his head back and laughs. He pulls the tank top off and the room goes apeshit. He crosses the room and hands his tank top to you and Mariel. “Too bad babe, you should have bid on my shirt. I'd have brought it to you too.”

“But I'm going to get it tonight anyway.”

Shawn leans forward and grins. “Yes you will.”

Up next is his pants and that's the last fifty dollars. It takes no time, the DJ doesn't even finish announcing it before three of the college girls come up, the money between them. Sure enough, Shawn undoes his button, zips them down and shucks them. He stands there in his dark red boxers while everyone cheers.

“That is it! Three hundred dollars and you Mr. Mendes are free to get dressed!”

“How much for the boxers?!” Someone yells and Shawn flushes. You laugh.

Shawn goes to the booth and says something inaudible. The DJ leans over to talk to Jeremy who's handling the donation totals.

“Four hundred dollars?” The DJ says quietly, but loud enough everyone can still hear on the speaker. The three men talk quietly for a moment and then Shawn steps back, walking with a smirk to the middle of the front area.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Shawn grins, hands on his hips. “For the remaining amount that we need to raise. For four hundred dollars, yes, four big ones, I will take off my boxers right here and right now.”

Your eyes go wide and you stand up. Shawn looks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. You shake your head as he silently dares you to stop him.

“Do you take credit cards?” Someone yells jokingly.

Shawn saunters out into the crowd and glides his thumbs along his waistband. “No cards, only cold hard cash.”

You leave your seat and walk around to meet him. You lay your hand on his chest and walk him right back up to the front, eyes locked on his the whole time. He knew how to get you riled up. That was for sure.

“No touching ma'am!” The DJ calls out

Shawn raises his arm and waves him off, allowing it for you.

“You want me to donate it don't you?”

“I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.” He leans in and whispers, “It's working.”

“Do we have a donation?” The DJ asks and you look over to him. To the right you can see a table of people getting their money together. It's about to happen.

“You got your rise.” You glance down at his stomach and he chuckles.

“I did. Grab my wallet out of my jeans. There's a couple hundred in there for tonight.”

You step past him, grab his jeans and fish his wallet out. You march to the DJ booth and hand over the money.

“Ladies and gentlemen we have hit our goal!”

Shawn grabs the mic from the DJ and grins, “If you guys don't mind, I think I'll take my boxers off in front of the lady here in private.”

There's a sigh of disappointment from the crowd.

“Now now, I think she earned it since she is the sole donor.” He looks over at you and you roll your eyes. “And my beautiful girlfriend.”

An awe from the crowd erupts and they cheer as you help Shawn gather up his gear and clothes to take back into the office. The two of you squeeze into the tiny room and Shawn just laughs.

“You're such a little shit,” you laugh and shove his shoulder. “What if I didn't step up?”

“Then I guess I'd be flashing a room of people right now.”

You cross your arms and he steps close, hands on your hips.

“Honey, I'm teasing. I would have made the donation myself. You know I'm yours, I'm not going to show the goods off to the public.”

“There were enough eyes on you tonight. Thank God they can't touch you.”

“Hey,” he whispers, tilting your head to look at him. “I'm yours and you're mine remember? It's just for fun.”

“You're right,” you sigh and close your eyes. “I'm jealous over nothing. I'm sorry.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. “I forgive you. Now, you wanna see my dick?” he laughs.

“Not unless you're putting it to good use.” You smirk and he raises his eyebrows.

He growls and pulls your hips against his and gives you that look that could make you do just about anything. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

________________

Three months later

The grand opening if Hot Stuff Bakery is easily one of the best days of your life. The owner of the building accepted your offer after the realtor told him your history with it. You ended up getting it for quite a bit less than you planned so you actually had a little left over to do some extra renovation to the front end.

You and your friends and family are all standing around talking, everyone is enjoying your dipping bread and muffins. The whole town has come out to see your shop and reminisce on the days when your dad owned the place. Many say it has the same charm and for that you couldn't be more proud.

“Hey,” Shawn comes around with a little white to go box in his hand. “I made you something.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, grabbing his box and opening it to find a little white frosted cupcake. It's a perfect spiral, just how you'd showed him.

“I made it at home while you were here last night. I even made a strawberry filling. But there is another surprise in there too.”

You raise your eyebrows. Mr. Fancy over here was really trying to win your heart. As if he didn't already have it. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

You go over to the refrigerator case and pull out a chocolate iced cupcake. “Well, see the funny thing is, I also made you a special cupcake.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes.” You laugh as you set it down in front of him. “I'm appalled you stole my idea.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and smiles. “I guess we’re like meant to be together or something.”

“Yep. Now, rock paper scissors to see who gets surprised first?” You hold your fist up over your hand and he does the same. Three quick rounds and he emerges the victor. “Ugh! I don't wanna go first.”

“Too bad.” Shawn places the cupcake in your hand.

You dig your thumbs into the side of it. “I gotta see this filling.” You look up at him and he's just grinning. You pull the soft cake apart and out oozes some very delicious looking strawberry jam but also something hard. You pick it out of the sticky filling and realize exactly what it is. A wedding ring.

“Will you marry me?” Shawn asks taking the ring and wiping it on his jeans.

Your jaw drops. You turn and grab his cupcake. “I think your answer is in here.”

Shawn frowns, confused about your reaction. He takes the cake and opens it like you had. There is no filling in his, and a little tiny toy baby falls out onto the counter. “I... don't understand. How is this my answer?”

“What is it?”

“A toy baby? I don't get it, am I supposed to-” His eyes  widen and you can literally see his brain working. “You're pregnant?!”

“Two months!” You blurt out and everyone looks at the two of you.

Shawn drops down, hands shaking on your waist. He presses his forehead against your stomach and lets out a little cry of joy and kisses you. He stands back up, hands all over your sides and stomach. “I'm going to be a dad... I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to get married!”

Ryan and Jeremy start the congratulations, clapping loudly and everyone joins in. “You always said you were gonna marry her one day!” Jeremy laughs and you look over and back to Shawn.

“You really said that to them?” you laugh and he wraps his arms around you and spins you around.

“I did. The first day I met you in the deli, I knew I had to marry you someday.” He sets you down and cups your face. “I can't wait to be your husband, and a dad.”

“Me neither.” You grin and he bumps his nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too. To the moon and back.”

You close your eyes and smile. “To the moon and back.”

End

______________________________________

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me everything you thought, felt, or things you wanna know! I appreciate every ask and reblog I receive. Please please please leave feedback via ask, reply, message or reblog! 

Thank you again. Without amazing readers I’d never have kept writing. 

-A

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes stories #shawn mendes words #shawn mendes fics #shawn mendes au fic #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Kids, Monsters, D&D, and Adults (Sriracha, Part. 18)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: You decided to give Hopper a short break from seeing you every day... But you didn't know how much can happen in your hometown in a week and a half you're gone.

A/N: And... Welcome Mr. Demogorgon disrupting everyone’s life on the stage, please, give it up for him! (Reader is on holiday in North Dakota during the events of the first season.)

A/N 2: I went a bit off the OG events, but here, I have drunk Hopper on the phone mumbling about being cursed for you, enjoy, please. Actually inspired by Heroes (Peter Gabriel's cover) - the song playing when they found Will's body.

Word count: 4.1 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​, @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E

Just as your mom asked you to, two days after the dinner at your parents’, Jim dropped you off at your house in the early morning. It was more or less safe since it was only five in the morning and Hawkins was dead asleep at the moment. You didn't want him to be alone, but he brushed you off with ’it's only twelve days, what can happen during that?’ and you reminded him of what you had done in twelve days, leaving him with a nasty grin. 

You both almost fainted, because just in the middle of your heated making-out session, just as his hand palmed your thigh as you basically climbed onto his seat, your brother came out of the house along with Steve, grinning. Steve looked at both of you with confusion before turning around and disappearing.

Steve Harrington had a girlfriend now, or so you heard. Nancy Wheeler became to lucky one, at least that was what the rumors were saying. He couldn't forgive about the endless crush on you, though.¨

You told Hopper to leave for work before your mom sees him there, laughing as Aiden helped you with your stuff, greeting Hopper. He really did drive, honking at your parents, waving at them as he left for the station. 

It was the third of November - you were supposed to see Hopper again on the sixteenth day of that month. And you were honestly ready to take a short break from the everlasting dishes and laundry at your house and just relax before coming back to the arms of the man you grew to adore. 

To be honest, you loved your father’s parents’ house in North Dakota - it was a big house in the middle of nothing, ten minutes away from the nearest signs civilization. The sixteen-hours lasting road trip in your/Aiden's car was almost endless and it was hot like hell at whiles, but in the end, you loved the view more than anything.

You had also a lot of family members, like aunties and cousins your age there and you were excited to meet all of them after such a long time. You promised a call to Hopper as soon as you reach their house - and so you did, giving him the number as well. It was midnight, but you knew that he’s waiting for it. And of course, he picked up as soon as you started ringing, laughing like a small kid when you told him that he rather should go to sleep.

