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mrs-gucci · 3 years

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Spousal Privilege {Henry McHenry x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I deleted the original request accidentally, but essentially, it was the prompt written below, but instead of getting married for tax benefits, you get married because he needs you to help keep him out of jail/the courtroom for Ann’s murder.

**just because I write it doesn’t mean I condone it. writing a fictional piece and condoning are two very different things. this is fanFICTION.**

original prompt (from @dailyau): “we got married for tax benefits, but you aren’t in love with me and I didn’t develop feelings for you until after we got married. in practice, we’re just roommates. However, we’re staying over with someone who knows that we’re married but not why we’re married so we were only provided with one bed for our stay.” (slightly modified) prompt: “we got married for [the benefit of spousal privilege], but but you aren’t in love with me and I didn’t develop feelings for you until after we got married. in practice, we’re just roommates. however, we’re staying over with someone who knows that we’re married but not why we’re married so we were only provided with one bed for our stay.”

warnings: angst & smut. not-so-mutual feelings. non-con elements (but they’re not unwelcomed). taking advantage of someone else’s feelings for you to benefit sexually. masturbation. (kind of) mutual masturbation.

tw’s: consumption/use of alcohol (briefly mentioned). !!non-con somnophilia. !!non-con voyerism.

word count: 2.4k

“Spousal Privilege”: if you’re married, your spouse cannot be forced to testify against you in a court of law.

my taglist peeps (slashed through means that the username didn’t tag): @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

“It’s just one weekend, Henry. One weekend. We have to at least pretend to be married.”

He sighs, reclining on the large lounger on the back deck, rolling an unlit cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. “Y/N...you know that I can’t come with you. I’ve got a show this weekend; I can’t just skip my own show to be your plus-one at a wedding.”

It feels like you’re the only one actually trying to appear as a couple, since your union is a sham. You made the grave mistake of visiting the McHenry residence on the night of Ann’s murder, finding a blood-spattered and disheveled Henry with his hand on the butchers knife impaling her chest.

And then, a few weeks later, your friendship became a marriage. You knew Henry was a good guy, and you’ve been friends with him a very long time, so...you helped him out by becoming the second Mrs. McHenry in order to protect him in case of a criminal trial. Spousal privilege is a powerful weapon in the judicial system, one that Henry successfully secured.

Almost a year has passed since that fateful night, and the police investigation has all but stopped due to lack of evidence. The only living people who know what happened are you and him.

The worst part of it, though? You’ve fallen for him, hard. Sure, he’s been your friend since high school, but you never thought of him as partner material before. But, now that you live with him and spend lots of time together, you realize that he’s an amazing guy that you really feel connected to.

Unfortunately, he’s not in love with you, and probably never will be. But, you soldier on, putting your feelings on the backburner for the sake of the false union.

Henry sticks the cigarette between his teeth, the familiar flick of the lighter slicing the tension between you. He takes a long drag, exhaling loudly.

“Fine. But at least I’m actually trying to make this whole arrangement seem real. At this point, I’m the only one trying at all.” You huff, shaking your head as you walk back into the house.

You arrive at the large rented house for the bridal party, greeted by several of your closest friends as you walk through the door. Immediately, they ask about Henry, and you tell them that he won’t be joining you this weekend, that he has a show that he just can’t miss.

They’re understanding, of course, knowing of Henry’s blossoming career as a comedian. You spend the rest of the afternoon catching up with your friends, who seemed to be acting a bit strangely. They’re looking towards the lobby religiously, seemingly waiting for someone to arrive.

Probably just one of their boyfriends or husbands, you think, dismissing it with little thought as the waiter comes over with a tray of cocktails.

It’s nearly midnight when you finally head back up to your room, eyelids heavy as you fumble with the key and open the door. You’re startled when you see a large shadowy figure sitting on the queen bed.

You quickly flip the lights on to reveal the mysterious figure’s identity.

“Henry? What are you doing here?”

He stands, grabbing a small bouquet of flowers before bringing them over to you.

“I’m sorry for being so unreasonable about this trip, Y/N. You’re right, I haven’t been trying as hard as I can to spend ‘couple’ time with you lately. And I know how important this trip is, so...I postponed my show to next weekend in order to be here with you.”

You’re unable to stop the grin that spreads across your face at this genuinely kind gesture that he’s done for you. You take the flowers from his outstretched hand.

“Wow, this is...thank you, Henry.” You meet his eyes. “I mean it, thank you. I’m, uh, I’m glad you’re here.”

His cheeks are dusted pink as he looks down at the carpeted floor, running a hand through his hair. “It’ll be nice to spend some time together, I think. We’ve been a bit disconnected lately, off doing our own stuff without really connecting all that often.”

You nod in agreement, filling one of the hotel glasses with lukewarm water for the flowers. You set them on the desk, then look over at the bed.

Bed, not beds.

“I...I can ask for a different room. She just put us in here because she knows we’re married...”

He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. We’ll make do.”

You’re a bit surprised by his mellow, chilled reaction to the situation. You thought surely he’d want to change rooms, since the two of you have never shared a bed before.

Really, at home, you’re just roommates; each having your own separate living spaces. But of course, your friend Jen doesn’t know of the...unique aspects of your outwardly loving union, like the fact that it’s not genuine.

Both of you quietly unpack your things into the shared dresser. You keep your pajamas out and after you place your emptied duffle in the closet, you shed your top and bottoms, leaving you in just your undergarments.

When you turn around to grab your pajamas, you catch Henry looking at you, a fact that brings a sheepish warmth to your cheeks. He was shirtless, standing in only his black jeans, which has you quite flustered. Henry’s very much in shape, you’re painfully aware of that in the moment, and you can’t help but let your gaze fall to his chiseled abdomen.

His eyes quickly dart away from you, as yours do from him, and his cheeks turn pink. He continues folding his clothes, putting them in the top two drawers of the dresser. You bite your lip as you grab your pajamas and head into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

The mirror blurs with steam from the hot water as it emerges from the shower head. You’re quick to peel the panties from your hips and the bra from your chest, tossing both on the tiled floor before stepping under the steaming stream.

You groan softly as the hot water massages your tired muscles. The ache between your thighs is anything but soothed by the water, though, and your mind is playing the sight of Henry’s sculpted body on a loop, only intensifying your arousal.

It’s gotten to the point where the need for a bit of relief is inevitable, despite your efforts to prevent it.

Your hand trails down and dips between your legs, fingertips sliding around your slickened folds, attempting to locate the special bundle of nerves nestled beneath.

Breath hitching, you sigh softly as you begin rubbing it in small, lazy circles. Small gasps and moans escape your lips as the flames of your arousal are flamed with each swipe of your fingertips.

Unbeknownst to you, Henry has abandoned his putting-away efforts in favor of standing outside the bathroom door. He’s heard a few soft, muffled noises coming from the room, so he decided to approach and make sure that nothing’s wrong.

His length twitches to life beneath his jeans as he realizes what exactly it is those noises mean, what you're likely doing in there. He wonders, as he reaches down to cup his swelling arousal, if this was brought on by the sight of his naked torso.

You exhale shakily, lining up and pushing two fingers into your wet heat, biting your lip to try and suppress the gasp that escapes your throat.

Henry grunts softly upon hearing this slip-up, shaky hands fiddling with his belt buckle, then with the button and zipper on his pants. He pulls his cock out in a rushed manner, ear pressing against the door while his hand starts to move up and down his shaft.

He hears something come from behind the door, but it’s too muffled by the wood that he can’t make out exactly what you said, which is probably a good thing.

“F-Fuck...Henry.” You breathe quietly, moving your digits in and out of your entrance swiftly, curling them up sporadically in order to tease your g-spot. “Shit.”

A low growl slips out as his length hardens further with his hand’s movements, slit starting to drool semi-transparent beads of liquid. He slicks them down his shaft, allowing his calloused palm to glide easier.

Your release quickly builds up inside you, hips jerking and twitching instinctively each time your fingers stimulate the special spot on your inner walls. It’s not long before you’re cumming all over your fingers with a series of soft moans and whines.

These small noises meet his ears and, within a minute, Henry reaches his own climax. He covers his mouth, a long groan muffled by the skin of his palm as ropes of seed spill out all over his palm and some onto the doorframe.

He rushes to wipe the evidence of his release from the scene, scrambling to grab his dirty t-shirt in order to do so. He hears you stepping out of the shower and quickly tucks himself back into his pants, running over to sit on his bed.

You emerge from the bathroom a minute or so later with only a towel on. He avoids eye contact, gathering his own clothes and heading into the bathroom for a quick shower.

You’re already tucked into bed and reading when Henry comes out of the bathroom in his boxers, ruffling his hair with the towel once more time before hanging it back up on the bathroom hook.

After finishing a chapter, you tuck your bookmark back between the pages before setting it down on your bedside table, turning the lamp off. You doze off soon after.

Henry waits patiently, very patiently, until he’s absolutely sure you’re fast asleep. His cock twitches and stirs in his boxers as he thinks about his plan of attack, how he’ll do this without waking you.

He knows this is wrong, but he just can’t help himself; it’s been too long and his hand simply isn’t doing this trick anymore. And you are his wife, after all.

His fingers reach under the covers, experimentally dragging his hand up your exposed thigh. You don’t seem to really mind, but an innocent-enough thigh touch and his cock inside you are two very different things.

So, he figures that he should probably try his fingers first. At least that’d be easier to explain in the event that you wake up and find him knuckle-deep in your cunt.

Sure, he thinks you’re physically attractive, objectively, but he doesn’t have any more than sexual feelings for you. You’re his best friend and he wants to keep it that way.

But...all that can wait until tomorrow. For now, he needs this from you; he desperately needs this.

You’re laying on your front, so he’s careful as he mounts you from behind, gently encouraging your legs apart with his knee. Once you’re spread apart enough, he slips his hand down to cup your crotch, biting his lip when he feels the natural heat already present.

He smirks, slipping his fingers between your pussy lips, searching for the spot that’ll get you nice and wet for him. Your hips naturally surge upwards when he finds it, a small grunt escaping your lips, but you remain asleep.

A breath of relief slips through the gaps of his perfectly crooked teeth as he continues rubbing you. It’s not long before you become slick, providing the natural lubricant for his fingers to glide easier.

His fingers begin to tease your puckered entrance, and he slowly slides one of the thick digits in, groaning under his breath as you clench so tightly around him.

“Little slut. Wants it even in her sleep.” He muses with a devious smirk, beginning to move his finger in and out with great care and caution.

You moan softly, subconsciously spreading your legs wider for him. He shudders with arousal at this simple movement, palming his hardened cock over the thin material of his boxers while a second finger joins the first inside of you.

He’s so hard, he almost can’t see straight, absolutely loving the way you react to his touch. You’re fast asleep, unaware of his touch; and yet, you’re still soaked and squirming for him. There’s something so deliciously wrong about this that makes him throb.

Soon, he can’t hold himself back anymore. He pulls his cock from beneath the airy fabric, stroking himself as he allows his hand to run over your backside. His jaw clenches, suppressing the moans that so desperately want to come out.

Finally, the moment of truth. Will you wake up when he slides in?

The buzz, the adrenaline rush he’s getting from this is practically unmatched by anything in his day-to-day life. Not even his shows, his performances bring him this much of a rush.

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly, biting down on his lip hard as a soft groan slips out. You’re so tight, so wet, so hot, so perfect.

You moan loudly, body and hips wriggling as your insides adjust to his length and thickness. It takes every ounce of his willpower to stay still, to let you adjust to the sudden intrusion. He wants nothing more than to pound you into the mattress and cum deep inside you, but he can’t do either of those things.

His hips roll softly, gently, cock dragging against your walls at an almost painfully slow pace. Your walls clench so tightly around him and he has to white-knuckle the headboard in order to keep himself centered and restrained.

You’re stirring a bit, but you’re still asleep, and Henry feels his climax already starting to build. Normally he’d be ashamed of this fact, but it’s probably best if he doesn’t drag this out.

The little noises escaping your lips only spur Henry on, each of your little grunts, groans, whimpers and moans are like music to his ears.

With only a few more thrusts, combined with the sight of your ass jiggling each time his skin collides with yours, Henry’s cumming. He pulls out in the knick of time, shooting his seed all over your little pajama shorts, secretly hoping his cum stains them.

He strokes himself through orgasm, riding out his high to its fullest before re-adjusting your shorts and tucking himself back into his boxers, laying down next to you.

A soft sigh leaves his lips as he catches his breath, flipping over and sitting to grab the pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, heading out to the small balcony.

Plumes of gray smoke linger in the still summer night as Henry looks out onto the lake, admiring the soft moonlight reflecting off the bouncing water. He comes back in after a few minutes and climbs back into bed, eyes fluttering shut.

Maybe being married to you wasn’t so bad, after all.

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shcherbatskya · 3 years

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A case in suburbia, domestic dynamics, and a forever home. What could go wrong?

the moment i’ve been waiting for! chapter one is up now! read here or under the cut.

Cas and Dean were searching for a forever house. They had been pretty much since Cas got back from the empty. They were ready to distance themselves from hunting. Dean had always wanted a sort of suburban, white picket fence life, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone. And since he already admitted how he truly felt to Cas, why not throw his need for a domestic lifestyle into the mix. Cas was all for it. Ever since Jack had given up most of his powers to Amara, thus causing her to take his place as God and him almost human, Cas had been hoping for a place to raise him like a normal child. The bunker was great for hunting and a place for Cas, Dean, and Sam, but not so much for raising a 5-year-old kid.

House hunting had been a burden to bear, but they were making out alright. Up till this, they’d looked at about 3 other houses. They were all a no for different reasons. The first one Cas decided was in a school district that wouldn’t be good for Jack, the second didn’t have a big enough garage or backyard, and the third didn’t have enough bedrooms for all of their family to stay. With the whole credit card scam they’d been running for as long as they remember, budget wasn’t really a problem, but they didn’t want something extravagant.

There it was, 538 Chapel Street in Pine River Crossings. It wasn’t too far out of Lawrence, only a few hours' drive, and all the houses looked nice. Very cookie cutter, but that was sort of the appeal. They couldn’t guarantee that they would fit in with the traditional, upper middle-class people, but what the hell, if they could kill god they could take suburbia.

A few days passed, and they were set up to look at the home. They drove the hour and a half to the next medium-sized town with the belief in their minds that this was the one. It had all they needed, a two-car garage, a respectable school district, and two guest bedrooms. They were so caught up in this concept they made the mistake of not checking the news for the nearby areas. Once they arrived, a realtor who showed them around the dwelling greeted them. It was all they could ask for and more practically too good to be true, especially for people like them. The actual presentation of the house went over without too many problems. The person exhibiting the residence commented on how it had been on display for almost a month now, which was the first red flag. A house as nice as this, in a densely populated area, would usually not be on the market for that long in weeks unless there was some hidden con.

They signed on it not a day after seeing the house in person. It was all set up and they could officially start moving stuff in the next week. They officially shared the good news with everyone the day after they signed. Sam was beyond happy for them. Not only would he finally have a space to himself, he was proud of his brother for living the life he’d always wanted. Jack was thrilled that he would get to go to actual school and have friends that were his age and not cosmic entities. In the meantime, Cas did more research into the neighborhood. There was their hidden con. The newspaper Cas had pulled up on his phone said, “Local Couple Murdered in Own Home.”

“Dean, look at this.”

Okay, that was a setback. A murderer on the loose in the neighborhood they were moving into was not exactly what he had planned, but he had delt with worse. “Alright, that could be a problem.”

“I think it’s a little bigger than a problem,” Cas retorted.

“Is it our type of thing or just something local law enforcement could deal with?”

Cas read on in the article, “the couple was stabbed, there was no sign of forced entry, neighbors reported nothing amiss besides lights flickering before the murder. The weapon, as well as the perpetrator, was never found. No official suspects have been labeled, everyone has seemed to have an alibi.”

“It definitely sounds like our thing. Lights flickering, no breaking and entering, and all.”

They decided they could pose as residents, as it seemed perfectly normal for the newcomers to be concerned about the literal murderer on the loose. Since Cas was newly human, and Jack was, well, 5, Dean thought they might need outside help. Being out of practice to spend more time with your husband and child really had its fallbacks. Sam was off the table as backup. He was out of town and Dean didn't want to interrupt his first weekend without him in god knows how long. Plus, they needed someone who wouldn't draw too much attention to their family dynamic.

“Hey, Cas, what do you think about calling in Claire to help us with this one? You think she’d do it?”

“Calling her in for help is a good idea, whether or not shed actually do it is another question.”

“I’ll call and ask, and if she wants to help, and if not then I can think of something else.”

He kept his promise and called Claire not an hour later. He decided it might be best not to tell her it was undercover work, or that it was taking place in a white picket fence neighborhood, as that might turn her off from it almost immediately.

“Hey Claire, its been too long since we’ve talked,” he started.

“Hi Dean. what do you want, there’s no way you’re just calling to catch up if you’re starting with ‘its been too long.’”

“You got me there. I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me and Cas on a hunt. Its not too far from the bunker and we’d have you back home in a week.”

“Sure, that works. When do we start?” She hadnt seen Dean and Cas since they rescued Cas. That was over a month ago, she’d been meaning to visit, but she’d been so busy with hunting, and getting to know Kaia again now that she was finally back. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to reconnect and not miss out on anything too big back at home.

“If you could come down here by Wednesday, that’d be great.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” She was tempted to sign off with an ‘I love you’ but she was never a lovey-dovey person in that way.

On tuesday she promised Jody she’d be extra careful and would be back in under a week. Kaia told her to make sure to call every day and update her on what was happening. Claire agreed, promising to keep in touch. She spent the rest of the day driving down to Kansas.

Back on Dean and Cas’s end, they were trying to get the house set up for 4 people when they had no furniture prior to this. Cas had always loved furniture shopping even before he had a use for it. When he worked at the Gas-and-Sip, he would browse the home improvement magazines in his spare time. Dean was pretty much the opposite. He had never had reason to care for it, so he didn't. Maybe his hatred for Swedish furniture was rooted in his deep-seated commitment issues. It didn't matter much why he hated it, he just left most of the choices up to Cas. there was then the issue of appliances and such you couldn't find in a furniture store. That was left up to him. Cas sent him out to Walmart to get things for the kitchen. That was something he could do. He picked out a mixer, some silverware, and a pioneer woman kitchenware set. It came with pots and pans, mixing bowls, and a few normal sized plates. That was enough for him to consider it an absolute steal. He brought his finds home to the bunker, setting them on the table designated for things that were to go in the new house. Jack was sitting on Cas’s lap, pointing at things on the computer.

“What’re you guys finding?” Dean asked, hovering behind Cas’s shoulder.

“Djungelskog!” Jack exclaimed, showing Dean a photo of a large stuffed brown bear.

“I thought you were looking for furniture?” Dean directed the question more at Cas, but he was still looking at Jack.

“We are. Jack just got us a bit sidetracked. We found the majority of what we need. Among other things not of as grave importance.”

Dean looked over the shopping cart and then gave the go ahead. Not before adding the stuffed bear to the cart, though.

The next day Claire arrived. Everyone was thrilled to see her. Jack ran up and threw himself around one of her legs and Cas gave her an awkward dad side hug. Dean wondered when he would tell her what the hunt would actually consist of, but he didn't want to interrupt the moment.

A few hours later, Dean fixed everyone a real dinner and had them sit down at the kitchen table. The realization dawned on him that this was going to be his last sit down meal officially living in the bunker. Everyone sort of just sat in silence for a beat. Perhaps reflecting on their own lasts of officially living there. “Claire, I sorta forgot to add this when I called you, but the case is a lot of undercover work. Also its in a suburban area.”

“And why didn't you tell me this sooner?”

“Well to speak freely, I wanted you on this case and I was worried it would make you not want to come.”

“It almost does, but i'm already here now, and i wouldn't want to waste a days driving on something i'm not actually going to do.” She guessed this would probably take longer than a week. “And i'm guessing this isn't just something you decided to do out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“We bought a house in the area, and we just wanted to make sure it was safe,” Cas explained.

“Hang on, you bought a house for real and you didnt even think to tell me? You didn't think that that was valuable information?”

“It didn't come up in our phone call,” Dean said.

“And? That’s no excuse to leave your daughter out of major life events!” The ‘daughter’ part just sort of came out without her noticing, but seconds after she said it she regretted it. God, how embarrassing.

“You’re right. We should’ve told you sooner. It was kind of a recent decision, though, so you haven’t been out of the loop for too long,” Cas said.

The next day was moving day. Dean loaded the appliances into the back of Claire’s car, since the back of the Impala was already full. Claire took her own car, while Dean, Cas, and Jack rode in Baby. Their real furniture was being delivered as they spoke. Cas offered to ride with Claire, but she assured him she’d be fine by herself. The drive wasn’t even that long, especially compared to the distance she drove yesterday.

Dean was silently nervous. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but it was written all over his face. His first real stable house, with the man he loved, and his two kids, he could only hope that he didn’t mess it up. Cas put a hand on his shoulder showing he saw how Dean was feeling.

They turned onto Chapel Street and pulled up into the driveway of the house. It somehow looked bigger and more daunting than it had during the walkthrough. Claire arrived almost ten minutes later. Everyone just sort of paused in front of the house for a minute, reveling in the stability most of them had never had.

#pspspsps you want to reblog my hard work sooo bad #supernatural #spn #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural fic #samael speaks #sammy sires

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gallivantingheart · 3 years

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the proposal pt.1

who?: jeonghan x (f)reader

word count: 1495

genre/s: fluff and a bit of fun

warnings: none!

synopsis: jeonghan has never been confused on how you feel about marriage - now it’s just a matter of how to do it.

a/n: just a fun diddy bc i love this sleepy man - no, not based off that movie with sandra bullock

note: bold italics = korean

You confuse him endlessly. More so than the likes of his cryptic self or round-about Jihoon. How you say action is your favourite genre but he catches you watching the same romance movie at least once every few weeks, singing and crying at the same parts. How your wardrobe is full of dark hoodies and you wear the same ripped jeans, but your nails are always sparkly and your draws have pastel blouses. You'll say you don't need romantic gestures, but almost always squeal when he drops flowers by your office. Or the fact you say you're bad at them but always pull the best tear-jerkers on him. Like the time you brought him dinner to the practice room - vase of flowers and all - at midnight while keeping him company, even though he knew you had a client presentation the next day. The comeback prep was gruelling, so yeah, he got a bit misty-eyed.

At least one thing he's not confused with is your opinion of marriage. Despite this comfort, even though you've been together for almost four years, you've never once brought up marriage, even casually. You cried though, when Mingyu and Chaewon got engaged at their anniversary party last year. Babbled wetly into his shoulder about how sweet love was, meant to be and the like - for the record, you were completely sober. Sobbed even longer as one of Chaewon's bridesmaids that Jeonghan had to collect you from the altar after they left the venue. And he's seen you look at apartments to share, linger on pinterest on a Saturday afternoon.

He wants it just as bad as you, but no idea how to broach it. You’ve talked about how you want a rescue cat when you move in together as well as the style of decor. Even said in passing at a park how you hope that your kids have his smile because it’s, “the most beautiful thing I get to see every day.” Jeonghan doesn’t want to overwhelm you with a grand public proposal, but he doesn’t know how to wow you like you do for him all the time. Jeonghan’s gotta be honest - he wants the whole shebang. Smiles, tears, blubbering; the lot.

He also realises that he wants it recorded for your mum when he calls her for her blessing. You moved a whole hemisphere away a year before the two of you met, to pursue a job in the entertainment industry. Something interesting and left of field found you in Korea working in concepts and marketing. So phone and video calls are a regular for the two of you. He’s also tried really hard over the years to improve his English, to bridge the gap with your family. Jeonghan thinks your mother is amazing, kind and funny - the kind of level head he expected to bring such a wonderful person like you into the world.

He’s English is nowhere near good enough for what he wants to say, so he asks for a familiar face to help out. Joshua is on the video call too, made in Shua’s clean dorm. Your mother looks a little surprised to not see you there. You both have the same texture of hair, but not much else.

“Jeonghan! How are you!” She waves.

He smiles at her enthusiasm. “Good thank you. How are you?”

“I’m really good, sweetheart. Bit of a weird time to call - everything okay? Where’s y/n?”

He sees her search the screen for her daughter, even so much as leaning side to side to try and see outside the frame. Some of her speech is still lost on him, so he looks to Joshua in question. He leans over to his ear.

“She’s wondering if everything is okay for you to be calling at this time.”

Jeonghan raises his brows and nods in understanding. Her expression changes as well, the lines around her eyes softening with the fading concern.

“It is okay. Y/N is at work. I...I have a question to ask you. Just us. It’s very important.” He twists his ring anxiously in his lap.

“Of course, what is it?”

Joshua can see the tension rising in Jeonghan’s shoulders, how quiet and hesitant he gets at the elder woman’s agreement. The way he looks at the woman, staring persistently. The American born member leans over with a smile.

“Hi y/n’s mum. It’s a bit of a speech, so I’ll be helping Jeonghan translate, okay?” He looks to his friend, nodding gently. “Jeonghan? Tell her.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a person like y/n... She’s kind and exciting and interesting and she makes me really happy. I hope I do the same for her. I can’t imagine my life now if she weren’t in it. I don’t want to lose all that. I would like your blessing in asking her to marry me.” Jeonghan says as clear as he can, without too much of his nerves or feelings getting in the way - usually an easy feat for him.

Joshua translates along the way and he picks up words here and there - happy and your name, of course. But he’s not watching his fellow member speak for once, instead analysing his potential mother-in-law’s reaction. He starts to jiggle his knee off the bed as he sees your mother’s expression roll from from a quirked brow to a warm smile, then watching her eyes go glassy and her chin wobble through said smile. Her hands go over her mouth once Joshua finishes and out of shot, his hand lies flat over Jeonghan’s on his sheets in a sign of comfort.

“I...I...yes. I would love to have you as part of the family officially. Of course you have my blessing.” Your mother pulls her hands away to murmur.

She fumbles to the side for tissues and Jeonghan looks to Joshua in shock. He heard a yes, but… Joshua is meanwhile beaming in return, laughing at his member’s expense.

“She would love to have you as part of the family. You have her blessing.”

Jeonghan grins, his chest so full and tense he feels like he might burst. Instead, he laughs, grasping shua’s shoulders to shake them

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

She shakes her head. “Of course I would say yes. You don’t know how much she talks about you when you aren’t there - how much she raved about you when the two of you first met. It was like the stories she used to make up as a little girl, come to life. I wish I was there to see her face when you ask.”

Jisoo translates and he laughs even more, elated being an understatement.

It took a little searching and contemplating on what kind of ring to get you. Nothing too big, because you used your hands for everything. Not gold, because you didn’t like the way it looked against your skin. He settles on loopholing the gold for white gold, something silver but reflective and a singular round diamond - only two carats or else you’d throw a fit at the mystery price. He gets a thin chain as well of the same material, knowing you were more likely to wear it round your neck than on your finger for fear of losing it. Seungkwan of all people was the one to help with the final decision, insisting on its chic simplicity and pretty glow.

Jeonghan decides on a little party to pop the question. Or as little as you can get with thirteen members and their partners as well as your friends and their plus ones. Under a guise of missing your friends and a celebration of your success with a client, he even whines that he’ll organise the food and drink. Everyone invited is in on it, of course, which heightens the stakes.

The box sits hot in his pocket or bag all week. All the members know about the little surprise coming up dance between trading their resident trickster or offering a helping hand. Seungkwan has pulled up as quite the miracle worker, his entertainment ties conjuring up a caterer on such short notice and Mingyu slipping the business card of the decorator of his engagement party - it’s a little worn from being worried in Seungcheol’s initial finding but that just adds to the charm. Like a group heirloom to be passed around.

Despite the client win, you’re still snowed under with new paperwork and contracts, so you’re none the wiser to the nerves brewing in your boyfriend which proves to be the perfect mix come the weekend.

He lets you sleep in even later than the two of you usually do, and encourages you to take up that nail salon voucher you’ve been humming and harring about - you deserve a treat, he whines. And when you shut the door gently, Jeonghan breathes a sigh of relief and an inhale of stress - now the fun really begins.

#caratwritersclub #jeonghan #seventeen #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #jeonghan fic #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan scenario #written #flickficfest

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houchlife · 3 years

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10 Steps to Attract the Life You Want

By Heather Mathews Author of Manifestation Miracle

“What you seek is seeking you” - Rumi

If I told you that you could create the exact type of circumstances you want, would you call me crazy?

What if your very thoughts could create ripples of change that not only impact your life…but those around you as well?

Philip, a call center worker from the Philippines certainly didn't think so. He dreamed of moving overseas so he could secure a better life and provide for his family.

But at every turn, his own mind shut down every opportunity he thought of.

For instance, Philip considered seeing an immigration consultant, but he either “didn't have the time” or “couldn't afford it”.

So, he resented his situation and cursed himself (and the world) for his “bad luck”.

He didn't realize that the real culprit was his mindset - not his circumstances.

And it seemed like the more he ruminated, the more bad things happened.

Thus, he kept feeding the cycle of being stuck in a rut and feeling bad, trapping him even more.

That was, until his aunt Sara introduced him to the Law of Attraction.

Turning the tide

Before she moved to California, Sara had been close with Philip and treated him like a son.

She had her own share of struggles finding greener pastures abroad, but she applied the principles from the Law of Attraction to overcome them.

So she sent a few books on the topic to Philip through Amazon so he could gain the clarity to turn his life around.

Discover the Lazy Person's Secret To Get Everything You've Ever Wished For

----- CLICK HERE ------

At first, Philip didn't really think much of it, but he decided to read through the books since his aunt went through the trouble of sending it over.

After he started applying the lessons he learned from the material, things started to change for him.

It came as a complete shock to Philip - he never thought in a million years that making a simple shift in his thinking could have such a direct and POWERFUL impact in his life.

And soon enough, the fog of negativity and despair around Philip lifted and he found a way to make his dreams happen.

Through his persistence, he was eventually able to borrow the money he needed for the consultation fees, and learned the step-by-step process to get work overseas.

Philip was finally able to find a fulfilling and rewarding career in Australia. Not only does he get to support his family back home, he also made friends and enjoys his new life abroad.

Just a few months ago, Philip's parents started their own business, thanks to his help.

At the rate they're going, his family could save enough so they can pass on their business to another relative and follow Philip to Australia. ould wait for Philip to take the offer so they can move there instead.

Whatever option Philip chooses, the possibilities for him are almost limitless.

But he's just one of thousands who made the Law of Attraction to work for him. Like Philip, a lot of people are initially discouraged to try because they think it takes a lot of work.

But the reality is that it's surprisingly easy to get started. You just need to follow these 10 Super Simple Steps to Attract Everything You've Ever Wanted:

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Step #1: A little gratitude goes a long way

The first thing you should learn about the Law of Attraction is that it operates on energy.

YOUR energy, to be exact.

Everyone has a different kind of energy they bring into the world, and it affects them in ways they often don't see or appreciate.

The secret lies in the FREQUENCY of a person's energy - and you need to raise yours in order to change your life.

Think of your unique energy as a sort of gas that fills the space of your reality. Whatever “gas” or “energy” you pump out into your immediate space will define your existence.

Viktor Frankl, a psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, said this in his book, “Man's Search for Meaning”:

“To draw an analogy: a man's suffering is similar to the behavior of a gas. If a certain quantity of gas is pumped into an empty chamber, it will fill the chamber completely and evenly, no matter how big the chamber. Thus suffering completely fills the human soul and conscious mind, no matter whether the suffering is great or little. Therefore the "size" of human suffering is absolutely relative.”

So if you want to invite great things into your life, you need to set the stage first. And you can do that by leading with the right energy.

That's why being grateful and appreciating what you have is powerful way to recalibrate your frequency.

Most folks hold off on feeling this way for AFTER they get what they want. But that's putting the cart before the horse, as the saying goes.

When you LEAD with gratitude, it will act as the precedent for everything good that follows.

Discover the Lazy Person's Secret To Get Everything You've Ever Wished For

----- CLICK HERE -----

What I like to do is start of my day by making a list of things that I'm grateful for. If I miss anything, I save it for later and update my list at the end of my day.

And when I go over my list during the weekend, I'll see exactly how much good stuff I've accumulated.

This creates a kind of snowball effect and helps me attract even MORE good stuff down the road.

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Step #2: Be generous

This can be a challenge for some people if they feel like there isn't enough to go around.

But if you take the initiative to SHARE whatever you can without asking anything in return…

… you'll generate the kind of energy that attracts prosperity for everyone…

…including YOU.

Again, this is the Law of Attraction at work.

Try offering your time, talents and material wealth to those who need it - you'll soon invite blessings without even trying.

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Step #3: Visualize your future

What I find amazing about kids is how powerful their imaginations are.

When they role-play with other children, you can see in their eyes how REAL their games are to them.

This is something that's lost on grown-ups, and it's important to recapture that ability to envision the kind of reality you want.