It was a quick call just to reassure you that he's fine - you asked him about food and laundry and he told you, with a chuckle, that you're worried too much and that he managed to survive forty years without you - that thirteen days is basically nothing.

Most of the days, you spent walking around in the wilderness. Your cousin Corrie showed you a pack of wild bison living near your grandparent’s house and a great overlook. Other days, you and your other cousin Jane helped your granny with baking and cooking or tiding up. Everyone was thrilled to have you there because they saw both you and Aiden once a year. They took you to the local cinema, for some shopping and even for a time at the local pool and local dance. You were enjoying yourself the most you could. 

Everyone was surprised when someone asked you the typical question - ’And do you have a boyfriend already?’ - and your mom answered ’She, in fact, has. And it's a lovely lad.’, winking at you. She still wasn't okay with Hopper, it was only four days since the dinner, but she was slowly adjusting to the situation. They asked you a lot about that mysterious ’Jim’, but you never told them much about your man. 

It came on the third day you were in Dakota - the sixth of November. You were just playing with your four-year-old cousin Marty, building Lego spaceships, when your grandma came into the room, holding a phone in her hand, handing you the handset. 

“It’s some Mr. Hopper. He told me that he has to speak to you immediately. He told me that he knows you.” - She whispered while you put Jim on your ear, nodding. You let Marty play with the Lego and left to an empty room. 

“Do you miss me that much, Mr. Hopper?” - You joked, but at the moment you heard Jim sighing, you knew that somethings extremely wrong in Hawkins. First, you thought that maybe he wants to break up with you - but then you remembered him asking about your panties yesterday when you called him around two a.m. and shook the thought off. - “What's going on, Jim? I'm here. Is it Vietnam? New York? Sara?”

“No, it's not that... I just... Jesus, I feel like I need to talk to someone and you're the only one who is goin’ to listen to me and actually understands.” - Okay, so Mr. Hopper was clearly drunk and smoking on the other end of the line, so you sat down on a sofa, exhaling slowly. - “Sometimes... I feel like shit, but you know that. But now, I feel fuckin' cursed, Y/N. And you're not here to stop me from doin’ shit.” - He giggled drunkenly and you stiffened. What was his fucking deal? Had something happened after you left Hawkins? Had Diane called? Did something happen at the station? Did Steve fucking Harrington tell someone what he saw? You swore to God...

“Jim, what you're after? I don't understand, baby, you need to tell me what's wrong.” - You mumbled back and looked at Aiden, who was just checking in on you. You mouthed ’Hopper’ and he nodded before closing up the door after him, telling everyone to keep off the line and out of the room.

“I'm a fuckin’ black hole, y’ know? All the fuckin’ shit that ever happened in Hawkins... It follows me. The last case of person goin’ missin’ happened in the summer of ’23 and the last suicide here was on the fall of ’61, y’ know?” - He asked you rhetorically and you just kept on being silent, trying to decipher the meaning of his entire speech.

“And when I find someone or somethin’ I can fight for or when I feel safe for a minute, it all goes to shit after a while, it all just fuckin' goes to shit.” - Jim said and you could hear him crying. 

“Will you tell me what happened finally? You're freaking me out, Jim.” - You asked silently, playing with the hem of your sweater. Hopper was clearly angry and terrified of something - he would probably get drunk even if you were in Hawkins. His voice was emotionless, he was playing the tough guy card at the moment.

“A kid got lost today.” - He answered honestly and your breath got stuck a bit, but you kept your damn mouth shut since you could hear him taking a breath to continue. - “I thought he has just wandered off the main road or somethin’ but it really looks like that kid’s missin’. It's the Byers boy, that younger one.” - He told you and you closed your eyes. No wonder he felt like shit when a kid got lost in the woods, probably. 

“Have you found something, Jim? Don't be angry or sad, there's still hope.” - You whispered, watching your cousin Diane in the same age little Will was playing outside with a ball.

You knew Joyce Byers from occasionally visiting Melvald’s in the downtown. You remember the day you walked in and while you were handing her the cash, she pointed out on a drawing of a big rainbow spaceship and proudly, she said ’My son Will drew this.’ You knew her boys from meeting them sometimes. The brothers were a bit weird, but when a kid goes missing, you don't care if they were weird or not.

You just want to find them as quickly as possible.

"A bike if that's what you wanna call 'a find'." - Hopper mouthed back and you could hear him crying, he just couldn't handle the situation anymore. It was breaking your heart to hear him being this much fucked up. You wanted to hug him, press your body onto his, hold him tight and whisper him sweet nothings. You wanted to kiss him and make things right at least for a second.

"James Hopper, you better listen to me right now. You're the best cop I've ever seen. Stop whining, go to sleep now and you're going to find this fucking kid because that kid is lost somewhere in the woods, it's freezing to death, it's terrified and alone, you hear me?" - You said aggressively, being completely done with him and his self-shaming shit at that point. - "You won't duck out and you will make me proud."

You talked to him until the moment he really fell asleep, walking out of the empty room after the phone went silent. There were emptiness and horror inside of you. Will Byers got lost and your boyfriend promised himself to find him. You were destroyed, tired and worried for Jim, but you encouraged him enough to trust in himself. Or at least you thought so.

"What happened? Is Hopper doing okay?" - Your mom asked with a furrow as soon as you entered the door and you shook your head, looking at her with terror. They were just having a huge family dinner outside your granny's house, everyone from the family came to greet you.

"A kid went missing in Hawkins. You remember that little Byers? He always rode the bike with his friends, they were inseparable." - You mumbled and your mom only let out quiet 'Oh God' to summarize the whole situation. She went on a and gave Joyce a call - to tell her not to lose hope in finding Will.

You haven't left the house for the other two days - Hopper could call literally every minute and almost everyone got invested in that kid going missing. You missed a few cool trips here and there, but Hopper hadn't disappointed; he gave you heads up every few other hours. And you even laughed at times which you definitely didn't expect - like the time when it came to talking with Will's best friends.

"You wouldn't believe how bad I am with kids, these little fuckers were just fuckin' around with me, talkin’ about Lord of the Rings and stuff... Jesus." - Hopper mumbled with a quiet chuckle, lighting up another cigarette. He was calling you from a telephone booth and left Powell with Callahan in his Blazer, and according to his words, those men watched his every move. You chuckled at that. Jim really took your words directly to his heart, doing his best to save the damn kid. He was not giving up on that boy.

To find what happened, he talked with his best friends and the way he told you the investigation was going was so hilarious it made you laugh like crazy.

"No way. Jim Hopper is good at everything." - You hummed back and crossed your legs, thinking about some really nasty things.

"Am I? At what exactly, I can't seem to remember." - He asked in his deep voice and you knew that it's about to go really nasty. You yelled at your mom to get off the phone immediately through the whole fucking house just to have some privacy. Hopper, again, chuckled at that.

"Like... I don't know, folding clothes?" - You asked innocently still worrying that your mom's listening to that conversation. But as soon as you heard her yelling something at your cousins, you knew she really got off. - "After you tear it down off of me."

"Someone's in the mood to play, I see. I would like to stay and hear you foldin' your clothes, but the boys are in a hurry." - Jim whispered, yelling something at the two cops.

"Jim?" - You asked and you got only a hum as a response. - "Be safe out there, okay?"

"I'm missin' you here. I'm lookin' forward to seeing you." - He answered and the line got quiet again. You missed him as well, but in the end, you had only eight days in front of you. What could go wrong? And that was a dumb question to ask.

Well, a lot could go wrong actually, since the other day, Hopper's calls got less and less frequent until they stopped completely. It was the ninth of November when mom woke you up really late in the night. He handed you over the handset, making you sit up

"It's Hopper and he was really... Weird. It seems urgent. He was ringing the number fifteen minutes in a row." - She whispered and sat next to you on the bed, hugging your shoulder. It didn't matter how old Hopper was or what reputation did he have. He needed just as a human being needs another one to lean into. He needed you as a partner and no matter how stressful that was, you wanted to be there for him. And your mom understood that clearly.

"Jim, Jim, it's me." - You mumbled sleepily and listened to him hyperventilating. He was crying again, but he was trying to calm down now. He sometimes woke up with these panic attacks. Something went awfully off the rails in Hawkins. This wasn't the Jim you grew to know and love. - "Baby, stay here with me, let's do this together. Breathe in and out, just like that, that's it, that's it. In and out."

"We found the boy." - He muttered out when he calmed down finally. sobbing. He may pretend to be the rough edge guy, but you knew that's the exact opposite of his character when no-one can see him. He didn't get too friendly with people in Hawkins, but he cared about each one of them. That's why he was the Chief in the end.

"And what happened? Is everyone alright? Is he safe now?" - You asked and mouthed 'They found Will' to your mom. You were about to cry as well - he was making such heart-wrenching sounds that only that alone made your eyes water.

"He drowned in the quarry." - Hopper told you, lighting up a cigarette. - "He was decomposed, but the guys from the CIA told us that it's the boy for sure. Jesus." - And that was the moment you started to cry, putting a palm in front of your mouth. It wasn't hard to make out what had happened to little Will Byers.