The Universe likes to play games with us- the better you are at visualizing, the more you'll be rewarded.

Like I said, a certain type of energy attracts a certain kind of reality.

So if you focus your energy and thoughts on that dream job you want or the car you've always wanted to drive, you'll raise your frequency to ATTRACT those exact things.

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Step #4: Let the negativity pass

When the bad times roll in and you feel like dirt, sometimes it's better to step aside and let it run its course.

Having negative thoughts and emotions are totally normal, but you don't always have to wrestle with them.

You can simply acknowledge what's going on in your inner world - then CHOOSE to keep moving forward anyway.

Let this negative energy pass through your system like bad case of gas. The sooner you let it do its thing, the quicker you can get back to what you were doing.

(Sorry for the fart analogy, but it get the point across, doesn't it?)

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Step #5: Never stop growing

It's good to have a daily routine in your life, but not at the expense of your personal development.

Most people are so set in their ways that they're afraid of the thought of doing something new.

Then they complain about their humdrum lives, or that some folks “have all the luck.”

Breaking out of your comfort zone is never an easy thing, but it's a step worth taking.

No matter how loaded your schedule is, find some chunks of time to do things that will help you grow.

Whether it's taking an online course, joining a community, or taking up a hobby, this is a powerful way to attract new and exciting things in your life.

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Step #6: Avoid the “toxic” crowd

There are people who seem hell-bent on pulling others into their world of misery.

Whether they're trying to lessen their own pain or simply enjoy doing it, you need to steer clear of them.

Instead, choose people who will have the opposite effect on your psyche. Not only does a person's energy attract circumstances, it's also CONTAGIOUS.

So make sure you hang out with the people who'll inspire you to achieve greater things - and not bring you down with apathy or inaction.

Learn How to Force the Universe to Manifest Your Dream Life -

CLICK HERE

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Step #7: Give yourself permission to succeed

Most of the world's most brilliant people were put down in some way.

Somewhere along the way, someone told them they'd “never make it” or were “destined to fail.”

In your own life, certain people have tried to discourage you in some way.

They might have tried putting you down when you were growing up - or it could have been last week.

It doesn't matter.

What's important is that you understand that NO ONE can put labels on you.

And more importantly, they can NEVER give you permission to achieve what you want in life. You need to do that for yourself.

Don't let their words define your “story”. You don't have to fit whatever petty narrative they're trying to force on you.

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Step #8: Affirm who you are

Instead of feeding into the lies that people tell you, let this be the day to start living your truth.

Create statements that embody the truth you choose to be, AND to live in.

People do this all the time.

When Elon Musk tried to launch the world's first privately owned rocket and failed, he told himself, “I'm going to try again, and I WILL get that thing into orbit.” (Well, maybe not exactly like that, but you get the point.)

And so his company SpaceX went back to the drawing board and got it right after the third attempt.

Elon affirmed his truth and it manifested into reality. In the same way, you can choose to affirm whatever truth applies to you.

Be honest with yourself and acknowledge the things that TRULY matter to you.

You know it, and the Universe knows it.

The key is to repeat it yourself every day. For example, if you know deep in your heart that you want to make a better life for yourself, you can say something like this:

“I may be struggling right now, but I know deep inside that I have what it takes to improve my life. I see myself transforming into a happier, wealthier person who makes other people's lives brighter.”

When you operate from even the tiniest shred of truth, you can grow that into a powerful force over time.

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Step #9: Fail spectacularly

Here's something most people don't know about the Law of Attraction: before you can enjoy success and find true happiness, you need to crash and burn.

It's better to go after what you want and risking failure rather than playing it safe and not trying at all.

To create order in your life, you'll have to embrace the chaos that comes before it.

This is where you'll find the real lessons, even if they hurt a little.

(Or in some cases, a LOT).

Think of yourself as the beautiful Phoenix, like in the legends.

Imagine burning off bits and pieces of yourself that you don't need. As you rise from the ashes, you're reborn into a NEW YOU.

That's evolution. It may be an imperfect and unpleasant process, but the results are worth it.

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Step #10: Remove your BIGGEST barrier to success

People don't realize that their greatest roadblock is none other than their own mindset.

They may say they want something to happen, but don't REALLY mean it.

For instance, someone might want to lose weight, but they don't want it bad enough.

Worse, they might not actually believe they can shed those pounds. A part of them refuses to acknowledge the faintest possibility of it happening.

This is pretty much why people NEVER attract the things they want in life.

In order to remove this barrier, you'll need to change something inside you.

You need to dig deep and understand WHY you don't want it as much as you say you do.

Are you scared of suffering through the process of getting what you want?

This is what turns most people off - they simply can't process the discomfort involved with growing up.

At the same time, you need to deal with the reasons why you think that your desired reality is impossible.

It could be some deep-seated beliefs brought about by past events, or experiences growing up.

Once you sort this out, you'll be free to do what you want without any pre-programmed beliefs holding you back.

Now, these ten steps we just talked about will get your foot in the door. Once you start doing them regularly, you'll experience remarkable breakthroughs you didn't think were possible.

But if you want to witness even MORE changes on a massive (or even cosmic) scale, you need to check out my FULL course called Manifestation Miracle.

Like the name suggests, I enjoyed nothing short of a life-changing revolution not too long ago.

In a lot of ways, my situation was the same as Philip's. I worked myself to the bone and felt unfulfilled.

I was trapped in my soul-crushing career. Even though I needed the money, I HATED having to put up a hollow appearance of a happy, successful businesswoman.

But then I discovered how turn my mind into a magnet for prosperity and abundance…

Learn how I unlocked the secret to ATTRACTING anything AND everything I wanted - CLICK HERE to watch the video now…

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imagineshere-forall · 4 years

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Derek Morgan Imagine

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: I don’t think so, just a bit sad

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: No request but I watched an episode of criminal minds and had an idea I couldn’t get out of my head. Based during the episode s2 ep11 ‘sex, birth, death’ this is the episode where someone is going round killing prostitutes and the team are surprised when you know some of the witnesses, especially your boyfriend derek.

Sorry this is so long!!

-----

You had been working at the BAU for a couple of years. Since your time at the BAU you had grown more than friendly with another member of the team, Derek Morgan. He helped you adjust to working with the quirky team and experiencing the horrific crimes. You and the team had grown as close as a family, Spencer your peculiar brother, and Hotch and Gideon posed as father figures as you had lacked one for most of your upbringing.

Recently, Spencer had been approached by a teenager, hinting at the murders of prostitutes in the local area. You, Morgan, Reid and Hotch were walking up and down the allies where the second body had been found. You and Morgan were looking at the dead body, studying the position of the body. Feeling satisfied you had taken enough mental notes to start conducting a profile, you walked over to the other three men who were talking to two other women who had been working alongside the victim.

As soon as you walked up to the pair of women, you felt the air in your lungs constrict. You knew these girls. One of them you knew so well, she was almost your mentor, Debbie. You thought the chance of you ever coming into contact with them was so unlikely, you’d never have to worry about it. You attempted to shield your face without drawing too much attention to yourself, working with a team of behavioural analysists usually meant you could never keep anything from them. You and Derek had only been able to keep your relationship a secret for a matter of weeks until Spencer pointed changes in your behaviour out.

“y/n it has been so long girl, I haven’t seen you in so long!” one of the girls smiled. The four men surrounding the pair of girls swivelled their heads to stare at you. You quickly plastered on a smile and hugged the girl coming close to you with open arms.

“You guys know each other?” Hotch asked looking as the pair of you parted from a tight embrace.

“We, uh, we use to work together, it’s good to see you Debbie,” you muttered, trying not to let anything on. You could see all four men’s burning stares at confusion as you swept a stray hair from your face. You began to feel intimidated, with your short stature they all towered above you.

“Well, not together together, she used to work the corner up a couple of blocks,” Debbie said as she smacked her chewing gum back into her mouth.

“What do you mean you use to work together?” Spencer asked, stuttering as though he knew the answer but didn’t quite want to draw conclusions.

“She used to mentor me, helped me save up enough and get me through college. If it weren’t for Debbie, I probably wouldn’t be working in the BAU with you guys,” you smiled, getting comfortable with your old friend. You had to admit you had missed her, you had great times together.

“She was a natural though, this girl didn’t need much mentoring,” Debbie winked. You could feel your face heating up. As your heart started to race you felt your boyfriend’s hand placed on the small of your back. He was confused, he thought you had told him everything about your life.

“I’m sorry, are you saying y/n, use to work with you, here?” Gideon asked, his eyes not leaving your heated face.

“Surprised she hasn’t told you, one of the most successful girls to work this city,” Debbie exclaimed. You cringed, wishing she would stop talking; but from your long history with her, you knew she would never stop talking. She could talk for the country.

As the men realised, you felt their stares changes from confusion. Derek’s hand left your body, a bit in shock.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” you whispered as you felt your eyes welling up. You couldn’t get Hotch’s eyes out of your mind. He had helped you so much, you had babysat his kid for him and Hayley. He looked betrayed that he hadn’t know one of your deepest secrets. You wiped one of the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, as you walked away you shook off Gideon’s hand trying to hold you back. You power walked towards the bustle of the city, just needing to get away from the tense situation.

Panic was coursing through your body. Constant thoughts of worry, whether you still had a job, if Derek would leave you, if they would ever talk to you again.

You heard footsteps chasing after you, and as someone grabbed your hands you went to shout your boyfriend away, not wanting to get into an argument. You silenced yourself as you were met with Spencer. You felt so weak you just collapsed into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Spencer never normally was good with contact; you just felt his hand rest on the back of your head and his head collapsing on your own.

Once your tears had begun to slow, you unwrapped yourself from Spencer noticing the large wet patch you had left on his sweater.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed.

“It’s fine,” he smiled, brushing it off as if it were nothing “Let’s go get a drink,” he held out his hand, which you gladly accepted using your other hand to wipe your face.

Once you had settled with a drink, you looked up seeing Spencer texting before placing his phone on the table. You had always been always to tell him everything, even before you told Derek.

You looked at him, placing your drink down.

“I had just graduated high school, and as someone who had been in and out of the foster system, I didn’t have much support. If I wanted to go to college, I had to get a decent job to keep up with costs of textbooks and food. I was working as a pole dancer, I made so much from tips on weekend nights, but it wasn’t enough. Debbie said if I needed more money, I could just go on dates with some men she knew and I'd get paid almost a thousand dollars a date. I was working part-time as a stripper, doing college full time and in one evening I managed to make what I would normally make in a month. All I had to do was dress nice and go to a fancy event with men and act a bit flirty.

With one man, it went a little bit further, he offered me 10 grand to have sex with him. That meant I would be able to quit my stripping job completely and focus on my studies for a while. Every couple of months we would meet up and do it again, and every time I was paid enough to keep me going for a while. After a year, he moved away and I couldn’t find any higher paying customers. I had to work more often. I went back to Debbie and she helped me get more regular customers. I managed to still make about 6 thousand dollars on a Friday night, I'm not sure what it was but men always came to me.

Once I got a steady job, and started moving up in law enforcement I could completely stop, no more escorting, no more stripping, I was finally making money my own way. The reason I chose law enforcement is because I had some bad experiences working in my field, and I wanted to stop other women going through it. Multiple times I was sexually assaulted by men, and attacked. I couldn’t stand to see it happen to other women. That’s how I decided to work in law enforcement.”

By the end of your speech, tears were streaming down your face again. You had to keep stopping during the story, the deeper you got into your past the more emotional you got. Reid stood up and pulled you standing to give you a tight hug. Obviously, he was speechless. The women he had been working with for several years had been hiding a secret like this from him. If she was able to hide this, what else was she hiding.

The hug was interrupted as you heard a light cough behind you, you saw the three other men looking at you with pitiful eyes. You had a feeling they had listened to your story you had just spilled. Aaron just opened his arms wide; you did not hesitate as you wrapped yourself into his warm embrace. You felt Gideon hug you next, cradled you. He had been such a father figure to you over the past few years, he rocked you in his arms.

As he released you, you turned to see Derek with his soft eyes looking at you. You barrelled into his arms. The tears spilling, once again.

“I love you,” Derek whispered in your ear, rocking you softly. He knew it comforted you,

He placed a kiss on your hair, whispering I love you over and over.

“Baby, you didn’t have to keep this from me, I love you, and nothing can change that,” He pulled you apart so he could look into your eyes. You held his hand that was placed on your shoulder pressing your lips on his knuckles still looking into his eyes.

“Now I know why you’re so good in bed,” Derek whispered in your ear, winking at you so none of your colleagues could hear you. You whacked his shoulder with the oversized sleeve of your jumper giggling.

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #derek morgan smut #derek morgan fluff #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #imagine #smut #fluff

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Tinsel: First Christmas (A Light Fingers Christmas Special pt 1/2)

Y/N and Diego spend their first holiday as a married couple. And maybe a few siblings drop in along the way. A/N: AKA an excuse for me to write cute domestic fluff for them. Word Count: 1756 Cross-posted to AO3: here

You leaned in, draping yourself over the back of the couch to wrap your arms around Diego’s shoulders and plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiled, turning to you and kissing you properly, until you pulled away, knowing him and his propensity for pulling you down into his lap and too busy for what that would lead to.

“I was thinking,” you said, eyes dancing. “That since this is our first year together and we’re all, ya know, married,” you dropped your voice so it was low and teasing and grinned as you said the word, “that we should do something for Christmas. Assuming you celebrate Christmas. Oh god, I married you and I don’t even know your religious beliefs or stance on denominational holidays…”

He reached up, gently removing one arm from around him so that he could lace his fingers through yours and kiss the inside of your wrist. The gesture had an instant calming effect, and you sighed, smiling softly at him.

“Dad was never one for holidays or any of that. But I can celebrate Christmas if you want,” he said, smiling back.

“I don’t want to force it on you. We could do Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or we don’t have to celebrate if--”

“Christmas sounds nice, baby. What do you want to do for it?”

“Well...we could decorate, maybe get a little tree for the corner. Exchange presents obviously. Have some people over for dinner?”

Diego waited expectantly, knowing that if he gave you a moment, you would continue to explain without prompt.

“I was thinking Patch, and Daniel obviously. And he’ll bring Amelia. And if you wanted we could try and reach out to your siblings?” You scrunched up your nose and gave him a half-hopeful, half-nervous questioning look.

“None of them will come,” he replied sourly, annoyed at them for risking ruining your excitement even though they hadn’t actually done anything.

“It still couldn’t hurt to offer right? If we can even get a hold of them? Christmas should be about family and hope and goodness. It might be the start of a new beginning?”

He sighed. “I don’t know about all of them, but…” he looked into your shining eyes, trying not to get distracted and dazzled by how his heart fluttered when you looked at him like that, “we can try.”

“Yay!” you cheered, swiftly giving him another kiss on the cheek before straightening up with a bounce, immediately shifting into planning mode.

Eventually you had decided on having the party the weekend before Christmas, hoping that everyone would have the time off and no other plans. Now, the night in question had finally come, and you felt your stomach twist in nervous knots. What if no one came? What if it all went horribly wrong? This might well be Diego’s first real Christmas, and you was terrified to ruin it.

Tracking down Diego’s siblings had been difficult to say the least. Allison was on the other side of the country but apologized, somewhat insincerely, for not being able to attend. Vanya had said she’d think about it, but that it might be awkward considering where she stood with the rest of them. Luther had huffed that their mother wasn’t available and hung up when you identified yourself as a friend of Diego’s, not even giving you a chance to extend the invitation, and then no one at the Umbrella Academy would answer after that. Klaus was a leaf on the wind, and though you had put feelers out through your connections, there was no definite answer to be had as to his location or possible interest.

Finding a place to host had been another challenge, since there was no way your apartment was big enough for even the reduced guestlist to be comfortable. It had taken a lot of cajoling and pleading, a few bribes (with both cash and an invitation), and a promise to never ask him for anything again, but eventually you convinced Al to let you hold dinner at The Fighting Lion. Which was a perfect space, but required more planning to get the food and decorations there.

But you had done everything you could, and decorated your home on top of that. And now it was time to see if it paid off.

“Relax,” Diego said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It looks perfect.”

You looked around at the twinkling rainbow lights and the strings of blue and silver garland, the fake tree you had set up in the center of the ring, and the red crepe-paper covered table and smiled.

“I did do a good job didn’t I?” you asked, snuggling into his side. The motion was enough to press the little button that caused his sweater to light up and start playing music.

“I can’t believe you actually bought and willingly wore this monstrosity,” you laughed, wincing at the very tinny instrumental cover of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in your ear.

“Isn’t a tacky sweater part of the whole experience?” he answered with a smirk.

You shook your head, jingle bell earrings mixing with your laughter in one of the most beautiful symphonies Diego had ever heard.

“Sure, but there’s tacky and then there’s that.” You stretched up to kiss his cheek. “It’s cute.”

A low whistle from near the door made them jump, both of them tensing before they realized it was just the surly gym owner.

“I’m almost impressed. Wouldn’t have recognized my own place,” he quipped.

One by one, you greeted your guests, first your brother and future sister-in-law and then Patch, as they arrived. Diego hung back, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, though Patch wouldn’t let him get away without a hug and Daniel shook his hand, firm but not unfriendly. He felt like he had no idea what to do at a Christmas party, and was overwhelmed by the strange need to draw you back to his side as if he could hide himself in you.

“I think that’s everyone, so we can get dinner started,” you announced once folks had settled in. “Diego, you wanna help me get the food?”

“Oh no, Y/N, let me,” Amelia said, standing up with a smile. “They were just about to start up a conversation on workout routines.”

“Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt that,” you laughed. “Sure, Amelia, that’d be great.”

Once the food was laid out, practically a feast for an army your brother teased, everyone gathered around and the conversation and laughter flowed like wine. You were pleasantly surprised to find Daniel and Diego getting along swimmingly and felt yourself relax, looking around at this strange little family the two of you had built.

Suddenly, as dinner was winding down but you had judged it wasn’t quite time for pie, the doors of the gym burst open, a chill wind whistling through. Patch tensed, hand instinctively going to her waist even though she was off-duty and unarmed. Diego slid a knife out of some holster you had managed to miss (because of course he couldn’t even come to a party without at least one knife). Daniel and Amelia looked at each other nervously. Al, several cups of eggnog in, didn't seem to notice the disturbance.

“I’ve got this,” you murmured, resting your hand over Diego’s briefly before standing and circling the ring. “I’m sure it’s nothing…”

You frowned in confusion at the sight that greeted you. Standing in the doorway was a tall, dark-haired man, totally out of place and fidgeting uncomfortably. He was dressed in clothing that seemed highly inappropriate for the weather or season: a black sheer top, leather pants that laced up the leg, and a scarf clearly more intended for fashion (though at least it was a festive green with threads of silver glitter she supposed) than warmth. Only his long, fur-lined overcoat gave the impression he was even aware it was wintertime and that the temperature hadn’t been above freezing in days.

“Hello?” you asked, frowning in confusion at the strange man. “Can I help you?”

“Hello,” he sing-songed with a wave of a hand that also said the word.

You squirmed slightly, feeling deeply uncomfortable under his shrewd gaze, clearly sizing you up. Then, with speed and strength far greater than should have been possible for his size and the restrictive nature of his clothing, he had crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you from the ground in...a hug? Involuntarily you shrieked in surprise, and footsteps echoed behind as everyone at the party came running.

“Klaus?!” Diego shouted angrily.

“Oh,” you breathed, suddenly understanding who this strange man was and feeling overwhelmed with joy. Somehow, the message had gotten to him, and he’d showed up. A true Christmas miracle. “It’s very nice to meet you, but would you mind...putting me down?”

Gently, Diego’s brother set you back on your feet, brushing the wrinkles out of your sleeves before you did the same to your skirt. Everyone else in the room relaxed, except your husband who was still glaring.

“You missed dinner, but I think there’s some left, and we were about to have pie,” you offered awkwardly, guiding the suddenly much more uncomfortable party back to the table.

“I love pie!” Klaus said excitedly, still looking at you like something amused him.

“What are you staring at?” Diego snapped at him.

“Nothing, bro,” Klaus drawled, shooting him a dirty look right back. “She’s just not what I expected. Although hearing my beloved brother had a wife at all...”

“It wasn’t exactly a phone call I expected from my baby sister either,” Daniel chimed in with a chuckle.

“Was I the only one that saw it coming?” Patch asked, laughing at your shocked and mildly horrified expression.

Introductions were made and the conversation resumed, with Klaus as a fascinating new addition, chiming in almost at random with a story for any topic. Somehow, by the time you had finished slicing the pie, he had charmed Daniel enough that he’d offered the other man a business card and said to call the next time he got arrested.

You passed around the little plates of dessert and moved back to your chair, but Diego reached out, catching you by the waist and pulling you into his lap instead. You laughed, happily settling in there.

“This was pretty great,” he mumbled into your neck between bites. “Thank you for a perfect first Christmas, Y/N.”

#Light Fingers #Christmas special #there might be a part two that I'll do after Christmas #that gets a little heavier and more plot-involved #canonical Christmas special #fluff #Diego Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic

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sittingoverheredreaming · 3 years

Text

Same Prompt Party- Rei

Like a Lion, Like a (Sacrificial) Lamb

This is a 2,500 word prequel to my first two prompt party fics. My idea was probably a little too big for what I could pull off, but I hope you enjoy!

__________

“Looks like someone’s on the prowl,” Mina said, leaning against one of the shrine walls in the morning sun, coffee in hand.

“Shut up.” Rei handed her a broom. “Get to work or get out of here.” It was the weekend, Mina couldn’t just laze about. “And get changed, if you’re staying.”

Mina waved her off. “I’ll be out of sight before anyone comes, don’t worry. Grandpa has me selling charms later, I’m just waking myself up enough to get some studying in before that.”

Rei humphed and turned on her heel, but she felt the twinge of sorrow she felt anytime she was presented with Mina taking college seriously, the same twinge that had led her to abandon all her better judgement and allow Mina to live at the shrine while attending university. She hadn’t expected Mina would go to college at all, much less put real effort into it. Mina had joked that it was to give her an extra edge, a cool air, when she finally did become an idol, but Rei saw through the classes she was taking. Politics, law, languages-- not just her easy A in English but Mandarin and Spanish and at least one other Rei could not recognize. Whatever explanation she gave for each-- Well I’m going to have international fans!-- she wasn’t preparing for a life of celebrity. She was preparing to be second-in-command of the world.

Rei was sure Mina could sense Crystal Tokyo’s approach the same as she did. Not something she Saw, but something that she felt, like it was a lion hiding in the grass behind her, waiting to pounce. If she could only see it, she could face it head on, as was the Rei Hino way, blazing forward until she could bend the future towards a shape she liked better.

“And where are you going?” Mina called after her as she started down the stairs to the road. Rei didn’t answer. If she told Mina about her planned reconnaissance, Mina would want in on it. Rei did not have the time for self reflection on whether she thought Mina would ruin it or if she just wanted to shoulder it alone.

And when she arrived at the steps of the Tsukino house, she realized she also had not reflected on an excuse for being there. Usagi had her own home with Mamoru now. Ikuko would be happy to see her, Rei was sure, but still she would ask--

“Rei, I haven’t seen you in so long! What’s brought you here?” Ikuko smiled in the doorway.

Rei opened her mouth, then shut it, no lie forming on her tongue.

“I asked her to help me with a project for school,” Chibiusa said from somewhere inside, hardly missing a beat. “Stupid Usagi says she’s too busy.

“Oh, how wonderful. Have you had breakfast? I can make you something!”

Rei said she had, a lie coming easily now that it didn’t matter. Chibiusa led her up to the room that had once been Usagi’s. It still had a good bit of Usagi’s things in it, organized like they never had been while she had lived there. Rei had to look hard to see what Chibiusa had brought down from the loft to make it hers-- a few photos of Hotaru and Momo, a stack of books that weren’t Usagi’s manga, an extra pillow on the bed.

“You want to ask about Crystal Tokyo, don’t you?” Chibiusa said as soon as the door was closed.

“It’s coming soon.”

Chibiusa nodded, face grim. She looked less like a little girl everyday, it seemed. Rei knew she was already studying for highschool entrance exams, however unlikely it seemed that she’d be able to stay in this time for them. “You can’t stop it.”

“Why not?”

Chibiusa rolled her eyes and sat on her bed. “If you could, you would have the first time. None of you would have let all the destruction that leads to it happen.”

“But now we know it’s coming. And we have you.”

“You think I can tell you things you aren’t supposed to know?” Chibiusa leaned back and shut her eyes. “It’s taboo.”

“Pluto’s done plenty of taboo things.”

“But you don’t see her stopping any of this.”

“Don’t you want--” Rei stopped herself. Would Chibiusa want to stop Crystal Tokyo? It was her home, her birthplace and birthright.

“Of course I want to stop it,” Chibiusa whispered. “I’m here. If I was born here…” She shook her head. “But there’s no way for you to make that happen.”

“There’s always a way.”

Rei left with nothing, but she was nothing if not persistent. The next time Rei came, Chibiusa let slip that the battle that birthed Crystal Tokyo occurred in early spring, and on another day she mentioned how the Silver Crystal had changed the Earth itself into its likeness to draw in the power Usagi had needed to heal everyone in the aftermath.

“That sort of healing changes things,” Chibiusa said, seemingly forgetting she’d said it was taboo. “Pluto said she thinks that’s why you all are so different from now.”

“Then just have to make sure we get through unscathed.”

“You can’t.”

“But knowing has to mean something. There’s never a future that can’t be changed.” Rei clenched her fists. “There’s no way I’m just letting this happen.”

“There’s no way you’re stopping it either.” Chibiusa crossed her arms against and leaned against the wall. “You can try all you want, or you can enjoy the time before it happens.”

“You said there’s hardly any time left.”

“Yeah, I did.” She looked murderous for a moment, but then her face softened. “You should take me for ice cream. You used to do that all the time.”

Rei nearly snapped that they were in no position to do anything of the sort, but she caught herself in time. The urge to scoop Chibiusa into her arms like she was small again overtook her anger. “I thought you were too old and cool to get ice cream with us.”

“Only Usagi.” Chibiusa stuck out her tongue. “She’d embarrass me for sure.”

Rei had to smile. “That’s true.”

She took Chibiusa to one of the many ice cream shops that had been the front for an evil scheme and then stuck around. Chibiusa stood on her toes to order from the ice cream case. She was taller than Usagi now, but only just.

“How’s living with Mina?” she asked when they’d gotten their ice cream and taken it to a bench outside.

“Don’t even ask.”

“So you haven’t kissed her yet?”

“What!?” Rei nearly dropped-- or nearly threw-- her ice cream. If it had been Usagi and not Chibiusa, she might have thrown it at her. “I don’t--! What do you mean YET?”

Chibiusa laughed. “Darn, I bet Hotaru you would before everything goes down.”

“I don’t even… Mina? Really?” Rei shook her head and stabbed her spoon into her scoop of ice cream, leaving deep crevice lines across it. Her face was warm, and that was absurd. She refused to think about it.

“You haven’t told her you’re trying to stop this either, then, have you?” Chibiusa kicked her feet up and down. “Didn’t you promise after the last time you had visions of the end of the world you wouldn’t keep these things a secret?”

“Well, I haven’t had a vision, and it’s not the end of the world. And,” Rei pointed at Chibiusa with her spoon, “you’ve hardly told me anything.”

Chibiusa pointed right back, for a moment the spitting image of her mother. “You’re just trying to save everyone from even worrying about it.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Rei set her ice cream aside. “She’s already worrying. She says she’s not, but she is.” She tilted her head back and stared up at the sky. “I want to fight this alone for her. For everyone. I know my own power, I know that if I can just find the right way to do it, I can take down whatever’s coming, and then everyone can live a life they choose. And if I can do that, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’d yell at anyone else trying to do the same thing.”

“No one else is me.”

Chibiusa made a sound that might have been a laugh and might have been a humph of annoyance and might have been both. “I guess I can’t argue that point.” She took a bite of her ice cream and sighed. “I’m starting to see why Usagi finds you so annoying.”

“Hey!” Rei tapped her fist between Chibiusa’s pig tails. Chibiusa stuck out her tongue, then hopped up off the bench and danced out of reach, laughing. Rei wasn’t sure if it was her own age or worry that held her back from giving chase.

And then, only weeks later, as the weather turned warm and green buds appeared on the trees, the cataclysm struck. The sky went dark and the air tasted of copper and a great distorted shadow brought forth monsters the likes of which they’d never fought from a deep crack in the earth.

Mina gave orders, and Rei ignored them all to fight forward towards the source alone. She would stop this. She had to stop this. She blazed through the hordes of beasts, even as she grew aware that they were overwhelming the others behind her. She just had to get through and end it before it was too much. She could do it. She had too.

Rei almost didn’t hear Usagi’s scream over the hiss of the monsters and the crackle of her fire, but she felt it in her bones. A jolt of fear shocked cold from her fingertips to her heart. Usagi’s scream persisted. Rei was not getting through fast enough. She called on every spark of power she had to push forward and take down as many of the monsters as she could. She was a monster of her own, a great beast of fire, unstoppable in her hunt. The monsters fell by the dozens around her, coming in greater numbers, dying in greater numbers, the closer she got to their source.

Still she did not burn them all. For every three that fell charred against the ground another two escaped smoldering, and others still skirted the range of her attacks.

Somewhere far behind her, Usagi stopped screaming. For one warm, beautiful second Rei thought she had done good enough, that the others might have been safe, and then the cold certainty that they were not settled in. Something inside her, Mars, her own psychic sense, she couldn’t be sure, knew that Usagi had been struck down, not dead but nearly, and any of the others that were not down yet would be soon.

Rei charged forward, but she knew-- Chibiusa had been right. She could not stop this. The great chasm the beasts poured from was in sight before her. Was it the same chasm the first crystal towers would rise from, when Usagi called on the Silver Crystal with the last of her strength? The shadow that had struck down from the sky had merged with the earth around the fissure, making it crackle with power that surged as she approached. It threw her back. The monsters absorbed it, growing immune to her fire.

A cold washed over her limbs. Her attacks weakened, more of her strength drawn for each one. She sank to her knees. She was going to fall, and awake as something that wasn’t quite herself, in a world that wasn’t quite her own. Rei clenched her fists against the ground. The shadows grew darker around her.

“I told you you couldn’t stop it.”

At once, a light appeared. Chibiusa stood at Rei’s side, one hand on Rei’s shoulder, the other holding her own Silver Crystal, using its power to drive back the beasts. Her hair blew wildly in the wind, her eyes were locked on the chasm.

Rei reached up to her. “Chibiusa…”

“But I can.” She glanced down at Rei and smiled. “I’ve been planning this for a while. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She took her hand off Rei’s shoulder and pulled her old Luna-P ball out of thin air. “You’d have tried to stop me.”

The exhaustion was creeping into Rei’s mind, she couldn’t put together what Chibiusa was going to do. “I’ll still stop you,” she said anyway.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Chibiusa nudged her with her foot, and she fell over. Rei could not find the strength to get back up. “I know the life I want to choose, Rei.” Luna-P changed in her hand, forming the sharp, heavy shape of a gun.

“What are you…?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to visit anymore after this, I don’t know if I’ll even…” She trailed off, and stepped toward the chasm. “Don’t tell Usagi, okay? Or Hotaru. Hotaru knows I might not come back, since I’m supposed to be born within a few years, and that’s enough, I think.”

She took another step. The earth groaned as it opened further, the crack spreading towards her.

Rei forced herself up onto her elbows. “Watch out-!”

“I know. Don’t worry.” Another few steps, another groan as the ground split further. Chibiusa had the same air of calm Usagi got when she used the crystal. Rei felt a compulsive trust in her even as her heart beat wild with fear.

“Thank you, Rei, for trying to do this. And for the ice cream.”

The ground beneath Chibiusa opened to swallow her. As she fell, she threw the crystal into the air. A bang sounded barely a second before the earth closed, and the Silver Crystal shattered. For a moment the shards hung in the air as though frozen, and then a blinding white light exploded out from them. Heat and wind rushed over Rei, so overwhelming that she lost awareness of even her exhaustion, so intense that she thought the world might be ending after all.

And then it cleared, and she was in the middle of a Tokyo park on an early spring day, beneath a clear blue sky. Her sailor uniform was gone, replaced by the clothes she’d put on that morning. She felt none of the battle weariness that had plagued her moments before, she felt perfectly fine, except… there was something missing. There was something cold and empty where there once had been fire.

Rei swallowed hard and looked behind her. The others were sitting up from the ground, entirely unscathed. Mina met her eyes, and even from a distance Rei could see that she felt it too. Their powers, the part of their soul that had housed them, were gone.

“Is it… is it over?” Usagi asked, tears in her eyes as Rei approached. “Did we win?”

Rei sat on the grass next to her, remembering the last thing Chibiusa had asked of her. She could never tell Usagi the cost. “Yeah,” she said, forcing a smile. “We did.”