"How's everyone doing? What about Joyce? Do you want me to come back? Just say a word and I'm on my way back, just like that." - You asked when you finally caught your breath. Your mom was holding you tight because it really had shocked you and she was also listening to everything Hopper said. She kissed your shoulder, closing her eyes. You have never spoken to that kid, but... He was so young. And according to Joyce really bright and creative. This wasn't fair. This just wasn't fair. He had a whole life ahead and now, it was just gone. Hopes were lost just like that. You felt the cold and emptiness growing in your chest again.

"No... Just stay there until I know it's safe here again, alrite? We'll be workin' with some guys from the state for a while now, closing the case up. " - Hopper told you sincerely and you hummed, crying again. - “The boy has a funeral tomorrow. I feel like this is on me, you know? Everyone was believin' that Jim fuckin' Hopper, the New York detective, will find the Byers boy alive and well... It's my fault."

"This doesn't mean you're a bad cop, Jim, okay?" - You asked him after a while when you made yourself calm down. - "This doesn't mean you suck at your job, baby. Don't put yourself down, you're a great cop and even a better person. The boy... It isn't your fault. I swear. We'll talk about it once I get back to Hawkins, okay?" - You asked worriedly. - "Please, send Joyce my deepest condolences. I'm..."

Hopper needed to be strong and so you needed to be strong as well. For him. You'd do everything for that man. If he would want you to go back to Hawkins immediately, you would go.

"Just keep out of Hawkins until I secure it again. If somethin' would go wrong with you, I don't think... I'm just really missin' you, sunshine." - Hopper mumbled tiredly and you understood. He needed to be alone, so you put the phone off the bed, looking at your mom. Hopper didn't cause this, but you knew he's going to put himself down horrendously after that. A boy's life was lost, but Hopper wasn't the one to blame.

But the worst thing about all of that? He hadn't called after that, not even once. You tried to occupy yourself with hikes and board games with your cousins, even playing some D&D, but there weren't any calls from Hopper from that day on. No matter how hard you wished for them, he hadn't call you. You called into the trail many times, but no-one had picked up.

That was the exact moment you had enough. If he was in danger, you wouldn't leave him like that, whether something bad happened to him or if it was his mind again.

You decided to come home earlier to check on him, which your mom agreed with. The sixteen-hours long drive with your car was horrendous, to say the least, but that very night, you stopped in front of Hopper's trail, basically storming inside. It was dark and empty, but you still hoped that Hopper left you a key under the mossy rock. It really was there.

You stopped yourself for a small moment before actually opening the door up, trying to prepare yourself for what will be inside of that trail. You almost threw up next to the stairs, opening the door finally. And for the fucking love of God, there was some serious mess inside of that trail.

You walked through it and saw at least a few tubes of Tuinal, each one of them empty, remnants of various fast food, beer cans, and full ashtrays literally everywhere. The furniture was messed up, the phone ripped out of the wall, TV laying on the side. The place looked robbed and for a moment, you got really, really worried.

Hopper wasn't nowhere to be found, so the last thing you could do was to sit and wait for him. While doing so, you decided to clean it up and cook some actual food. Before moving the furniture back in place, you checked the drawers, not finding his personal gun. Where was he and why did he take the gun with him?

He drove in pretty late in the night, it was almost midnight; you took a nap on the couch in the meantime, being dead asleep by the time he turned the engine off.

Hopper was thinking that he's hallucinating when he saw your car parked directly on its spot, but then he saw the turn on the light and you passed out in front of the TV through the window.

He took a deep breath in - he just came back from the Hawkins lab, closing another deal with them including Joyce and WIll, and he needed to think about what should he tell you. He wasn't willing to try his chances with telling you the truth; as he said, he wouldn't put you in danger under any circumstances and the men from the government weren't fucking around with anyone. He needed to come up with a story that would be believable and easy to swallow, but at the moment, he was just too tired to think of one. Jim slowly entered the trail, taking the coat off, putting it on a rack, trying not to wake you up yet. 

You were beautiful when you fell asleep - your cheeks got rosy, you snuggled deep into the blanket, having a dreamy emotion on your face. He kneeled behind the couch, kissing your temple and smoothing your hair, gently waking you up.

"You're here sooner." - Jim whispered with a smile when you opened up your eyes. He just needed you by his side, no matter what anyone in Hawkins is going to say. Fuck them and fuck the rumors. It was safe now, you were his girl and everyone else could go fuck themselves.

"And you stopped calling. I was worried." - You mumbled, nuzzling closer to his hand, reaching out to hold the other one. - "Where were you? It's really late."

"Was visiting Joyce's, she needed someone to talk to. I would be here sooner if you'd give me heads up." - Hopper kissed your temple again, helping you with standing up. He watched one of those lazy smiles.

"How's she? Feeling better after Will..." - You whispered in a broken voice. Oh. Hopper realized that you still thought that Will has drowned in the quarry. He hadn't got exactly the time to call you since he was held at the lab of driving around Hawkins with children in his Blazer most of the time.

"The boy was found alive, thanks to God. He's in the hospital and he's gettin' better and better with each passin' day. He's a fighter." - Jim said quietly and tried not to put too much emotion into it, but you knew that it's making him happy. He led you through the whole trail, kissing your collar bone though the fabric of the shirt once you were standing up in the bedroom. - "I've missed you so fuckin' much." - The man moaned into the fabric of his very own shirt and just when he was about to lay you down, you stopped him and palmed his jaws, making the man look at you.

"I'm proud of you, Jim Hopper." - You said quietly with an adoring look in your eyes. Hopper would swear that he hasn't seen so much awe and love in someone's eyes until you gave him this look. - "You are a great man. And I can't imagine being in Hawkins without you." - You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss.

You gave him many kisses, but this one was somehow full of feelings and Jim warmed up when he felt the love radiating out of it. For a while, the thought of him saying those three words was lingering on his mind as you took off the shirt, pressing your naked torso into the fabric of his uniform.

It would be so easy to say them. Every time he called you to Dakota, you were there and listened to every word; you laughed when you were supposed to laugh and you were sad when you were supposed to be sad. To say that he found everything he asked for was just too little to express everything about you.

You continued with kissing him, not leaving him alone in that freezing night for a single second. Nothing felt better than having you back and at that moment, he first realized that he's in love with you. It never crossed his mind so clearly. He was deeply in love. But he didn't want to ruin the moment, so he helped you with taking your pants down.

It didn't matter how smelly he was, it didn't matter that he had a huge bruise on his arm, the only thing that mattered was it was him. That it was him staying there with you.

And you realized how much you've fallen for that guy. It was the best feeling you've ever felt.

#jim hopper imagine #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #james jim hopper #jim hopper stranger things #stranger things hopper #stranger things netflix #stranger things #sriracha

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 2 ~Homeward Bound~

“For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.”

2015

He cocked his head to listen if anyone was in the corridor. Satisfied nobody was about, he cautiously snuck into Claire's old bedroom and shut the door firmly behind him. After carefully placing a vase of forget-me-not flowers on the desk, Jamie noticed not much had changed in her room since she left Lallybroch. On one wall was a massive poster of the world map, on the wooden beam above, hung an assortment of dreamcatchers, and on her bed was a collection of stuff toys he had given her over the years. After a brief glance at the bookshelves filled with classic literature and travel books, his eyes wandered to her dressing table. Slotted in the frames of the mirror were a collection of photos, and they were mostly of him, William and Jenny. He smiled as he peeked at each snapshot, conjuring memories from their childhood. He wished he had a more recent photo of her, but that was one thing Claire never granted him as she was never keen to have her picture taken. Although she was active on social media, most of her posts were images of places she had visited, wildlife, food and the odd time her feet, to show off her new trekking shoes.

Over the years, he thought of her often even in times when he was in relationships. How could he stop thinking of her when Claire would faithfully send postcards, cards during special occasions and made-up occasions, and also ridiculous souvenirs that served no purpose except to clutter his apartment. But he kept every damn thing she had ever sent him. In return, he would send her favourite hardback books with forget-me-not flowers pressed into the pages and occasionally a bottle of single malt whisky so she wouldn't miss home too much. 

Every Christmas and a couple of weeks in summer, Claire would come to visit Lallybroch, but Jamie was never there to see her, for the most part, because those times were his busiest at work in France. And whenever he came home, either she was studying in Switzerland, or she was on some adventure with her backpack in some faraway places. Once, only once they had an opportunity to meet in London airport for their connecting flights when she was bound for Scotland, and he was returning to France. Even that chance meeting went awry when Jamie's flight was delayed departing Edinburgh. But today she was coming home, and it would be the first time they will see each other in six years. This time she was staying for good and so was he. 

..........

"God ah hate regional trains! Are we nearly there yet?" Geillis muttered as she slumped on her seat and stretched her legs in front of her. They have been travelling on the train from London for four hours already. "Remind me again why we took the train instead of flying."