#sam writes

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Murphy’s Law (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy/crack

Summary: Bakugou just wants a peaceful date with you and promises to tone down his aggression, but things don’t always go his way.

Word count: 2,206

Inspo: This tik tok

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: I absolutely love writing these comedy/crack style plots, they’re so fun! They just fit so well with Bakugou’s character, what can I say?

Starting next post, I’ll finally be posting some spicy content ;) Not nsfw exactly, but I’d give it a PG-13 rating if I had to.

Anyway, its 3 am and I’m about to pass out. Enjoy~!

"You smell like...cherries?" Bakugou takes a deeper whiff of the crook of my neck. "No, wait... Vanilla?"

I bite my lip, trying not to chuckle too hard and disturb his adorable sleuthing.

"I got it," he moves up to stare me right in the eyes for my answer. "Coconut." When I nod, he smirks victoriously. "I knew it." He peppers my face and neck in soft kisses, his grip on my waist tightening. "Admit it, your boyfriend is amazing."

I tilt my head and scrunch my eyes. "You're...okay."

His grip turns into erratic twitches as he tickles me. "Just okay, huh?"

My breath is stolen by laughter. "Okay! You're amazing!" I curse his knowledge of my ticklish spots.

Bakugou ceases his mischievous torture and returns to our original cuddling position: his one arm on top of my waist and the other enveloping my shoulders as I rest on his chest. We bask in the silence of each other's warmth and breathing, the faint sound of his heartbeat thudding in my ear.

His warm fingers draw patterns against exposed skin near the hem of my shirt. "We haven't been out on a proper date for a while, we should go this weekend," he proposes out of the blue.

I mull over the idea. We've both been busy with training, and we both mutually agree that we prefer spending more intimate time with each other like this than being out on a formal date. "What brought this up?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It's just a random thing, no big deal," he snorts, trying to pass it off casually, but I know him well enough to know better.

"You saw Todoroki taking Midoriya out, didn't you?"

I hear the clinking of his teeth as he clenches his jaw, taking that as a positive response.

I sigh, loosing draping my arm onto his chest. "Katsuki-"

"I just wanna make you feel special, okay?" he blurts out, terse but affectionate in his own way. "I don't want you to think I don't care about you or that you're missing out on things other couples do. I'm your man, you deserve more."

My fingers softly trail up his arm. In other words, he feels like he's not doing enough in our relationship. I peck his lips. "Okay, let's do it. But let's not go somewhere too fancy. I don't feel like dressing up and all that. Besides, you're too...excited for those quiet places."

His eyebrows furrow. "Whaddaya mean by that?"

I want to chuckle at his defiance. "You get very easily riled up. Sometimes, you just need to tone it down a notch."

Though he pouts, he mutters, "I'll be on my best behavior, promise."

The weekend finally rolls around. The Sun shines brightly, there isn't a cloud in the sky, the temperature is brisk, nothing could possibly go wrong.

Bakugou agreed to meet at noon so we could go out for lunch at this cute outdoor restaurant downtown. I dress in a somewhat-fancy-somewhat-casual grey sweater, black leather pants, and Chelsea boots. While I'm deciding on what accessories to style with my outfit, there's a knock at my door. I glance at the clock, only then realizing it's 12:30, and rush to the door.

Bakugou stands in the doorway, looking like an absolute snack. For some reason, he's dressed in a crisp white button down, fitted black slacks down above his ankles held up by black suspenders, and brown dress shoes. Slack jawed, I barely have a second to comment on how amazing he looks before he storms into my room and I catch a whiff of his cologne, wanting to shower him with compliments.

"Katsuki-"

"I woke up late, I'm sorry," he growls, throwing a black strip of fabric around his neck and making a beeline for my full length mirror. He's trying to knot a tie around his neck, I realize. "My alarm didn't go off for some stupid reason, and I wanted to wake up early to get you flowers before coming here. This date's already ruined and I'm not even ready- AND THIS STUPID TIE JUST WON'T TIE PROPERLY!" Clearly, he's already worked up and his tie won't cooperate with him.

At first, it's cute watching him struggle, but I realize he's genuinely bothered by this entire situation. I wrap my arms around his torso from behind. "Babe, it's fine. We're not in a hurry, just take your time." I assure him softly. "I was just finishing up myself."

At the sound of my voice, my boyfriend releases his tension in a sigh. "You're right. I promised I'll be calmer today." He finally finishes tying his tie and smooths it over.

I smile and kiss his cheek to comfort him. "You look so handsome."

A light blush colors Bakugou's cheeks as he runs his hands through his hair. "I did it for you, dummy," he admits in the softest voice.

We stare at each other in the mirror fondly for a moment, and I ruffle his hair. "Let's go, whenever you're ready."

As we're getting ready to leave the dorms, Kaminari and Mineta are playing some sort of weird game in the hallway with Mineta's purple spheres where Kaminari tries to hit them with his lightning.

One of them flies past Bakugou's head, just missing it, and he almost goes off. "I swear if one of those things hits me in the face, you idiots are-!" Cutting himself off at the end, he takes a deep breath. "I'm calm, I'm calm. Let's just get out of here."

It's cute watching him struggle to stay calm for my sake.

And it doesn't get any easier. Somewhere during the walk over to the restaurant, the sprinkler system turns on in someone's lawn and managed to almost spritz Bakugou's crisp outfit. He says nothing and holds in his complaints, like a true trooper. The next thing to go wrong is the train getting delayed. Such a small nuisance is too much for the boy, as evidenced by the wild tapping of his foot on the floor to the point where some of the other passengers stare at him.

"If I could use my quirk, I would've just blasted us out of here to the restaurant," he mutters in my ear.

I squeeze his hand in mine. "You're doing a great job, babe."

The smile that appears on his face is absolute bliss.

After the train finally moves and we reach our stop, we make our way through the city hand in hand, talking only to each other.

"You've out-dressed me, Katsuki. Where did these clothes even come from?"

"My mom always told me a formal outfit is a staple," the boy shrugs in response. "I just didn't want to wear the jacket because it's still daytime."

In the back of my head, I realize that Bakugou seems to have an unconscious eye for dressing presentable, he just chooses to wear joggers and a T-shirt all the time.

"I just figured we were going to a nice place and I wanted to look good, you know?" he continues. "Even though everything's kinda gone to hell so far today."

My heart melts for how hard he's trying, and I decide to hug his arm for comfort. "You're doing amazing. I'm having fun just being with you so far."

In return, he kisses my forehead. "The date's not over yet, we still need to eat." He takes out his phone. "I just need to make sure we're going-"

We collide into someone who's not watching where they're going, and, unfortunately, Bakugou's phone gets knocked out of his hand. Almost in slow motion, we watch as the poor device crashes against the concrete face down. I can feel his grip on my hand tighten as he growls and picks up the phone, hoping for the best, only to realize there are now spidery cracks across the surface.

I hold my breath for the inevitable outburst, which doesn't come. A vein pops in Bakugou's neck and a muscle jumps in his jaw, but no sound escapes his lips except an extended, harsh exhale. "Can I check it on your phone, babe?" he asks through clenched teeth, and I offer to be navigator myself out of pity.

When we finally get to the restaurant, we sit down and have our meal in peace. The blond seems to relax as food slowly fills his belly and we carry light conversation with each other.

"You finished all the rolls already?!" I guffaw, covering my face to keep myself from being too loud, "Were you that hungry?"

"I told you I got up late!" he growls, ripping off a piece from the last roll, "I haven't eaten yet all day."

I take his hand from across the table. "And you deserve it, with the day you've had so far."

Smooth as a criminal, he kisses my fingers gently, "At least you're here. But you shouldn't give me your hand so easily, I might bite you because of how hungry I am." He jokingly starts play biting my hand, making me laugh again. And just for a moment, our eyes catch each other's, sharing our affections wordlessly.

Until something - or someone - crashes into our table.

Both of us get to our feet instinctively and inspect the damage. The person who had crashed our table is a male waiter we recognized moving around since we've been here.

"That man is a villain! He's trying to rob the place!" one of the staff announces from across the room.

The man slowly tries standing on his feet, catching onto the closest thing to help himself. Which happened to be Bakugou's pant leg. Looking up, the sorry villain realizes he's just sealed his fate.

Bakugou's face is crimson with impatient rage, bottled up from the entire day and ready to explode onto the nearest victim.

"What. The actual. Fuck?" he murmurs from deep in his throat down at the villain, who's eyes are widening as he registers he might actually be facing a devil. The boy's breathing gets ragged. "You have exactly," he pulls and undoes the knot around his neck in one swift movement, not breaking his malicious glare on the villain, "Two seconds," he throws the tie aside and slides his suspenders off his shoulders, "Before I blast you into oblivion," the top buttons of his shirt are undone.

"I-I'm so sorry I interrupted your date," the villain's eyes widen as he slides backwards into the broken table. "Y-You two must've been having a good time-"

"Damn RIGHT we were!" Bakugou bellows, sleeved already folded and he's pushing them up past his elbows away from his hands. "Now you're gonna DIE!"

As hot as it was watching my angry boyfriend slightly undress, I don't want him getting in trouble doing something illegal. I grasp his taut elbow, avoiding his forearm. "Katsuki, just leave this for the pros to deal with, don't get yourself in trouble."

He slowly calms his breathing, but still eyes the man with a murderous glint as we back away from the situation.

We silently eat our sandwiches on a park bench. Bakugou's gnawing and mashing his food to get his anger out, his tie hanging out of his pocket since he couldn't be bothered to re-tie it around his neck, or readjust his outfit.

I quietly admire his rugged appearance and let out a small chuckle.

He shoots me a look. "What're you laughing at?"

"I'm just thinking how much better you look when you're all undone like this," I remark, finishing the last of my own sandwich, "You looked too uptight before, this is way more casual."

My comment is met with a smirk and a huff as he uses one arm to pull me so close to him, I might as well be on his lap. "Is that your way of saying I look hot all angry like this?"

"Maybe." With that, I steal the last bite from his sandwich.

Bakugou sets the wrapper aside and hugs my waist with both hands, setting me properly in front of him so I can look him straight on. "I'm sorry I lost my cool like that. I promised I'd stay calm for you today, but nothing even went right all day and then that mess happened."

His ashamed expression makes me plant a quick kiss on his lips, allowing a light blush to appear in its place. "You're amazing, Katsuki. You've had such crappy luck all day and you managed to hold in your anger for most of it. But, while I appreciate the effort, you really didn't have to." I wrap my arms around his neck affectionately. "I love you and all your hotheaded screaming, you dope, no fancy dates or rules needed. Don't feel like you need to do more for me when I just need you."

A heart-melting smile spreads across Bakugou's face as he rests our foreheads together. "I don't deserve you, babe, you're the best I could ever ask for." Our lips join together in a sweet kiss for a moment.

I break it with a chuckle. "Honestly though, I really would've liked to see you smash that guy's face in."

"Me too!"

#Bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou imagine #crack #bakugou scenario #gender neutral reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha fanfiction

644 notes · View notes

sazc94 · 3 years

Text

If These Sheets Were States

Chapter 2

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: A bit of violence, swearing lots of sickly sweet fluff.

A/N Anything Blue, Bold and Italic is a flashback,

Chapter 3

…Collisions of a finer love, I'd kill for one more way To tell you how you make me better every day

22:30 New York

You padded out of your en-suite into the bedroom your fluffy warm towel wrapped around you, your hair was hanging loose around your shoulders, blow dried just enough it would not soak your pillow in the night but still slightly damp. Steve may be an Avenger, but he was also pretty good with his hands. He had ripped out your old bathroom after a year of dating, he had completely done it up installing a new bath with jets, a shower that had different settings. He had done it up with help from Bucky and Thor when you were back in England visiting one of your closest friends for their wedding. Steve had been unable to attend with you as he was on a mission with the Avengers when you had left. The mission had ended early when a suspect had made a stupid mistake allowing the Avengers to sweep in and capture him. As a result of the mission ending early Steve had decided to surprise you with the bathroom renovations. You chucked your hair up into a messy bun so you could do your skincare routine, grabbed one of Steve’s T-shirts and a pair of boxers from his draw. You had lots of cute sets of PJs some a bit more lingerie than PJs but as you’d had one hell of a day and were missing your boyfriend you decided to wear these as it made him feel closer. “F.R.I.D.A.Y engage intruder alarm” you said “Alarm engaged miss L/N” the AI replied. You grabbed the giant stitch plus sat on the chair in the corner of your room. Somehow it always smelt like Steve. He hid his aftershave whilst he was on missions because he knew you would always use it up when he was away spraying it on your pillows etc. Unbeknownst to you he had worked with Bruce in Starks lab on putting a scent disperser of his aftershave in your Stich this one slightly more high-tech then ones you could get in Build A Bear. He had enlisted Natasha’s sewing skills to ensure the seam wasn’t noticeable.

It was Natasha who had introduced you to Steve. Natasha had been undercover in your old Law firm in the UK investigating some ties between your old boss and Hydra. During her 6-month mission she had gotten close to you as a way to gain access to your boss. The pair of you ended up hitting it off as friends outside of work. She was actually the only one there for you when your mum died suddenly. It turned the whole company came tumbling down after it turned out at least two of the named partners of your old law firm had ties to Hydra so the whole company collapsed. Natasha returned to NYC but stayed in touch. After a year She got word of the opening at Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law (due to ties she would not disclose) she told Matt Murdock all about you and sent across your CV.

“I don’t know Nat. I mean its NYC I would have to relocate my whole life across the world for a job” you said. “Listen Y/N, you said to me yourself just last month how the pay in this new job is almost half of what it was at Lawson LLP, you hate working there. Your ex-boyfriend Tim is engaged, and you don’t have any family ties. This could be a new start at an amazing job in an amazing city with an even more amazing Best friend” She smirked. Natasha had face timed you after Matt had informed her that he was offering you the job after you had wowed in the interview (even if it was by zoom). “Besides Wanda wants to meet you too. And you know your accent will get all the boys” Natasha said. Natasha made a point, there wasn’t really much keeping you in England. You didn’t talk to your dad and your mum had been cremated, her ashes scattered in one of her favourite natural beauty spots. You let out a deep breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding. “Okay, okay you win. Ill accept the job” you laughed “But, you have to help me find an apartment and go to the viewings for me and show me them by video chat” you said. Natasha agreed and 6 short weeks later you arrived at JFK airport greeted by Natasha and two of her Avenger “colleagues” Thor and Wanda.

“Y/N this is Thor, and you’ve spoken to Wanda” Natasha said. You were not prepared to meet Wanda let alone Thor, so you just stood there like a deer in headlights. Wanda, oblivious to your anxiety over being in the presence of a literal god, threw herself at you in a welcoming hug. “Y/N!!! its so good to finally meet you in person” Wanda exclaimed. Natasha informed you she was throwing you a small and lowkey welcome to your new home party the coming weekend where you would be able to meet some more of her team, Steve, Bucky and Clint were all intrigued by the infamous Y/N Natasha spoke so highly off so were more than happy to come to Natasha’s little get together.

“Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y, play if These sheets were states by All Time Low would you?” I’m lost in empty pillow talk again

You crawled into bed, whilst All Time Low played, you always found yourself coming back to this one song when Steve was on a long mission, you smiled to yourself knowing that Steve didn’t really understand your love for Pop Punk, but you had played this song enough that he had started to learn the lyrics. You took out your messy bun, turned out the lights and curled up with your kindle and personalized, Steve smelling Stitch.

22:00 Texas

“Well, I think that went about as well as anyone could have hoped for. Miss Lewis, nice to make your acquaintance, but do you mind telling me what the fuck was so important to fury that I had to leave Pepper and Morgan for almost 8 weeks? Said Tony. “Oh sure, I don’t mind, but Mr Fury told me not to tell anyone and he kind of scares me, when someone pisses him off” Darcy Replied. The mission was a success. Clint had hightailed it out of there and now Steve and the rest of the mission crew were on the Quinjet. Steve made his way to the front where Natasha was piloting. “Hey Nat, thank god that we managed to get out of there relatively unscathed” Steve said. “You’re only saying that because Y/N can hold a grudge, she almost killed you last time she thought something had happened to me on a mission I wasn’t even on” Nat chuckled. “Oh god, don’t remind me” Laughed Steve. He thought you were mad when he did something reckless, but when it came to Natasha you were fiercely protective of the Avenger who had essentially changed your life, everyone found it funny that you felt the need to protect a former Russian spy. One who was more than capable of taking care of herself, and half the team.