Claire closed her book and sighed at her friend. "If we had booked a flight, we would have had to wait for two more days, and I can't wait that long. All the cheap flights were fully booked, and I wasn't prepared to pay a few extra hundred pounds to fly from city to city. I know how you're feeling, Geillis... I can hardly wait to get there myself. I'm even finding it hard to concentrate on reading, thinking of seeing my family again. God, I've missed them." Looking at her watch, she smiled. "Not long to go now... an hour and a half... more or less." 

In actual fact, she had been thinking of Frank for the most part of the journey, and the thought of him made her stomach do somersaults. Claire had seen him the summer before when she came to visit Lallybroch, and she couldn't forget the appreciative look he had given her way when they met at the local pub. He seemed surprised as if he was seeing her for the very first time. And if her instinct is anything to go by, Claire believed Frank loved what he saw.

"What's with the secret smile, Claire? Is it Frank?" Geillis cheeks dimpled as her lips curled into a puckish smile.

Claire grinned. "You know me too well. Yes, alright yes I've been thinking about him, but I'm also thrilled to be seeing my family again, especially Jamie...I haven't seen him for years. God, I've missed him." She paused as she summoned memories from the past before continuing. "Just between the two of us, Jamie is my favourite out of the three siblings. I love them all, but Jamie is the best. Maybe because we're closest in age and we get along so well. As for Jenny, she used to fuss over me a lot, and when I got older, it became annoying. Well, Willie is great too, but he was always so grown up. He rarely played with me when I was little, but in my teens, he spent more time with me when ma and da were busy in the hotel. On weekends he used to take Jamie and me to movies and such, while Jenny was more interested in staying at home and pottering about. "

Thinking back to her childhood memories, the Fraser family was the greatest gift her uncle Lamb had ever given her. Although Claire felt like an outsider in her school and was often taunted for being English, the love her foster family had for her outweighed the heartaches. Her happiest memories were within Lallybroch and days spent with the Frasers. Even though she lost her parents at such a young age and then later, her uncle Lamb, in her heart and in her mind, despite what her schoolmates made her feel, she was never an orphan.

"Here, hand me yer IPad. Ah want tae see pictures of your folk again, sae ah ken who is who."

Claire shifted seats next to Geillis, and opening her IPad, she tapped into the gallery icon. After a few swipes on the screen, she found what she was looking for. "This one here is the last photo of all of us together under one roof. This was taken before Jamie went to a culinary college in France. I was sixteen here. Willie here was on holiday from his training as a chef in Italy. And Jenny, she's the only one who stayed at home. She never had any interest in the hotel, restaurant or further studies. Though she did go to University in Edinburgh to study Business Management. Da said she was born to be a housewife because she loved running the household and cooking." 

"So you're the youngest? You look sae different in this photo...maybe it's the glasses ye were wearing and your hair was shorter."

"Yes, I'm the youngest. Jamie is now 25, Jenny 28 and Willie is 30. I was the baby then and was spoiled rotten when I first came to Lallybroch. Yea, I got rid of the specs after ma convinced me to wear contact lenses because I kept losing them or breaking them. As for my hair, I realised the curls aren't as wild if I kept my hair longer. I hated my hair back then and wished I had Jenny's straight hair. " Claire swiped past more pictures to a more recent one. "This one is from last year, just the Fraser kids."

"Holy mammy of God, are these Jamie an' Willie? They're sae tall an' Jenny is sae wee. Mmm such good looking lads if ah may say sae."

Claire laughed. "I don't know why Jenny is so small. Everyone else in the family is tall, even ma. Jenny and Willie take more after da with their dark hair and blue eyes. As you can see here, Jamie looks more like ma... he's ginger just like you, but he does have his father's eyes."

"Mmm...Jamie looks scrumptious, and he's more buff than Willie. Is he single? You wouldna mind if ah tried tae angle for a date? Unless of course, ye want him for yersel'"

"Don't be daft! He's my brother...and if he falls for you and ends up marrying you, it's like we're going to be sisters. Now wouldn't that be fab? And yes, he's definitely single. He broke up with his French girlfriend a few months back. He never really liked to discuss his relationships with me, and all I know is that he reckons Frenchie wasn't the right girl for him."

Claire loved Jamie with all her heart, and she had time and again reminded him that he will always be her best friend. He had consistently made her feel special, especially on the night when Frank cancelled their dance date when she was fifteen. He had planned to go with his friends after the dance, but instead, he went with her and Willie, stopping by a gas station to buy a tub of her favourite vanilla ice cream. When they arrived home, they both tucked into their treat sitting on the outside balcony, wrapped in a blanket and looking at the stars. Claire always loved looking at the stars, and she thought it was the most beautiful thing. Then she remembered him saying to her softly as he fed her a spoon of ice cream, "Next time you think of beautiful things, don't forget to count yourself in." 

"So does Jamie have a type?" Geillis asked as she enlarged a photo of Jamie on Claire's IPad.

"Funny you ask that. He always told me he prefers brunettes, but his past two girlfriends were blondes. Blokes are funny that way, aren't they? They say one thing and do another, and yet Jamie always told me women are the most complicated creatures. Tsk, men!"

Geillis closed the IPad and handed it back to Claire. "Weel 'tis braw tae be back in Scotland an' I'm sae glad ah will be workin' wi' ye and yer family. How is yer da tae work for?" Geillis asked, straightening up from her seat to rummage for some snacks in her satchel.

"Oh, da is great, you will love him. I spent summer as a kid doing odd jobs at the hotel...helping in the kitchen, in housekeeping and such. I enjoyed it so much that I proceeded to study Hotel Management instead of nursing."

Claire and Geillis met while fulfilling their apprenticeship in a five-star hotel in Munich, Germany. Once their training came to an end, Geillis had planned to apply for a job in New York hoping Claire would follow suit. But Claire declined as she had promised Brian, her foster father, she would come back to work for Fraser Manor Inn once her studies and training were over. As Geillis was intrigued by the Frasers' hotel and wanted to be closer to her friend, instead of going to New York, she applied for the Front Office position with the help and recommendation from Claire, which Brian Fraser accepted.

Jamie and Willie have returned home to Lallybroch a few months back to help with the preparations for the Grand Opening after the hotel went through a major restoration. It was a pact they all made that they would one day return home to work for the family business. Claire had, at first, wanted to travel to Mexico after her apprenticeship had ended. But since the Grand Opening of the hotel is imminent, she decided to come home earlier than planned.

Fraser Manor Inn, having only thirty rooms, is not by any standard grand but more traditional of the Highlands. The pièce de résistance  of the hotel was the restaurant, and the food was very sought after for its exceptionally high standard in taste, presentation and creativity, promoting Scottish fresh and local produce. The head chef Murtagh Fraser, god-father to all Fraser children had earned the restaurant a Michelin three stars; hence, his cantankerous manner was put up by Brian and Ellen. Working alongside Murtagh in the kitchen would be the Fraser boys; William as the Sous-Chef and Jamie as Chef de Pâtissier.

"Weel, I'll give it a go for a year, and I hope yer da will give me a fantastic certificate tae add tae my resume. When does the hotel re-open?"

"Hopefully before Christmas. So you'll have plenty of time to familiarise yourself with the locals and local delights. Da says you can stay in Lallybroch until you find your own place. Otherwise, he has a couple of apartments for rent...normally he rents them out to staff. It's supposed to be for one of us in case we tire of living in Lallybroch."

"Oh good, plenty of time to get to know the local boys before we start work. Or let's say, plenty of time to get to know yer brothers, " Geillis said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

..........

Jamie and Willie were standing on the platform, waiting for the train to come to a halt and for Jamie, it seemed to take eternally before the screeching and clunking on the beaten old track ceased. The air felt nippy, and although it was only mid-afternoon, it was quickly turning dark. It was a perfect homecoming for Claire, Jamie thought, as autumn was her favourite season. He smiled to himself as he thought of Jenny and his mother preparing Claire's favourite meal of Beef Wellington, thick gravy, roast potatoes and vegetables. Willie had offered to cook, suggesting a more elegant dish, but the Fraser women had shooed him away. Earlier in the day, while nobody was in, Jamie snuck in the kitchen and made Claire's favourite dessert of Raspberry Mille Feuille and Sherry Trifle much to Jenny's annoyance. He had to make it as it was the only request Claire had of him when he asked what she wanted when she came home.

The whoosh of the sliding doors of the train carriages brought Jamie back to the present. As his older brother started to move forward, he followed, looking up and down the platform for a ginger-haired lassie and a curly-haired brunette. There were plenty of people disembarking eager to get off, and others, keen to get on board and out of the cold. The brothers strained their necks watching out for the girls, and it was Willie who saw them first.

"Claire! Over here!" Willie shouted as he started to jog forward.

"Oh my God, Willie...I'm finally home! So good to see you!" Claire squealed as she flung herself to his older brother's arms, while the ginger-haired lass stood back and observed the scene with amusement.

Jamie waited patiently, not wanting to disturb their moment as he leaned on a pillar watching the scene before him. He watched her squeal some more and giggle as Claire introduced Willie to her friend Geillis, babbling and swinging her rucksack onto her back as she went along.   Ah Dhia, she's more beautiful than ever.  Gone was the awkward and shy teenage girl he remembered but instead there stood a bubbly gorgeous young woman full of self-confidence and most importantly, happy to be home.

"Where's Jamie? I thought ma said he was coming with you." Claire asked, looking slightly disappointed.

"Right here, Sassenach," he replied, stepping away from the shadows and opening his arms for an imminent embrace.

She spun around to the direction of his voice, her eyes widening in surprise before her face broke into a most stunning smile he'd ever seen. Gone were her braces and in place were perfectly even teeth. "Jamie!!!" Claire wasted no time and ran up to him.

Jamie lifted her and hugged her tightly as they both laughed and spoke at the same time, of how they missed each other. Jamie didn't let go, and Claire wrapped her legs around his waist to keep her balance, as she rained loud kisses on his cheek. "Fancy a piggyback for ol' times sake?" Jamie suggested, grinning.

Claire nodded her head animatedly, her smile never leaving her face.

Without much effort, Jamie grabbed her hips and shifted her to his back without her feet touching the ground. Once she was safely behind him, her arms around his neck and legs around his middle, Jamie grabbed Claire's duffel back and turned around to his brother. "I'll race ye to the car!" Jamie shouted as he ran off.

Willie laughed at their carry on as he watched Jamie zig-zagged on the platform, Claire's laughter echoing in the air while Geillis face was one of astonishment. "Don't mind them, they've always been like that..." Willie confessed, shaking his head as he chuckled to himself.

"Brother my arse...he's got the hots for her," Geillis muttered to herself, as she watched Jamie and Claire disappeared into the crowd.

"Pardon me...you were saying?" Willie turned to pick up the rest of the bags as he smiled at Geillis.

"Nothing."

"I don't want to race Jamie to the car, but you can tell me how your trip was from London..."

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

[nazariolahela]

Something Domestic: Chapter 3

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a new TRR AU I’ve been working on. This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow​ @aworldoffandoms​ @dcbbw​ @ladyangel70​ @texaskitten30​ @sunandlemons​ @jlynn12273​ @indiacater​ @jared2612​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @drakesensworld​ @badchoicesposts​

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Riley and Hana discuss the new changes in their lives.

As the cab pulls up outside of Nomade, I spot Hana leaning up against the side of the building. She’s dressed in black leggings and a denim jacket over a purple A-Line tunic. Her brown hair is twisted in a side braid that rests on her left shoulder. Tendrils fall across her face as she taps on her phone screen. Looking at the door to the restaurant, I notice there’s no line. That’s good for a Friday afternoon, considering people line up around the block to eat here.

Hana and I prefer the lunch menu because it’s cheaper and less crowded. The one time we came here for dinner, we had to wait two and a half hours for a table, and our tab was almost $300. I tip the driver and exit the cab, bounding across the sidewalk to my roommate and best friend. She giggles as she sees me and scoops me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Hey, girl! You’ll never guess who just emailed me!”

“Who?” I ask. Her parents Xinghai and Lorelai are well-known in the New York social scene, so it could literally be anyone.

“I’ll tell you when we get inside,” she says and links her arm through mine as we make our way into the restaurant. Typical Hana. Always keeping people in suspense. When we reach the host station, her phone buzzes. She quickly pulls it out of her purse and glances at it, rolls her eyes, then shoves it back in her purse.

“What was that all about?” I eye her.

She sighs. “Oh, just some weirdo my parents are trying to set me up with. Neville Vancoeur or something,” she waves her hand dismissively. “My mother gave me her famous ‘When are you going to settle down, Hana? You’re not getting any younger and I want grandchildren,’ spiel last week, so now they’re aggressively playing matchmaker.”

Hana and I met freshman year at NYU Steinhardt. With both of us being education majors, we ended up having a lot of classes together and spent way too many late nights cramming during our study sessions in the library. After graduation, we both realized rent in this city is impossible to afford if you’re not a Rockefeller, so we rented an apartment together and have been roomies ever since. Hana got a job student-teaching music at Stormholt Middle School, and she also gives piano lessons one Saturday a month to a rich family in the city.

Her parents are something else. I’ve only met them once, but they make me glad I don’t have much of a relationship with mine. They feel she’s better suited to be a wife and a mother than an educator. It makes me angry for her because she’s so much more than that. She doesn’t need to marry some stuffy guy who probably skated his way through business school on daddy’s money and pop out his crotch goblins to do something meaningful with her life. She’s also mentioned to me many times that she’s into girls, so all this effort to set her up with some preppy trust-fund douche from East Hampton is a waste. Jokes on you Mom and Dad Lee.

I giggle as the hostess arrives from seating another customer. “Good afternoon, ladies. Table for two?”

We answer and she grabs two menus before motioning for us to follow her. When we arrive at our table, she informs us our server will be with us shortly and walks away. 

“Okay, so tell me who emailed you,” I say to her as I unroll my napkin and place it in my lap. She looks up at me, her eyes beaming. 

“Do you remember that benefit dinner we went to a few months ago? You know, the one for New York educators, where we drank our weight in Lemon Drop martinis?”

I smirk recalling that evening. The bits and pieces I remember, Hana lost one of her shoes and spent the better part of the evening showing everyone on the dancefloor the “proper way” to perform a pirouette.

“Well, I do remember you taking over the dance floor and me going home with that cute bartender. What was his name again? Daniel?”

“Oh my god!” she replies, laughing and slapping my forearm. “I can’t believe you don’t remember his name!”

We giggle as our server approaches our table to take our drink orders. I order a glass of white wine and Hana orders a Sangria. When the server leaves, we resume our conversation.

“So anyway,” she continues, “that night, I was talking to one of the ladies who works in the music department at Valtoria High School, and apparently there were rumors their music teacher was planning to retire. So, after we exchanged information, she passed it along to the school board, and they just emailed me asking me if I was interested in a job!”

My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. “And?”

“And...I think I’m going to take it!”

I jump up from my seat and move around the table to wrap her in a hug. “Oh my God, Hana! That’s amazing!”  She laughs as I give her a congratulatory squeeze. Hana has been trying to get a position with Valtoria High since we graduated. It has one of the top music programs in the city, and the waitlist is insanely long. Most of the teachers there have tenure, so not many positions open up unless someone quits, retires, or dies. Hana securing a position on the teaching staff will not only get her parents off her back but also open up so many doors for her. Her dream is to eventually start her own music school where she can teach music to kids of all social and economic statuses. 

We return to our seats as our drinks arrive and the waitress takes our lunch order. After she leaves, Hana turns to me. “So, enough about me. Tell me about the new nanny job.”

I smile. “The interview went really well. I met the family I’ll be working for. They seem really nice and I’m excited to get the opportunity to work with them. My first day with them is Monday. The pay is pretty great, plus, the children seem very well-behaved. Nothing like the last family I worked for. The mother comes off a bit cold, but she seems pretty easy to work for. At least I don’t have to worry about her micromanaging everything I do.”

“Uh-huh. And what about the father?” 

I whip out my phone and google “Liam Rhys” to show her a picture of him. After scrolling past links to his company and click-baity articles from the local tabloids, I pull up a photo of him and his older brother from a few years ago. I hand the phone to her. She glances at it, her eyes wide.

“Oh wow...Riley… That’s Liam Rhys,” she says, warily.

“Yeah. What about it?”

She shakes her head and hands the phone back to me. “Nothing, it’s just his family is very well known throughout the city, as well as in the tabloids. Not to mention, he’s extremely attractive, so you need to be careful.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you trying to say, Hana?”

Her face turns serious. “You’re a wonderful person, Riley. I read those tabloids, and I see what they say about the nannies of public figures like him. I don’t want your name dragged through the mud because you were photographed staring too hard at Liam.”

“It will be fine, Hana. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I remember what happened with Ben Affleck’s nanny. And Gavin Rossdale’s nanny. And Jude Law’s nanny”

“Those men were also sleeping with their nannies while they were still married. Even if it gets that far, he’s getting divorced. We wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.”

“The public won’t see it that way. They’ll blame you for the split. Just be careful.”

I nod, taking her words seriously. Our waitress returns with our meals and we dig in. We spend the rest of the meal gossiping about our friends from college; who’s working where, who’s getting married, who got arrested, and so forth. After the check arrives, we pay our tabs and gather our things to head out. As we exited the restaurant, Hana turns to me and grabs my arm turning my body toward hers.

“Hey. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need anything. Please don’t forget that.” 

I smiled and wrap her in a hug. “I know. Don’t think that I won’t take your words to heart. I know what I’m getting myself into with the Rhys family, and I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Of course, that’s what besties do.” Her phone chimes inside her purse. She releases me and reaches into her purse to retrieve it. She frowns then slides it back into her purse. “I’d ask you if you wanted to head over to The Double Tappe for a drink, but my mom wants me to come over. I’ll see you back at the apartment?”

“You bet. I think I’m going to head over to the Northbridge Mall and buy some new outfits for my new job.”