#steve rogers #captain america #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x yn #avengers #captain america fluff #captain america x reader

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offtopicoverload · 3 years

Text

Ten Years Later

I did it again.

Here's a oneshot based on @bubblybabynailpolish's list of hcs of where the Season 2 Islanders are by the ten year reunion because I love it. This is pretty cheesy, but it’s what I’m here for

Marisol x MC (Dahlia)

~6k words I got carried away

Marisol left the Villa in near tears, everything she worked for and everyone she’d grown to care about gone in a single terrible instant, and it hadn’t even been her fault that time. She hadn’t been unwilling to commit or said something stupid, she hadn’t gotten distant or broken it off because she got nervous. She had been on her best behaviour, been the best partner she could be just to prevent something awful from happening.

But it still did. It still happened and it still ripped her heart from her chest and stomped on it mercilessly, crushing the mass of muscle and tissue into a pulp on the Villa’s lawn. She tried not to break down, to lose herself when cameras were trained on her, but the second she was free, she snapped and sobbed and drenched her sleeves in tears and snot while Bobby tried to calm her down.

They were sitting in her hotel room, drinking all the alcohol in the minibar and mourning their failures in the Villa. Mourning Bobby’s inability to find a relationship that wasn’t platonic and mourning Marisol’s failed, shattered, disastrous relationship. A relationship she actually thought would work out, thought had a bright future, thought was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. But she also thought it would all turn out to be a crazy, unbelievable dream that’d disappear as she woke up alone in her flat like any other day.

Only it wasn’t just a happy-go-lucky dream, it was a nightmare, a horror movie that took forever to get to the action, a slowly building fire that hit something important and sparked it to life, blowing up an entire complex in one go. It was her worst nightmare come to life, and just as horrifying as she always imagined.

Dahlia had cheated on her.

Dahlia had cheated on her with Elisa. She kissed her on the roof terrace and almost broke down when she told Marisol that night. Her voice cracked and her eyes sparkled with tears as Marisol stared blankly, not a single coherent thought in her head as everything fell apart in her hands, everything that was so close to being perfect.

Then the anger came, the frustration. It wasn’t even Marisol’s fault this time, there was nothing she did wrong, so how could it just collapse like this? That wasn’t fair, she’d done everything right, she didn’t do anything major so horribly wrong that Dahlia needed to escape. Which left the only answer: she just was wrong. She was wrong for Dahlia, she was wrong for Graham, she was wrong for Rocco. Even if the latter two took her some time to figure out why she’d run from them so quickly, she soon understood that she was wrong for all of them. She was wrong, in general.

She wasn’t Elisa, with her followers and confidence. She didn’t like stupid jokes, she didn’t like boats, she didn’t like travelling, she didn’t like cranes, she didn’t like golf, she didn’t like anything they did. And she didn’t pretend she did, she didn’t care to humour them, she didn’t want to waste her time on pointless conversations and discussions.

And so, they drank. And drank and drank until Bobby was delirious and Marisol’s heart was too numb to hurt for a little while, and then they drank some more. Marisol thought her skull was going to split in half the next day, but she didn’t care. She had to get through the plane home before she could waste more time caring.

---

Ten years later, and Marisol gets an invite she really wants to decline. Not necessarily because she doesn’t want to go - although, she doesn’t - but because she’s got work to do and Saturdays are date night and she doesn’t like travelling and she’s supposed to take her nephew to see a movie he’s been excited about for months that Sunday and - okay, she just doesn’t want to go.

It’s not like she even kept in touch with everybody. At most, she’ll chat with Bobby when he reaches out, or catch up with Priya if she’s in Manchester, maybe FaceTime with Chelsea when the blonde’s on one of her kicks to chat with someone random.

She was too caught up in school and work to bother with most of them after the finale, and the rest she wasn’t exactly on good terms with. She’d gotten in fights with most of the girls, dumped Graham, moved on from Rocco maybe too quickly, never even clicked with Gary or Ibrahim, and Dahlia… Dahlia had cheated on her.

So not the best terms, no. And Marisol isn’t very eager to reopen old wounds just to see people that are all happier and better off than her. Hope’s absolutely loaded, Lottie’s an actual celebrity, Gary somehow has a bunch of kids, and Dahlia? Dahlia’s actually not done much, stayed at the foundation and hasn’t managed to hold onto a relationship, but she never wanted to do much in the first place, so maybe that does count as wildly successful.

Marisol drops her phone to the counter, the email still open on the screen and frowns at the device, her foot tapping against the kitchen tile. She huffs, turns away from the counter, and yanks open the fridge, scavenging for something to eat; it’s why she came in the kitchen in the first place.

“Everything all right?” James’ voice calls into the kitchen, his head peeking around the corner with furrowed eyebrows.

Marisol turns, meeting his bright blue eyes, “Yep,” she forces a smile. “Everything’s fine.”

He forces a smile back, she can tell he either doesn’t believe her or isn’t that interested, “Alright, then,” and turns, disappearing further into the flat.

Marisol sighs, her eyes falling shut as she pulls in a steadying breath. She grabs yoghurt out of the fridge, turns and drops it on the counter and pulls out a spoon from the silverware drawer. She slides into a kitchen stool, pulling her phone closer and staring at the invitation again.

She really doesn’t want to go.

---

She went. She’s here. At the reunion. With the other ex-Islanders. And their families. In London.

She’s here in the closest replica she could find to the outfit she wore at her second to last recoupling, the one where she picked - actually, that doesn’t matter. It’s just one of her favourites, a sharp suit with nothing underneath the blazer.

She steps inside all on her lonesome, feeling out of place as the other early guests chat and drink and mingle. She fidgets with her outfit, fixes her hair neurotically, pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She starts reaching for her phone to give her something to do just as she’s accosted, arms slipping around her neck from the side.

Chelsea chatters excitedly in her ear, hugging her tightly before pulling her further into the venue before Marisol can even get a word in, her grip on Marisol’s arm like a bear trap, biting and tearing her skin apart as her nerves simultaneously destroy her organs. Chelsea drags her over to Lottie, Hannah, and Priya mingling together near the bar before striding over to it, Hannah’s arm looped through Lottie’s as she beams goofily at something the goth said.

“Hey, babes!” Priya chirps, wrapping her arms around Marisol and squeezing tight, air-kissing her cheeks as she pulls away with a wide grin. “Ohmigod, I missed you! It’s been too long since you came up to Manchester!”

“Yeah, definitely,” Marisol smiles back, whiplash shaking her as she finally finds her voice, her hands gripping Priya’s forearms as she meets her eyes.

“So… you’ve been up to some stuff, huh?” Lottie’s voice draws their eyes, a warm smile on her lips as she glances to the ring on Marisol’s finger.

She raises her hand with a blush, an extravagant engagement ring sitting below her knuckle, “Oh, uh, yeah.”

Chelsea returns and passes Marisol a drink, still bouncing on her toes as she glances around the group excitedly. “Is he your prince charming?” Hannah chimes, smiling wide as Lottie chuckles beside her.

Marisol laughs, “I guess so. Don’t really believe in that, though,” she shrugs.

“Tell us about him, babes, you’ve barely told me anything,” Priya encourages, nudging Marisol’s shoulder with her own.

She laughs again, “Alright, okay. His name is James and he’s in law, too. He’s really nice and all that, and I kind of hated him at first but, y’know, here we are,” she forces an amused smile. She really did hate him back then.

“Is he coming tonight?” Hannah leans forward, eager to learn. That first day in the Villa may have been ten years ago, with countless triumphs and failures scattered throughout the decade, but Hannah’s somehow gotten right back to her wide-eyed, excitable self. It’s kind of nice, Marisol decides, that she was able to find herself again.

She smiles gently at the excited redhead, “He didn’t come. He’s still in Portsmouth.”

“Aw, boo,” Lottie jeers. “Should’ve dragged him along,” she sips her drink.

Marisol’s dark hair shifts, glinting in the light with a halo reflecting off her as she shakes her head, “He had some work to do this weekend and he hates putting it off.”

Lottie’s features shift in sympathy, “Don’t tell me you just found a male you, Marisol.”

She laughs again, already feeling like she’s laughed more since she got here than in months, maybe years. She just works too much, but she loves it, she rationalises. “Okay, we’re a little similar, but it’s not that bad.”

Lottie doesn’t appear convinced, but she doesn’t get the chance to comment further, “What did I miss?” Shannon steps up to the group with a smile, a drink already in her hand.

“Marisol was just telling us about her fiancé,” Lottie winks to the woman in question, urging her to spill.

“Not that much to say, honestly, we’re pretty basic,” she shrugs her shoulders and sips her drink.

“I’m sure Marisol’s life is plenty eventful,” Hannah grins at her, Lottie pulling her arm from Hannah’s to wrap it around her waist. Hannah beams at her, leaning into her side happily, now 31 but as bright-eyed and content as 21 year old Hannah. Marisol really likes seeing her like that; Lottie’s good for her.

Shannon clears her throat, “Well, if anyone ever wants a vacation, I’m still playing and can hook you guys up with a break,” she looks around the group, earnestly meeting everyone’s eyes.

“I might have to take you up on that offer,” Priya sighs, Marisol placing a hand on her arm in concern. She smiles, “Kids are just… so exhausting,” her eyes are wide as she shakes her head in faux exasperation.

Chelsea bounces on her toes excitedly, “Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, how is the little guy?!” She looks like she might explode from cuteness that isn’t even in front of her.

Priya pats her shoulder to try and calm her, “Ri’s doing well. Not much going on outside of daycare. Benny’s been home with him since last night so I could come, and I really hope they haven’t burnt the house down.”

Laughter ripples through the group, but Chelsea seems oblivious to it, “Do you have pictures?!” she claps her hands eagerly.

Priya laughs and pulls out her phone, “Of course!” She pulls up her camera roll, Chelsea leaning over her shoulder to watch her flick through pictures, squealing every few seconds.

“So the engagement’s new, right?” Shannon addresses Marisol as she takes a drink.

Marisol hurries to swallow, “Oh, yeah! Uh, two? No, three months ago he asked,” she nods.

“What’s the ring look like?” Shannon prompts. Marisol obliges, lifting her hand to show her the massive diamond that she thinks cost too much. Shannon nods approvingly, “Nice. Expensive. He must make bank,” she smirks, popping her eyebrows.

Marisol laughs once again, a sound that feels oddly unfamiliar nowadays, “Lawyer, remember?”

Shannon whoops, “Smart woman.” Marisol chuckles, sipping her drink as a shout rips her eardrums.

“Hope!” Priya shouts, tearing the group from their smaller clusters as she embraces the woman, a well dressed man beside her as she laughs in Priya’s ear, the others looking on curiously.

Hannah stiffens next to Lottie, glancing between the two nervously, “Um, don’t you guys, uh, hate each other?” she asks cautiously.

Priya laughs, Hope chuckling lightly with her, “Not anymore!” Priya grins when her breath is caught, “We’re both bad bitches, and bad bitches gotta stick together!” she throws her arm over Hope’s shoulders to emphasise their newfound camaraderie.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t pull away, “She’s just a gold digger.”

“Does this mean you’re finally on board with being my sugar mama? I swear it’s worth your while,” Priya winks, bumping her hip into Hope’s. “I won’t even say anything about Isaiah,” she winks at Hope’s husband, too, who appears to be properly confused.

Hope shakes her head at Priya with an amused smile on her lips, exhaling through her nose. She glances over to her husband, slipping her hand into his larger one until he relaxes at her side.

“Hey, if Hope won’t treat you right, I’ll happily volunteer,” Shannon joins, smiling at the antics.

Priya removes her arm from Hope’s shoulder quickly, skipping across the gathered circle to loop her arm in Shannon’s, “I’ll take it!” Shannon laughs, throwing her head back as the women dissolve into tipsy giggles, Isaiah stilled at Hope’s side.

Another shout disrupts the group, “Dahlia!” Chelsea shrieks like a banshee, already sprinting for the woman in question, tackling her in the tightest hug she can. Dahlia hugs her back eagerly, lifting Chelsea off the ground with a laugh and swings the blonde around lightly, Chelsea giggling into her shoulder as she does. She sets her down, Chelsea immediately dragging her over to the gathered crowd by the bar, ignoring the trepidation sparking in Dahlia as she gently resists.

Marisol watches the entire interaction, dread settling in her stomach, swirling and mashing her insides as panic explodes in Dahlia’s eyes as she draws nearer and nearer. Chelsea tugs her to a stop beside Priya, the older woman immediately wrapping her in another hug.

She moves through the group, sharing greetings with Hannah, Lottie, Shannon, Hope, even Isaiah, before skipping over Marisol with a nervous glance. She lands beside Chelsea again and accepts a drink from her, sipping it as the group restarts. Marisol can tell that the conversation’s continued, but she doesn’t hear any of the words, all she can hear is her heartbeat pounding against her eardrums like fists on the bars of a jail cell. She can see their lips moving whenever she glances at them, can see them laughing and smiling, even Isaiah chuckling along to a few jokes.

But Marisol doesn’t know what they’re laughing and smiling at, doesn’t understand what could be funny right now, with Dahlia right there. Dahlia right there smiling along, draining her drink, answering questions that Lottie the Interrogator proposes. Dahlia right there, the lights playing off her hair and her green eyes crinkling as Chelsea says something to her. Dahlia right there, with the group’s recent addition of Lucas’s arm slung around her shoulders affectionately.

Ugh, Marisol feels gross, like black sludge is filling her veins and lungs, weighing her down as she turns in a daze, walking across the venue to the washroom. They’re at the start of a long hallway, but Marisol doesn’t step into the women’s room. She keeps walking down the hallway until there’s a bend, and she follows it, turning the corner and hitting an exit door, red letters indicating as such.

She throws it open and retreats into the cool night, walking a few steps away and slumps against the brick wall as her head falls back to meet it. Dahlia had cheated and broken her heart, yet Marisol can tell that she still holds a few of the shards. Which is exactly why Marisol shouldn’t have come. This was stupid, this was a mistake. She could have stayed home and just made dinner with James and watched a movie, why did she have to come? Why couldn’t she do something simple and basic, like she has for a decade now? Why did she have to submit herself to this?

She huffs, drags a hand through her hazelnut locks, and stands straight, intent on removing the sludge from her system. She turns to the door and tugs on the handle, but it doesn’t budge, and she feels frustrated tears building behind her eyes as she collapses against the wall again, sinking to the ground this time. She stares into the dark night, a few street lights lighting up the alley she’s found herself in. She’s angry and frustrated with every decision she’s ever made, every step she’s ever taken, every bit of progress she’s ever accomplished.

She spins her ridiculously sized engagement ring on her finger, fidgeting and slipping it on and off as she maps out an escape from this house of horrors. She should just call a cab and go back to her hotel, pack her bag and find a train to Portsmouth; she can sleep at the station if she needs to.

‘You doing okay out here?’ shatters her bubble, freezes her in place, short circuits her nervous system as that familiar voice she somehow hasn’t forgotten in a decade rings in her ears, an alarm telling her to run as far and as fast as she can.

“Y - Yeah,” she stammers. “I’m okay,” she dips her head, circles her outrageous ring on her finger, and stares at the pavement beneath her as footsteps draw near.

Dahlia stops beside her along the wall, eyes focused on the part of the street they can see from their position as she faces forward, “You sure? You kinda, um, bolted. But er - you know what?” she steps away from Marisol, backing away carefully, “I’m gonna leave you alone.”

Marisol finally glances at her, finding Dahlia retreating back to the reunion that she’s now locked out of, “Why?” she utters without realising, somehow hurt by the instantaneous change in Dahlia.

She seems taken aback by the question, “Um, It’s really not my place…” she backs away further, fingers tapping her hand held in front of her chest.

“Why not?” Marisol pursues, intent on hearing her say it, hearing her say it’s her fault, not Marisol’s. Maybe if she says what she did again, Marisol can finally forget it, let Dahlia keep those shards and move on. Yeah, that’ll fix things, won’t it?

Dahlia halts in her tracks, “I -” she glances to the ground beneath her heels, “Well, I cheated and we broke up and it’s not my place to be in my ex’s business, so…” she states matter-of-factly, that bluntness that got her in so much trouble in the Villa shining through.

Marisol doesn’t feel better hearing her say it, she doesn’t feel like she got closure, she doesn’t feel content and pleased, it just feels like those shards are bigger than she thought, more than a few scraps, closer to a heavy chunk than tiny crumbs, a gaping whole in her chest. All right, new plan. “We don’t have to be exes, right? Can’t we be friends or something?” Marisol proposes. Nothing else has worked, time to take a risk, she internally reasons.