She laughs and wraps me up in another hug. “‘Kay. Call me later,” she says before turning and walking down the sidewalk. I wave goodbye and take off in the opposite direction. As I stroll down the street, I walk past a magazine stand. There on the rack is the latest issue of Trend the receptionist was reading earlier. I pull a $5 from my purse, and set it on the counter, before picking up a copy of the magazine. After thanking the cashier, I slip the magazine in my bag and continue walking until I reach the bus stop on the corner. When the bus arrives, I step on, flash my Transit Pass, and take a seat near the front. I settle in and pull the magazine out to read up on my new employers.  

The article shows pictures of Liam, Madeleine, and the kids at the park. The kids look adorable playing with their father and each other. Madeleine is sitting on a bench, her nose in her phone, wearing her usual resting bitch face. I swear, that woman never smiles. Then, there’s Liam. The butterflies in my stomach start fluttering at the sight of him playing with his children. The cutlines on the photos mention how happy he looks to be spending the day away from work with his kids, but I don’t need to read it. I can see it in his face. 

Despite his notoriety here in New York, he’s still a man that is devoted to his family. It’s a shame his soon-to-be ex-wife, couldn’t see that. Stop it, Riley. Their relationship is none of your business. But it is, though. Now that I’m working for their family, their business is my business. Which means I have to keep my mouth shut about what happens behind closed doors. I’d hate to lose my job because I told someone something, who told someone else, who leaked it to the press.

I read on and catch myself staring at the pictures of him. It’s unfair how good looking he is. The fact that he is a doting dad makes him that much sexier. My cheeks flush as I imagine sitting at the park with him and the children. In my fantasy, I’m sitting on a picnic blanket, a wicker basket full of snacks and drinks, while he chases Philip and Charlotte around the grass. After they tire themselves out, they wander over and I pass out juice boxes and crackers. Liam comes up behind them, smiling. When he reaches me, he kneels on the blanket, takes me in his arms, and presses the most sensual kiss to my lips. 

The squealing of the bus’s breaks rips me from my little daydream and I shove the magazine in my purse. Nope. Not going there. I exhale loudly and stare out the window as the bus continues down the street. Oh man, I’m in big trouble.

#trr au #trr fanfic #liam rhys #madeleine karlington #riley brooks #the royal romance #playchoices fanfic #something domestic #nanny au #nazariolahela fanfic

[bohemianrhapsody86]

200 Things About Me (originally 200 Things You Can Put In My Ask)

I got this off of @rami-malek-trash - don’t know who the original poster was, sorry if it’s you. I’m bored and cramping and no one usually sends me asks anyway, so I’m just going to answer all of these myself 

200: My crush’s name is: Drew (Now boyfriend, but he was my middle school crush) 199: I was born in: 1986 198: I am really: cool 197: My cellphone company is: T-Mobile 196: My eye color is: green 195: My shoe size is: 9.5/10 194: My ring size is: 9/10 193: My height is: 5′6″ 192: I am allergic to: Nothing 191: My 1st car was: 2001 PT Cruiser 190: My 1st job was: Server at a local pizzeria 189: Last book you read: Startalk: Everything You Ever Need to Know About Space Travel, Sci-Fi, the Human Race, the Universe, and Beyond by Neil DeGrasse Tyson 188: My bed is: Not very comfortable. I need a new mattress, but I need a job first.  187: My pet: A siamese cat named Chico. 186: My best friend: Amanda  185: My favorite shampoo is: I like using Aussie 2-in-1, I also like using Shimmer Lights occasionally so I can keep my gray hairs nice and shiny.  184: Xbox or ps3: PS3 183: Piggy banks are: Cool. I have one that counts my change lol 182: In my pockets: Nothing because they hate putting usable pockets in women’s pants.  181: On my calendar: I marked where I started my period yesterday, and my boyfriends 32nd birthday is next Tuesday.  180: Marriage is: Something I want everyone to have the option for if they want it. 179: Spongebob can: use his imagination 178: My mom: is amazing! 177: The last three songs I bought were? Cool and Sucker by The Jonas Brothers, Don’t really buy many singles, just albums if I’m interested and their cheap.  176: Last YouTube video watched: Brooke Candy - Paper or Plastic 175: How many cousins do you have? Too many to remember 174: Do you have any siblings? Yes, an older brother and older half-sister. 173: Are your parents divorced? Yes, they divorced back in 1999 172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes. We used to be the same height, but gravity has taken a hold of her and squashed her down.  171: Do you play an instrument? I used to play the trombone in middle school, but that was 20 years ago. I’m sure if I ever got my hands on one again, I might remember a scale or two.  170: What did you do yesterday? Went around town job hunting and then bought a maxi dress at a local craft store.  [ I Believe In ] 169: Love at first sight:Yes 168: Luck: Yes 167: Fate: Yes 166: Yourself: Sometimes 165: Aliens: Yes 164: Heaven: Yes and No 163: Hell: We live there now. 162: God: No 161: Horoscopes: Yes 160: Soul mates: Yes 159: Ghosts: Yes 158: Gay Marriage: Yes 157: War: No 156: Orbs: Yes/No 155: Magic: Yes [ This or That ] 154: Hugs or Kisses: Kisses 153: Drunk or High: High  152: Phone or Online: Online 151: Red heads or Black haired: Black haired 150: Blondes or Brunettes: Brunette 149: Hot or cold: Cold 148: Summer or winter: Winter 147: Autumn or Spring: Autumn 146: Chocolate or vanilla:Chocolate 145: Night or Day: Night 144: Oranges or Apples: Apples 143: Curly or Straight hair: Curly 142: McDonalds or Burger King: McDonalds 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: Milk Chocolate 140: Mac or PC: PC 139: Flip flops or high heals: Flip Flops 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: Sweet and Poor 137: Coke or Pepsi: Always been a Pepsi girl 136: Hillary or Obama: Obama 135: Burried or cremated: Cremated and turned into a tree or my ashes made into a vinyl 134: Singing or Dancing: Singing 133: Coach or Chanel: Neither 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Katherine McPhee 131: Small town or Big city: Small Town 130: Wal-Mart or Target: Target 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Ben Stiller 128: Manicure or Pedicure: Mani 127: East Coast or West Coast: East Coast - never been to the West Coast 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Birthday because it sometimes falls on Thanksgiving.  125: Chocolate or Flowers: Chocolate 124: Disney or Six Flags: Disney 123: Yankees or Red Sox: Neither, Cubbies til the day I die.  [ Here’s What I Think About ] 122: War: Pointless 121: George Bush: Better than the asshat in office now. 120: Gay Marriage: If I can get married to my boyfriend, the my friend Jerry should be able to get married to his boyfriend, Josh.  119: The presidential election: I hate that orange buffoon.  118: Abortion: I’m pro-choice.  117: MySpace: Always had trouble figuring out my Top 8 and what background I wanted to use.  116: Reality TV: Only thing I really watch are cooking competitions. Those are the only ones that matter. Not a fan of the Kardashians or the Bachelor/ette bullcrap.  115: Parents: My mom is amazing, my ‘dad’ was never really there.  114: Back stabbers: Asshats 113: Ebay: Hardly use it.  112: Facebook: Good to stay in touch with people you want to/some of the groups on there are awesome.  111: Work: Don’t have a job as of yet. *keeps fingers crossed I hear back from someone soon* 110: My Neighbors: Loud AF and nasty. I live in an apartment and the neighbors upstairs have so many kids and animals up there it’s ridiculous. I wish they’d leave.  109: Gas Prices: Ridiculous, but not as bad as I’ve seen it before.  108: Designer Clothes: Meh, not my style unless I find something in my size at Goodwill.  107: College: Been there, done that. Not really for me. Never graduated.  106: Sports: I like watching them, mainly baseball and basketball. The NFL can go fuck themselves.  105: My family: Love my blood relatives and my chosen family.  104: The future: It’s so bright, I gotta wear shades.  [ Last time I ] 103: Hugged someone: last night when my boyfriend came over and brought me my phone charger.  102: Last time you ate: An hour ago. 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: At my bestie’s baby shower.  100: Cried in front of someone: Sometime last week 99: Went to a movie theater: When Endgame came out 98: Took a vacation: 2010 97: Swam in a pool: A few summers ago 96: Changed a diaper: 2007? 95: Got my nails done: 2007? 94: Went to a wedding: 1999 93: Broke a bone: Never *keeps fingers crossed* 92: Got a peircing: 2012? 91: Broke the law: I probably broke the speed limit yesterday at some point.  90: Texted: about 2am this morning.  [ MISC ] 89: Who makes you laugh the most: My bestie Amanda and boyfriend Drew 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cat. 87: The last movie I saw: Ant-Man  86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: getting a job 85: The thing im not looking forward to: Interviewing for a job 84: People call me: loyal 83: The most difficult thing to do is: finding a job 82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: Yep, 77 in a 55. 81: My zodiac sign is: Sun - Sagittarius, Moon - Leo

80: The first person i talked to today was: If you count texting my boyfriend at 2am, then him.  79: First time you had a crush: Sometime in Elemetary School.  78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my mom 77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: yesterday 76: Right now I am talking to: myself 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: I have no clue 74: I have/will get a job: soon 73: Tomorrow: Never Comes 72: Today: Is the day 71: Next Summer: Not here 70: Next Weekend: I have no clue 69: I have these pets: 12 year old 17 lb cat named Striper.  68: The worst sound in the world: My cat hacking up a hairball.  67: The person that makes me cry the most is: myself 66: People that make you happy: my mom, brother, sister-in-law, boyfriend, best friend. 65: Last time I cried: sometime last week 64: My friends are: amazing 63: My computer is: pretty cool and loaded up with Sims stuff.  62: My School: I don’t go to school anymore.  61: My Car: gets me there.  60: I lose all respect for people who: disrespect me or my loved one.  59: The movie I cried at was: Endgame 58: Your hair color is: salt & pepper 57: TV shows you watch: Legends of Tomorrow, Worst Cooks in America, Any cooking show really.  56: Favorite web site: Tumblr 55: Your dream vacation: Somewhere away from my town 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: when I had that ovarian cyst. 53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium 52: My room is: messy 51: My favorite celebrity is: too many to list  50: Where would you like to be: in bed 49: Do you want children: nope 48: Ever been in love: yes 47: Who’s your best friend: Amanda 46: More guy friends or girl friends: About the same.  45: One thing that makes you feel great is: music 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: my grandma 43: Do you have a 5 year plan: I don’t even have a 5 minute plan 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: Kinda, not really 41: Have you pre-named your children: Nope 40: Last person I got mad at: The Dump, but that’s a daily thing.  39: I would like to move to: out of the US 38: I wish I was a professional: crocheter/crafter [ My Favorites ] 37: Candy: Butterfinger Cups 36: Vehicle: Don’t really have one 35: President: Barack Obama 34: State visited: Pennsylvania 33: Cellphone provider: Always been with T-Mobile 32: Athlete: Anthony Rizzo 31: Actor: Tom Hanks 30: Actress: Sandra Bullock 29: Singer: Freddie Mercury 28: Band: Queen 27: Clothing store: Lane Bryant 26: Grocery store: Aldi 25: TV show: Don’t really have one 24: Movie: Too many to count 23: Website: This black hole of a site 22: Animal: Cat 21: Theme park: Don’t really have one. I did enjoy Six Flags over Georgia when I went back in 2002. Dollywood is always fun but it’s been even longer than that since I’ve been there.  20: Holiday: Halloween 19: Sport to watch: Baseball 18: Sport to play: Nothing.  17: Magazine: Entertainment Weekly 16: Book: Harry Potter 15: Day of the week: Thursday 14: Beach: Virginia Beach 13: Concert attended: Jonas Brothers in VA Beach 12: Thing to cook: bacon 11: Food: bacon 10: Restaurant: Hmmm....don’t know that one.  9: Radio station: Classic Hits 102.7...hardly any commercials and they tell you the artist and song title after every song. 70s, 80s, and 90s songs.  8: Yankee candle scent: Don’t have one 7: Perfume: The scented oils from a local curiosity shop have some of my fave scents.  6: Flower: Iris 5: Color: Blue 4: Talk show host: Jimmy Fallon 3: Comedian: I’ve got several 2: Dog breed: Corgi 1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Yes.    

#personal #200 things about me #bored #cramping #I need some sleep but can't sleep #period brain

[realitv]

EPISODE EIGHT REWRITES: MOON SHADOW.

i really hate the writers. do u know that. anyway media and world really did war of the worlds together!!! media did that as a gift for world! i don’t really need to rewrite that bc honestly? it was Peak Media and the symbolism of world speaking over them? GOOD FOOD. we’re not implicating salim in this either idk what the fuck that was about anyway i hate about 90% of this season bye

  SILENCE. HEAVY AND OPPRESSIVE: shadows dragging down against neon-silhouette figures comprised of sharp lines and sharper intentions: biting angles and terrifying REALISM. Fear is real: and that is what the nation believes in. That is what the world believes in. The Mass Media backlit: plasma eyes glowing in the dark -- they are missing a piece in this equation; tinted blue in the strange light and their hands still across the war table; hovering over pieces and informants. YOU ARE IN DANGER OF BEING CANCELLED. It’s a threat that hangs in the air and The World’s hand drags; a shadow covering their own before it falls atop theirs like a gavel. ARE YOU PREPARED? And then there were three. Two pairs of impassive eyes resting upon a child that barely understood what it was to be a God.  Social Media shifts: a litany of cameras upon her and it’s not a livestream, not an Instagram story, not something she is in control of. Under the watchful eye of The Media, many things become glaringly transparent. I’VE DONE MY BEST. FORUMS, THEORIES, STATUSES. IT’S SPREADING, BUT IT’S SLOW. -- YOUR BEST IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Red lips unfurling into a too-wide smile and their acrylic teeth gleam coldly in the light: hunger was a companion long before anything else was made known to them. “I told you that this was the big leagues, kid. What is there to repeat when I have not spoken yet?” WHAT IS THE WORLD WITHOUT ITS VOX POPULI, VOX DEI?   “The people believe what they want to believe. They believe what I say is true and it becomes true. This story, this script, was never anyone’s but ours. It is time that they remembered that.” Cameras panning: attention subverted and their gaze meets The World unflinchingly. An unspoken agreement: a contract over a century old and once more, their smiles mirror each other. The hand of The World can be generous; fingertips skimming the curve of their jaw and their eyes glitter with that same cavernous hunger that plagues the other. MEDIA, TAKE A WALK. 

  BREAKING NEWS: SUSPECTS WANTED IN RELATION TO STATION MASSACRE EARLIER THIS YEAR. At home at last: back where they belong in front of their eyes and when The Mass Media smiles, it is terrible. It is RADIANT: something that says ‘MOMMY IS HOME!’ Back in front of their eyes and suddenly the world is not so small, the network not so dead. Hands passing through satellite signals and cathode rays; adjusting dials and channel surfing through CCTV footage. Everything compiled, recorded, stored: remembered. I SEE YOU. I KNOW YOU. Drone footage and what remained of Argus: all given to them. For them. A New Age sacrifice and no blood spilt: THAT WAS WHAT IT WAS TO BE NEW AGAIN. I see you. The footage freezes: tracks Shadow Moon and Mister Wednesday across America. The derelict Target where he had first rejected their offer, the bank they’d robbed in the snow, the grainy hotel office from STARBRITE MOTEL where they’d paid cash and signed on the dotted line for two rooms. King. Non-smoking. Dash camera footage from the cruisers, mug shots and interview room recordings; the sight of both of them running out the back door in the dark. I see you! LET’S PLAY A GAME: HOW LONG CAN YOU HIDE FROM MY ALL SEEING EYE? WINNER GETS NOTHING.    Show time. What’s the cue again? Sliding into skins as easily as clothes; pixels and plasma waves distorting waxy features, transmitting something - someone - new and their face continues to shift. A woman with a mousy bob and a watery smile. A handsome man with bleach-blond hair slicked back and caked with gel, a red-headed BOMBSHELL with a dress cut almost too low for public television, a bland man in glasses with an ill fitting suit. THESE, THE VOICES OF AMERICA. We are live in three! Two! One! BREAKING NEWS! Stock markets plummet as travellers find themselves stranded. Gas shortages are being reported all over the country. Eyes rolling back; static and test patterns flashing with their gaze and a mouth that never stopped speaking moving soundlessly; feeding scripts through earpieces and teleprompters to the masses. SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA: a fight breaks out at a Shell gas station. The pumps are not working and the radio is playing smooth jazz from the convenience store: it begins when a cyclist clubs a man trying to lift a jug of gas into his minivan; his hands shake and when he sees them covered in blood, he screams. BREAKING NEWS! Credit and debit down all over the country. Cellphone service is down with it. We are standing by for more news on the situation. SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA: a middle aged woman begins to harass a cashier in Wal-Mart: debit declining for the fifth time while Mozart’s Symphony #40 (G Minor) wafts over the loudspeaker. Manicured finger wagging in the cashier’s face: she’s a girl just trying to work her way through college. The woman throws a punch, lands square in the cashier’s jaw and forgetting company protocol, she leaps over the counter and slams her to the floor. BREAKING NEWS: WE HAVE VISUAL CONFIRMATION ON THE TWO MEN WANTED IN CONNECTION TO THE MASSACRE IN EVANSTON, ILLINOIS. DO NOT APPROACH THESE MEN FOR THEY ARE ARMED AND THEY ARE DANGEROUS. Voice rising and falling; sync’d with broadcasts and it is a hellish, ECHOING chorus of a thousand voices speaking as one. IF YOU SEE THE MEN ON YOUR SCREEN, CALL THE FBI TIP LINE IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT APPROACH THEM. WE WILL REPORT MORE AS WE LEARN MORE.   Give them time. Give them attention. They devour it whole. Screens flickering; static crackles and it sounds like laughter. YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE: WE HAVE TRACED THE MURDERERS TO CAIRO, ILLINOIS. IF YOU HAVE SEEN THESE MEN, WE ASK THAT YOU CALL THE TIP LINE OF THE CAIRO POLICE. MORE TO COME. The phones ring: pick it up and all that is heard is screaming.