Hopeful green eyes land on Marisol’s, “Can we? Do you want to be? Can we?” she takes a step forward, eyes boring into Marisol’s as they unconsciously plead for the affirmative.

“Yeah,” Marisol shrugs and shifts her weight, “Why not? We’ve both grown and it’s been a long time. Might as well bury the hatchet.”

Dahlia nods ferociously, “Yeah. Yeah,” she forces her excitement down, “Might as well.” She sinks to the pavement beside Marisol, knees bent as she sits on her heels, hands still clasped together.

“So… what have you been up to?” Marisol asks awkwardly, spinning her ring incessantly.

Dahlia laughs, the tension in her shoulders disappearing as Marisol’s heart lightens at the melody, “Not much, honestly. I think I’m kind of on a date with Lucas, but he met up with Henrik earlier and I had to come alone,” she frowns, her lips twisting.

Marisol’s head falls back to the brick behind her, “Sounds like they’re on a date instead.”

“...Yeah.”

Marisol glances over to her, finding her features fraught and elects to correct that, “What about your job? Are you still at the foundation?”

She beams, “Yep! You’re looking at the Director of Finance!” she announces proudly, and Marisol can’t help but smile.

“I thought you hated maths.”

“I do. But I don’t hate being the boss,” she winks with a grin.

Marisol laughs, “Fair enough. So you’re still in Sheffield, then?”

Dahlia nods again, “Yeah. Hard to leave, y’know? And I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“Would you? If you had somewhere to go, I mean.”

Her brow furrows as she considers, “I’d need a good reason.”

“What counts as a good reason?” Marisol presses.

“A good person.”

Marisol’s suddenly aware of just how close they’ve gotten in such a short time, just how little space is between them as Dahlia leans against the wall, meeting Marisol’s coffee eyes with her own sparkling emeralds. Marisol’s breath hitches as the distance seems to be getting smaller and smaller, those emeralds getting closer and closer. And Marisol knows she should pull back, knows those precious gems need to be as far from her as possible, but she just can’t.

Their lips brush, tender and sweet, a shiver running through Marisol at the contact. Marisol’s hand rises to cup her cheek, and she can feel her diamond ring on her finger, brushing the skin beneath her hand, but she doesn’t care about it, not in this moment.

Dahlia pulls away quickly, eyes flicking open as she immediately begins freaking out, “Oh god, I’m doing it again, oh god, oh god,” she groans, her face buried in her hands as she pulls away, stumbling to her feet to put as much cold space as possible between herself and Marisol.

Speaking of, Marisol’s absolutely panicking, eyes bugged out of her head as she reaches for Dahlia, struggling to her feet as well, “What? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Her hand lands on Dahlia’s shoulder, but the other woman pulls away even farther, retreating towards the shadows of the alley.

“I can’t -” her breathing’s turned shallow as she rubs her temples, turning away and slowly sinking back to her knees, “I can’t - keep doing this. I - I did it in the Villa and I’m doing it now and it’s not fair and it always hurts and I’m supposed to be with him but he’s not even with me and it’s you but this is so messy and oh god, it’s happening again and it’s going to mess everything up again but - but this is different, right? But oh god, it’s not, it’s so not, it’s all the same again and I can’t do this and I’m so sorry,” her words trail off as she sucks in her first breath since she started rambling.

“Hey. Dahls,” Marisol urges softly, working to pull Dahlia’s gaze on her as she draws nearer, “Calm down, okay? Calm down.”

Dahlia shakes her head, “No. No, I can’t, I keep doing this, I’m always ruining things and I hate it and you hate me and I’m so sorry, and oh god,” she rasps a heavy breath, her back quivering with it.

“I don’t hate you,” Marisol finally reaches her and squeezes her shoulder, “I’ve never hated you. I don’t think I ever could,” Marisol murmurs, settling back beside a panicked Dahlia as calmly as she can, her own anxiety still skyrocketing.

Her eyes find Marisol’s coffee ones, earnest with a war within them, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that I - you’re engaged. I’m so sorry, that was so stupid and you -”

Marisol cuts her off with a wave of her hand, “I did it as much as you,” she reasons, Dahlia quieting at her words.

Her eyes drop to the ground, piercing into the dark pavement, the smallest amount of street lights reaching them, “Why’d you do it? I - I know I have a history of kissing people I shouldn’t, but… But you’re engaged,” she emphasises the word every time, like she still can’t believe it to be true.

Marisol glances to the silver on her ring finger, glinting in the low light, the egregious stone that James thought would impress her sparkling, somehow reminiscent of the emeralds beside her. “I don’t know. I just… it felt right, I guess. It made sense.”

Dahlia’s quiet for a long time, her index finger circling a point on her thigh as she thinks. “Does it feel right… right now?” she finally asks.

Now Marisol pauses, considering the question, considering her answer, considering the fallout, considering the buildup, considering anything and everything. “Yes.”

Dahlia nods slowly, her mind audibly whirring, “Does James feel right?”

Marisol sighs, her head dipping low and settling in her hands, face in her palms. Gentle fingers scratch along her scalp and tucks loose locks of hair behind her ears without prompting or hesitation. And that’s why it feels right. Because Dahlia never has to force herself to be kind and affectionate and patient, she just is, even if she gets caught up in her emotions, too. She doesn’t fight with Marisol for hours and hours until one of them gives up and leaves. She doesn’t set ultimatums and strict boundaries. She doesn’t tell white lies to avoid making things worse, she just accepts the consequences. She doesn’t get frustrated when Marisol drags up the past, because odds are she never forgot it in the first place.

She let Marisol be Marisol, let her take her time, let Marisol hurt her sometimes, a cut on her hand as opposed to breaking every bone in Marisol’s. She’s honest to a fault, she’s obnoxiously self-aware and apologetic, she even sometimes gave Marisol too much space. But Marisol likes all those things about her. She likes that she didn’t have to guess or sacrifice her freedoms. She just likes Dahlia, good and bad.

Unfortunately, she can’t say the same for James. She hates how much he forces himself to hold her hand or grits his teeth when searching for something to compliment her on, even if she knows he’s trying. She hates how argumentative he is, even if she knows how hypocritical she’s being. She hates how structured everything is with him, how it has to follow his specific schedule, even if she knows it’s hard for him to budge. She hates how red his face gets when she brings up a past fight, even if she knows it’s not in his nature to keep track of every squabble.

She doesn’t hate him, not by a long shot. She loves him, she really does, she just hates some things about him. She can’t bring herself to like everything about him, the good and the bad. She can’t bring herself to love his faults, not the same way she adored Dahlia’s without any effort.

“Sometimes,” she answers truthfully, the word stinging her mouth as it spills off her tongue.

Dahlia nods slowly, hand retracting and going back to tracing an invisible point on her thigh as Marisol lifts her head, “Um, good luck on the wedding?” she says, unsure of the words as they exit her throat.

And Marisol just gapes at her, gapes at the pained and embarrassed features on her face, watches her brows draw together tighter and tighter, “That’s it? I just, like, said that and you don’t care?!” There’s that anger again, that bubbling, boiling, simmering anger that made Marisol’s throat hurt and tears press against the back of her eyes on the terrace. That anger that was so strong it hurt and festered as she stalked off the roof terrace to hide from her nightmare under the covers. That anger that tore her into pieces until she was a hollow shell of herself, an empty husk letting the world pass her by.

But she won’t let it happen again, she won’t fall apart for years, she won’t chase someone that doesn’t want to be chased, she won’t sacrifice predictable stability for a decade old, few weeks long relationship. She won’t do something stupid and insane and ridiculous. She struggles to her feet, intent on leaving Dahlia behind again, but she can’t help herself from exploding, “Do you not care that I basically said I give more of a shit about you than my fiancé?!”

Now Dahlia’s gaping, staring at Marisol in disbelief, eyes wide and jaw hanging wide open, but she doesn’t form any words, Marisol’s hurt and frustration only growing at her silence. She knows she should just turn and run for her hotel, but she can’t, she can’t ever stop herself when it comes to Dahlia, “Did you ever care?! Did you ever regret it? Did you ever wonder what things would be like if you hadn’t kissed her?! Because I do. I have for ten fucking years, Dahlia,” she hisses, “But if you’ve never, then I’m just going to go.”

She starts to turn away, but before she gets the chance, Dahlia’s hands grab the front of Marisol’s blazer, fisting in the material and jerking her down, crashing their lips together in an explosion of lights and colours, Marisol falling into her with ease.

Dahlia breaks it after an electric moment, Marisol’s body humming with it, “Don’t go,” she sounds so desperate, so scared, so much like she did when she confessed and so much like Marisol felt walking away from the Villa, walking away from her.

“Okay,” Marisol whispers against her lips, two syllables but a thousand promises held within them, a thousand promises for 24 year old Marisol, a thousand promises she shouldn’t be making for her 34 year old self.

Dahlia nods, Marisol scooting closer and letting Dahlia’s head fall to her shoulder, an arm snaking around her back. After a long moment, Dahlia sniffles, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, I just didn’t think you meant it like that and - and -” she hiccups and sniffles some more, “I never should have - I just got caught up in it all then and she was being so nice, and just - I’m so sorry,” she repeats, head dipping down and fingers fidgeting her lap.

Marisol’s hand reaches out, gently grasping her twitching fingers to still them, “Do you regret it?” It’s the one question she’s never stopped asking, and the one she most desperately needs an answer for.

“More than anything,” Dahlia answers without hesitation, eyes looking up to pour into Marisol’s coffee abysses.

“Then we’re on the same page,” Marisol smiles softly, the pad of her thumb gently brushing Dahlia’s knuckles encouragingly, comfortingly.

They sit there, frozen as the reunion carries on inside, the faint sounds of it floating to them as they sit together, tucked away from the action. At some point Dahlia’s arm wraps around her waist and Marisol falls into her. At some point Marisol starts telling Dahlia everything she’s been up to recently. At some point Dahlia’s fingers slip into Marisol’s hair, gently slipping through the tresses. At some point Dahlia laughs at something Marisol said. At some point Marisol laughs at something Dahlia said.

But the entire time, it feels right. It feels like they didn’t lose ten whole years, like nothing ever occurred and they’re still in the Villa, awaiting a text or a challenge or the explosion of some petty drama, hidden away on a daybed. It feels like Marisol’s woken up in Majorca again, curled up beside Dahlia, listening to her soft breathing. It feels like she hasn’t been chasing happiness for an entire decade, an entire decade where she almost found it, she really did. But it’s just not the same in some sick, twisted, horrifying and heartbreaking way.

Years with James have never felt as natural as those few weeks with Dahlia, and Marisol’s always hated that. She’s always hated how fixated she was on Dahlia, how long it took her to get over her when she’d never cared that much before. She’s always hated how weird everything felt when she started dating again, how nothing went as smooth in real life as it did in the disastrous Villa. She’s hated how much she romanticised Dahlia and the idea of her, making her ethereal and perfect in her mind, even if she always embraced her flaws. She’s hated the tilted perception she’s had since the words ‘kissed,’ ‘Elisa,’ and ‘I’ were strung into a sentence from Dahlia’s mouth.

And, most of all, she’s hated how she never got to find out what could have been, where they could have ended up, how things would be different with her. She’s never guessed with James, it’s always been black and white, laid out in front of her with him. They’ll date a while, he’ll propose, she’ll plan the wedding, she won’t want kids and maybe he’ll convince her because he wants a cheesy nuclear family to fill a big house and a backyard with a picket fence with.

But Dahlia’s a wild card, always has been. Who knows when they’d say the ‘l’ word, who knows when they’d move in together, who knows when she’d propose, if at all, who knows what a wedding would look like, who knows what kind of family they’d create, who knows where they’d live, who knows what would happen? It’s a mystery of what could have been, thousands of possibilities that Marisol would have a real say in, not just be pulled along for the ride.

A buzz rings from Dahlia’s bag and she pulls it into her lap, rummaging around for her phone. She yanks it out and scans her screen quickly, Marisol glancing over her shoulder to read it, ‘Did you ever find her?’ printed on the screen, Chelsea’s name above it.

“We should go,” Dahlia murmurs, retracting her body from Marisol and tossing her phone back in her bag.

Marisol pushes herself to her feet and offers her hands, Dahlia taking them with a grin and letting Marisol pull her to her feet, leaning into her as she steadies herself. She turns to her dress, brushing herself off and pulling at the fabric before turning back to Marisol, who’s been staring at her the whole time.

She has two options here. Two options with vastly different outcomes, two outcomes with countless consequences, countless possibilities, some significantly better than others, some more manageable than others, some more worth it than others.

Marisol pulls off her engagement ring and stuffs it in her pocket, taking Dahlia’s hand in hers and interlocking their fingers as she meets shimmering eyes, watching the way the light from the street plays in them, a million emotions shining within their colourful, precious emerald swirls. Dahlia swallows thickly, averting her gaze as she squeezes Marisol’s hand in hers, thumb brushing knuckles lightly.

Marisol has made her decision, selected her option, picked her outcome, and readied herself for the countless consequences and possibilities. Accepted the better option in her mind and has begun preparing herself for the least manageable, but no doubt the most worthwhile outcome.

Maybe it took ten years, countless tears, and crippling, debilitating heartache, but they’re back on track. They’ve got another shot at this, at the perfect dream that they’ve never been able to forget, not even when it became a horrific nightmare. But ten years later, the wounds have mostly healed, turned to unassuming scar tissue to be covered with the tattoos of new memories, happy memories that stain the skin for so much longer, pieces of art that last an eternity, that last so much longer than a mere ten years.

#litg marisol #litg fanfic #i swear im not intentionally stealing other peoples ideas #these hcs are just so fucking good #and i hate rhannah so we fixed that lmao #tyl

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 4 years

Note

“I think you might be pregnant.”

Minor cussing and some drinking in here along with hospital, IV, and blood. This is a continuation of this fic but you don’t have to read it to understand what’s going on in this.

January 21, 2020 8:00am

All was quiet in the ER that morning. Or as quiet as it could be with two gunshot victims and several heart attack patients. It had been crazy since he punched in at 5:00am for his 12 hour shift.

He threw himself into a chair and surveyed the waiting room. He was waiting for something to happen but for the moment it was temporarily calm.

He was lost in his thoughts, thinking of the dinner that Racer had promised him, when a chart was thrown on the desk with a bang. Looking up, he saw Plums standing there with an unsettling look on her face. “You alright, Plums?”

“Just felt off for a moment.” She pushed a smile to her face, sitting in a chair. “Hey, good job with that gunshot victim earlier. Not sure how but you got him calmed down.”

Spot grinned, thinking back to the first 30 minutes of his shift. “Got him talking about his daughter. Works like a charm.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Kat grinned, looking at the clock before turning to her chart.

Spot watched her. “Something’s off with you Plums. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine; don’t worry about me. Jack’s got all these ideas for projects this weekend and I’m a little nervous to be honest. But I’m fine.” She waved him off, as he raised an eyebrow.

“And is there a reason you’ve been in the bathroom like 6 times already this morning?” Spot picked up a pen and his own chart. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

Her eyes went wide as her hands went to her ponytail to tighten it before giving him a look. “I didn’t know you’ve added stalker to your resume.”

“For being a doctor you’re kinda thick headed, Plums.” Spot smirked.

She turned, giving him a confused look. “Pray tell, head nurse Spottie, tell me what I’m missing.”

Leaning in close to her, he grinned before whispering. “I think you might be pregnant.”

She pushed back in her chair, eyes wide. “There’s no way.”

“Come on. There’s a way. You and Jack - trust me I know more than any brother-in-law ever wants to know.” Spot gave her a look. “You’ve got all the signs - frequent trips to the bathroom, sleepiness, fatigue, need I go on?”

Kat shook her head. “I’m not pregnant, Spot. Just drop it.”

“Just take a test. If I’m wrong, we drop it. If I’m right, we’ll celebrate.” Spot kissed her cheek. “Why are you so worked up denying this?”

She sighed, flipping the chart closed. “Just drop it. I’m off the clock. I’ll see you this weekend, love you.”

“Love you too Kat.” He gave her a look, watching her head to the locker rooms to grab her stuff. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

The day passed, with more runny noses and coughs that he wanted to see but it was quiet, thankfully. No major crises or issues walked through the doors. Looking at the clock he saw that it was just past noon. He was planning on escaping to the cafeteria to grab something to eat when the bay doors were thrown open and a gurney was wheeled in.

“What do we have boys?” He caught up with them, accepting the chart they had started before looking at the patient, eyes going wide. “Kat?”

“26 year old female; husband found her fainted and lethargic. Her husband called saying she had fainted several times, hitting her head the final time.” Spot looked at the gauze on her forehead before looking over at a worried Jack. He gave him a tight smile before looking at the paramedics.