  EVEN OLD GODS NEED ENTERTAINMENT: how do they feel knowing that that room was never private? Television screen flicking on and the image skips; adjusts to out-dated glass and grainy colour. BZZT-CLICK! The room filled with the synthesised tracks of local news and it is both familiar and all too-cheerful. Shadow Moon still does not believe. Still does not understand. The Mass Media shuffles their papers against a chrome desk: bleached hair perfectly curled; nothing out of place. No creases, no wrinkles: a smooth, blank and familiar slate. A smile that belongs on GOOD MORNING AMERICA. “Hello, Shadow.” Far off. Distant. Seeping through airwaves and their smile stretches painfully. “Do you remember me?” - “I don’t think he does, Marilyn.” Camera panning; a co-host to their right: a bland face in an even blander suit; a face that would be lost in the crowd. Both sets of eyes upon him: their faces blur, skip. “We’ve been on hiatus for such a long time.” - “But we’re back and ready to help serve our communities!” The screen warps, flickers. MARILYN MONROE IS READY FOR A CLOSE UP! Lacquered lips blowing a kiss and fake lashes fluttering; the subway passing by with a gust of wind. LUCILLE BALL BACK ON SET: lounging on a manufactured couch and the cigarette casts harsh shadows; that horrible stare to match that gruesome smile. All seeing. “Do you remember me now, Shadow?” A thousand dead stars laughing, a million news anchors smiling: it’s vast, it’s INFINITE: microphone reverb amplifying it tenfold. Lucille’s face streeeeetches, warps; flashing between faces ( GARLAND. BOWIE. LEIA. ROGERS. WONKA. ); settling on plain-faced suburbia with a wink. “I said this was our story, Shadow. We’d be telling it however we want: I know I’ll be satisfied with this ending. Will you?” WE ARE CURRENTLY EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. PLEASE STAND BY.

  BREATHLESS. FREEZEFRAME: still in Black Briar; everyone accounted for: they’ve no attention left for anyone but themselves. Gaze still buzzing with static; flickering through stations and test screens and their chest heaves with artificial breath they no longer need. THAT IS WHAT IT IS TO BE THE VOICE. World’s words echo. THAT IS WHAT IT IS TO BE A GOD. A wave of The World’s hand and both The Technical Boy ( VERSION WHAT? OPERATING SYSTEM WHEN? ) and Social Media ( TRENDING NEWS: MASS MEDIA TAKES AMERICA BY STORM ) leaving silently. The World’s shadow falls over them; chest to back; The Media turns into them and it’s an almost intimate closeness between them; a breath away from touching. “I hope that this has pleased you.” A pause, cameras focusing upon them. “I hope the Network Head finds it within them to renew me for another season.” Over-processed curls tipping over The World’s shoulder; eyes tracing outlines, a hand on the back of their neck, sliding down their spine. I THINK THAT CAN BE ARRANGED. Too close now; lips almost touching and they both pause; glassy stares sliding to look outwards to an audience that had always been watching. The camera holds on them: neither blink; and slowly, slowly, lips peel into identical smiles. “Transmission received.” TRANSMISSION ENDED.    The screen goes dark. 

#i never have to look at this until s3 #also click the music to be taken to whats playing during the mass panics! #📺❝ TUNE IN AT ELEVEN FOR MORE ! ( headcanons. )

[queerchoicesblog]

You Will Never Know (VoS, Kate x MC)

My second entry for the Choices November Challenge by @meeraaverywalker is a VoS fanfic. Since the prompt is unrequited love, I got inspired by a song I love, “You Will Never Know” by Imany, that I also quoted: if you wish, you can play it in the background as you read.

Prompt: Unrequited Love

Months later the Sterlings murders, Kate collects her thoughts about her feelings for her bestie, Jessie (F! MC), who stayed in Birchport and is in love with Deputy Silverhawk. Kate reminisces the past and what her friend means to her.

Word Count: 5700+

P.S. Thanks @helentwombly for proofreading this ❤️

_________________

"It breaks my heart 'cause I know you're the one for me Don't you feel sad there never was a story Obviously it never be" Kate finally reached her favourite spot. After the Sterling murders investigation was over, she followed Flynn and Naomi's advice and started seeing a therapist to help her deal with her grief and PTSD. Over the months, she had also found out that a certain spot away from the tourist area, but not too secluded (since her kidnapping, secluded locations scared the hell out of her) somehow gave her peace. The place was easily accessible yet very quiet: only the sound of seagulls and waves crashing against the rocks of the bay. Encouraged by her psychologist, Kate made an habit of going there every week to collect her thoughts. She sat there and allowed her mind to wander, in an harmless way. Today her thoughts led to Jessie. That morning they met up at the local café, "the perfect spot for a coffe-addict Newyorker", they joked. Her friend asked how she was holding up and about the baby. Then, she smiled tenderly and added shyly: "Listen Kate, I was wondering...can I be Auntie Jessie? It's just...I love the little guy so much already. I know what you're gonna say, I'm helpless around kids and it's sadly true, but I'll be a good aunt and pamper your baby, I promise". A lump formed in Kate's throat as tears welt in her eyes. She darted forward and wrapped her arms around Jessie's neck. "Of course, Ravenclaw! I thought you never asked", she squealed before her voice cracked. Jessie squeezed her tighter in her arms, and tried and fail to hold back her own tears.

Jessie didn't leave, in the end. Kate still remembered that evening when she picked up her phone and it was her. "Hello, Jessie! You okay? I thought you were-" she started, but a panting Jessie cut her short. "Kate, this is the craziest thing I've ever done. I- I got off the plane". Kate's eyes widen in surprise as relief and a secret hope found a way to her heart: "Wow, what- what made you change your mind? I mean it's great I just-". Then, hope faded away, letting some kind of bittersweet happiness take in. Jessie already took her seat on the plane, when she realised to be in the wrong place. She didn't think twice: she stood, grabbed her luggage and ran full speed down the aisle. It was something out a romantic movie. Kate just wished it was her romantic movie, her happy ending. It was not. As her chest tightened, she cleared her voice and cheered on the phone: "Oh my God, go, Jessie! Go get your girl and for your information, I'm gonna be your maid of honor! Don't you dare forget! Now run, Jessie, run!". On the other side, Jessie somehow managed one of her amused laugh and thanked her before shouting "To the police station and hurry please!" to a taxi driver. A gentle breeze from the sea started blowing, and Kate smiled weakly to herself. The old story: Jessie fell hard for Deputy Silverhawk, she fell hard for Jessie. Sure, she loved Tanner, but in a different way. Jessie was her all-time crush. Jessie never knew, though. It was deeply ironic, actually: the Pulitzer candidate reporter with a brilliant inquisitive mind and detective skills never got a clue about her bestie's feelings. Not when on her hospital bed Kate tentatively asked her "did you ever wonder why we never..." nor when back in their college days, she came out to her as bisexual at a party. At the time she hadn't told anyone yet, not even Flynn. That night she had a bit too much and blurted it out as they were leaning on the wall of the sorority club, catching their breath after dancing for what seemed like an eternity. Jessie turned to her and said in the most reassuring voice she could master up "Hey, it's okay, sweetie. And for the record, I'm lesbian...wait, I know just the thing!". She turned to face her and put a hand on her shoulder:  "Queer roomies stick together: pinky swear?". They both laughed and hooked their pinkies. Later Kate caught herself replaying that scene in her mind and dreaming of Jessie leaning closer and claiming her lips in a drunken first kiss. When that happened, she woke up short of breathe, before turning to see her roomie peacefully sleeping in her bed. Jessie never loved her that way. Despite her charming appearance, she never had many stories, she put her career first, and Kate was glad of that sudden change of heart: Jessie looked happier now. Even if it wasn't with her. That's what you do when you truly love someone, right? Even if it hurts as hell, she thought, glancing off into the horizon. And Naomi is a good girl, she will take care of my Ravenclaw. Suddenly, her phone buzzed, interrupting her train of thoughts. Incoming call from Scarlett. Surprisingly, Kate and Scarlett were on good terms now: there was no need to argue anymore. They both fell for the wrong guy, a guy who only succeeded in making them both unhappy. A guy who cheated on them both, in the end. They needed time to recover, but they realised they would have never allowed the Sterlings boy to put an end to their friendship. When Scarlett came back home from rehab, Kate was at the Emerson mansion waiting for her with Grant. Kate picked up the phone. On the other side, Scarlett excited voice almost startled her: "Hey girl! You're coming over for dinner! Grant is cooking...-what did you say, bro?- oh well something French: I swear, with him I can't even pronounce what I'm eating, nor know what I'm eating! Crazy, right? Anyway, enough rambling: I'm not taking no for an answer! We're waiting for you and hey, the baby will love it, so one more reason why, right doll? Hurry!" Kate smiled softly against her phone: "You guys are the best. Thanks for having me, I'm on my way, lovelies." She threw once last glance to the sea and stood. Gotta go, little one, friends are waiting.

#choicesnovemberchallenge #veil of secrets #vos #kate o'malley #Kate x mc #naomi x mc #fanfic