“Let’s get her over to bed 2.” He said, pointing in the general direction.

Stopping at the desk, he gave Isabel, another nurse, a look. “Page Dr Rush and Albert. Plums is in bed 2.”

Walking over to the bed, he was met by a few nurses and an orderly. They transferred her to the bed, letting the paramedics leave. Spot looked at Jack. “Jack, talk to me. What happened?”

Jack kept an eye on the nurse as she started an IV, getting Kat hooked up to all of the monitors. Putting a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder, Spot looked at him. “She’s going to be okay. Now I need you to tell me what happened.”

“One minute she’s telling me what a pain in the ass you are at work today. And the next she’s falling to the ground. She was so still, Spot. She didn’t move for a minute or two while I called 9-1-1.” Jack cried as Dr Rush and Albert showed up.

Albert looked between Jack and Spot before nodding at them. Dr Peter Rush sighed. “Didn’t we just kick you to the curb, Plums?”

“Missed it too much. Had to come check up on all of you.” She grinned. “I’m fine you guys. It’s just a little head wound.”

Dr Rush stepped up to the bed and looked her over. “Albert, would you take Jack to the waiting room? We’re going to do some tests and you can come back in.”

Jack shook his head, giving Spot a pleading look. “I’ll come get you when we’re done, I promise.”

Letting Albert guide him, Jack sighed loudly. “Love you, Kat.”

“Love you too Jack. Go I’ll be fine. Call your brother.” She gave him a look, watching him walk away before looking at the two men in front of her. “Spot don’t start. Order a full blood work panel and see what’s up. Also, just stitch me up.”

Dr Rush chuckled. “She self diagnosed herself . . . why was I paged?”

“Possible concussion and because she’s a stubborn little thing and I needed someone to look at her.” Spot chuckled. “Anything else?”

Looking at Kat, Dr Rush gave her a look. “What year is it?”

“2020.” She grinned.

“And what day of the week is it?” He asked.

“Tuesday.”

“And what’s your puppy’s name?”

Kat grinned. “Basil.”

“I want a CT scan, I want to know why she’s fainting. I don’t think she has a concussion.” He handed her chart to Spot. “Let me know what you find out. Kat, take it easy; try to sleep some while you’re here. Let us run tests and we’ll see what’s going on.”

Waiting until he left, Spot gave her a look before drawing blood. “Did you take a test?”

Swatting him, she shook her head. “No but knowing you, you’re gonna run one. Put a rush on those, please?”

“Will do. You scared Jack.” He said, flicking the test tube a bit to ensure all the bubbles were out of it before putting a barcode on it. He would deliver the blood to the lab himself. “Do you need anything?”

She sighed, pushing herself up in the bed. “I know I scared Jack - one minute I’m complaining about you and the next I'm on the floor with his mug hovering over me. Can I have some water? Can you grab Jack?”

“I’ll have Al bring you some water. Anything to eat? And yes, I’ll grab Jack as I head to the lab.” He promised, patting her leg. “You’re going to be fine. We’ll figure this out.”

Kat smiled, biting her lip. “I had lunch. Thank you for everything, Spot.”

Spot patted her shoulder before giving her cheek a kiss. “Rest. I’ll send Jack and Al back here. Love you.”

“Love you to, Spot.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

He nodded, stepping out closing the curtain behind him before heading to the waiting room. Spot quickly found Jack sitting there with Racer beside him. They both stood as he approached. “How is she?”

“She’s good. She’s hooked up to an IV getting some fluids. We took blood work and I’ll bring it up to the lab. She’s going to be getting stitches and a CT scan and will know more in a bit.” Spot smiled at the two. “You guys can come back and sit with her if you want, until we take her up for the scan.”

They both nodded and followed him through the maze of the ER. He stopped at the desk and grinned at Al. “Hey can you come stitch up Plums? And grab her some water.”

“Sure. Thought you’d want to do that?” Al grinned, looking between Spot and the two behind him.

Fishing in his scrubs pocket, he pulled out the vial of blood. “Gotta take this to the labs. I’ll meet you guys by Kat in a bit.”

Tugging on Race’s hand, he pulled him closer. “Hi love. I’m sorry it’s so chaotic but I’m glad you’re here for Jack.”

“Hi yourself.” Race grinned, leaning over and kissing him. “Go be the hero and save the day. I’ll see you in a bit.”

With a pep in his step, Spot gave him a look before heading towards the elevator. Tapping his foot, he took a moment to inhale a deep breath before exhaling. He hoped the vial of blood would clue them in on what’s going on, though he had a pretty good feeling.

Walking into the lab, he grinned seeing Elmer standing there. “Hey man is there any way you can rush this and run this while I wait?”

Elmer gave Spot a look. “It’ll cost you.”

“Whatever it takes. I just need this done. Order should be in your inbox.” Spot handed over the vial, leaning against the wall, taking out his cell phone.

A quietness descended on the two. Spot took that time to flip through the texts he had received, most of them from Race trying to figure out what was going on with Kat. He sent Race a text to see how Kat was doing and glanced up at Elmer. “How’s your day been?”

“Busy. Y’all couldn’t have a quiet day in the ER could you?” Elmer gave him a look grinning.

Spot chuckled. “Never. But it’s been quieter than the last few days, knock on wood.”

Elmer laughed, shaking his head. “Glad you’re in the mayhem and I’m not. Alright, the tests will be in the patient's file by the time you get back downstairs.”

“Thank you! I owe you.” Spot clapped his hands, heading towards the elevator, pressing the down button.

Stepping off the elevator, he headed to the desk, pulling up Plums’ chart before reading the labs. His eyes widened at the one result, a grin pushing through his lips. Logging off the computer, he headed back to her bed. “Oh thank god you’re back.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking between Jack and Race who both had grins, Albert who was frozen halfway between the bed and the curtain and Kat who just looked half asleep.

“These two are trying to convince Al to put purple or green stitches in. They think they’re funny but they’re not.” She rolled her eyes, hand flying to her head with a groan. “Can you stop them?”

Spot gave his husband and brother-in-law a look, pointing at them. “Al go check up on status for a CT, you two sit there and touch nothing.”

Walking to a drawer, he grabbed a few things, looking at Kat. “Did he numb you up yet?”

“No. He was too busy being egged on by these two.” Kat gave him a look. “Can you assign him flu cases for the next week?”

Spot grinned. “Shhh that’s our secret. How are you feeling?”

“Slight headache and just tired.” She gave him a faint smile as he prepped to stitch her up.

“Race, don't look at Kat. Keep your eyes away from her.” Spot said, glancing over his shoulder. “Just a few more Kat.”

Snipping the thread, he threw everything just as Al came back in. “They can take her now if you’re ready.”

“You two will have to wait in the waiting room.” Spot gave Jack and Race a look as Jack started to protest. “She’s going to be upstairs, running tests. You’ll be bored so we’ll come get you once she’s back.”

“Is she going to have to stay overnight?” Jack asked, standing.

Spot shrugged. “Probably not but we’ll know more after the CT scan. Don’t panic - this is routine and normal. She’s okay, Jack.”

Kat grinned at her husband and brother as they both gave her kisses. Al and Spot transferred her upstairs, Al leaving them at radiology. “So what did my labs say?”

“You owe me.” Spot looked at her. “You’re pregnant.”

Tears clouded her eyes, as she shook her head. “Really?”

“Yup.” Spot nodded. “We can do an ultrasound if you want when you go back down.”

She chuckled. “Not exactly how I wanted Jack to find out or you and Racer.”

“But it’s kinda perfect.” Spot grinned.

She nodded, folding her hands over her stomach. “Can we not tell Jack? I will, I just want him not to find out with the hubble babloo of the ER.”

“Let me talk to Rush and we’ll see what we can do.” Spot grinned. “Now let’s get this CT scan done and we can get you out of here.”

He sent a text to Rush with Kat’s request and waited in the hall until she was done. Blink quickly read the report and didn’t see anything abnormal which they expected. Pushing her back downstairs, Spot put her back in her bed before going to find Race and Jack. “She’s back in bed. I’ll have Dr Rush come in and she should be released soon.”

“Spot, give it to me straight. Is she okay?” Jack stopped him before he started to head to the back.

He bit his lip, looking between Race and Jack. “She’s going to be okay, Jack. Dr Rush wants to look at everything before coming to talk to you guys, okay?”

Jack nodded, following Spot to the back. Race followed them, but held back as Jack went to see Kat. “You’re lying.”

“Am not.” Spot gave his husband a look. “And since when do you know all medical things?”

Race grinned. “You biting your lip is a tell. You know something.”

“Even if I knew something, I couldn’t tell you because of confidentiality.” Spot gave him a look. “Besides if they want you to know, you’ll know.”

Race’s eyes lit up. “So you do know something. Spottie . . .”

“No, Racetrack. Go in and check on Kat.” Spot pushed him towards the curtain, giving him a pointed look. “I’ve got to get the doctor then I’ll be in. Don’t be a nuisance.”

Spot watched him disappear behind the curtain before heading to the nurse’s station. He saw Dr Rush standing there and slided up beside him. “Did you see Kat’s labs?”

“I was just looking at them. Now what does she want to do?” Rush looked at him, flipping through the labs.

Spot grinned. “She doesn’t want us to tell them about the lab results. So I was thinking we tell them she was dehydrated and she needs to push fluids for the next couple of hours.”

Dr Rush nodded, motioning him towards Kat’s curtain. Spot walked behind him, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

They stepped in and all eyes turned to them. “We have your results. Looks like you’re dehydrated but everything looks good. I would suggest taking it easy for the next couple of days and push fluids - water and juice. Skip the alcohol.”

Jack leaned over and kissed Kat’s forehead with a strangled chuckled. He closed his eyes, continuing to kiss her forehead. “Any questions?”

Kat laughed, shaking her head. “I think we’re all set. When can I leave?”

“As soon as Spot writes up the discharge papers.” Rush gave them all a look before stepping out of the curtain. Spot looked at the pure excitement in the room and the relief on Jack’s face. “Kat, do you need anything?”

She looked at Race and Jack who were both grinning brightly at her, a weight lifted from their shoulders at their wife and sister being alright. “Nah I think I’m alright. Just get the papers ready?”

“I’ll get them ready.” Spot chuckled. “How are you getting home?”

Race raised his hand. “I told them I would take them home since Jack rode in the ambulance with them.”

Nodding, Spot left the area, heading over to the nurse’s desk to start the paperwork. Spot logged into the computer, reviewing his notes before typing them up. Finishing them up, he quickly printed them off. Grabbing that and a prescription that printed off, he headed back to Kat’s area.

“Basically, keep hydrated, rest, don’t do anything dumb.” Spot gave Jack the paperwork, giving him a look. “Keep her calm, even though she doesn’t have a concussion, she might have a hell of a headache. Let me know if you have any questions.”

Jack nodded, giving him a look. “Thank you Spot. I’ll text you if I have any questions.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He gave Kat a look. “Let Jack wait on you hand and foot. No Dr Plums today . . . it’s just Katherine for the day. Go watch all those Hallmark movies you love and cuddle Basil.”

He started taking the wires and IV out before giving her a look. “Do you need anything before you go?”

She shook her head as Albert came up with a wheelchair, before helping her into the wheelchair. Patting Jack’s back, Spot watched them walk out of the area with a smile on his face. He just hoped that Kat would tell him sooner rather than later.

Race caught him as he walked out of the area. “Hey, what time will you be home tonight?”

“Around 5. You still making dinner?” Spot asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

Race nodded. “Pasta, right or do you want something else?”

“Kind of craving homemade pizza.” Spot grinned. “I’ll see you at home, I love you.”

“Love you too. Have a good rest of your shift.” Race kissed him, waving goodbye before heading out of the emergency room.

Going back to the desk, he collapsed in the chair, rubbing his hand over his face with a loud sigh. Closing his eyes for a moment, he listened to the noises around him. He heard the chair next to him slide across the floor, as he peaked an eye open. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing as well as I can be right now.” Spot sighed. “Got another two hours before I’m done and all I want is a bed for a nap. How are you doing? Ready for all the incoming flu cases coming your way?”

Albert threw his head back, groaning. “Ha you’re funny. I’m fine. I wasn’t in the room all that much but it seems as if Kat’s alright - just dehydrated from what I saw.”

Spot nodded, grinning. “I’m sure Jack will be the perfect nurse for him.”

The next two hours passed by without an issue, a few simple cuts and bruises and an arm that needed to be set. He quickly grabbed his stuff before clocking out and heading home. He sighed, getting into the car, starting to head home.

He was looking forward to laying on the couch with Sassie, their dog, and looking forward to whatever kind of pizza Race was making that night. Pulling into their driveway, he quickly got out before slamming the car door behind him. Walking up the sidewalk, he pushed open the door, inhaling deeply, sighing in content at the spiciness in the house.

“Honey I’m home.” He tiredly called, dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes. “And it’s been a hell of a day.”

Race poked his head out of the kitchen while Sassie made her way over to him. He patted her a few times, before leaning over and kissing Race. “I love you. It was good to have you in the emergency room and not be the patient.”

“I love you too and you’re not funny.” Race rolled his eyes, walking into the kitchen. “I have a beer open and ready for you.”

Quickly changing into sweatpants and a hoodie, he sat at the kitchen table and watched Race finish up dinner. He relaxed in the chair and listened to Race prattle on about anything and everything. As they were finishing up dinner, both of their cell phones chirped with a text message. “OH HELL YES!”

Race did a weird jig in the middle of the kitchen, with the biggest grin on his face. Spot gave him a look. “What?”

“WE’RE GONNA BE UNCLES, SPOTTIE!!!!” Race yelled, continuing his jig. “Jack just texted the news.”

Spot grinned, shaking his head, standing up and joining him in his awkward jig. The secret would stay with him now. In this moment, he would jig with his husband and celebrate the happy news.

There’s almost 3500 words of another emergency room fic featuring doc Kat and nurse Spottie. Hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!

#Newsies #Newsies Fan Fiction #writing #ask #drabble prompt #newsies drabble #jack kelly x katherine plumber #Katherine Plumber #Jack Kelly #Racetrack Higgins #spot conlon #Katherine is a Doctor and Spot is a Nurse #Life In The ER Newsies Series

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 4 years

Text

Replay ch. 3

Chapter is rated M

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

Rayla got up at seven, eyes heavy from the lack of sleep last night. “Noooo. UGH.” She turned to angrily glare at her alarm that had interrupted her rain noises. Aberdeen wasn’t the rainiest place in the world, but the sound of a rain storm always helped put her to sleep. Her mum and da always joked she was named ‘Rayla’ because she was born right when the moon shone through a stormy night.

Rayla went through her emails quickly, making a note in her phone to call both sets of her parents this weekend. She missed the days in Scotland when Runaan would speak French with her and talk cheese or helping Ethari in his jewelry business. Runaan ran the books while Ethari ran the artistic side, his work with metal and jewel placement both tasteful and modern while taking classic elements from Celtic art.

Her parents had yet to retire from being bodyguards, but they regaled her with stories of Africa and Asia and Australia, how kind people were, the different foods and cultures. Sometimes, she wished she could have grown up going with them. Other times, she knew they had made the right choice leaving her with Runaan and Ethari. They wouldn’t have had much time for her anyways.

Sighing, she rolled out of bed. She had a breakfast date with Corvus before she had to be at the office. God. She hated those pricks sometimes; a lot of old money lived in that office. She had thought she was leaving classism behind when she did her study abroad in the States for her law degree. Apparently, America just hid their classism really well instead of openly displaying it like they did back in the UK.

She lived well, was paid well, did better than anyone had expected her to do, probably. She had been more focused on athletics as a kid, leading Runaan to force her into ballet (‘you already know some French. It’s perfect!’), Ethari insisting on Irish step dance (‘Lain’s mother was Irish. It’s a world wide sensation, Rayla!’), and her own parents signing her up for kickboxing when she was in high school during their vacation from work. Her teachers had been frustrated that she was smart but didn’t ‘apply herself’ whatever that meant. She got good grades, did better in college, got into law school in another country, and passed the bar. She could apply herself just fine. She just liked to be active.

Rayla sighed as she stepped into the hot water of her shower. She had made a good choice buying this shower head. Slowly, she felt the burn that had started last night begin to build back up again. Green eyes entered her mind again, as well as a voice that she would love to hear calling her name out while she rode him. ‘Calm down, Rayla.’ She couldn’t meet Corvus horny. Rayla sighed, putting her forehead against the shower wall before starting to massage her breast. She tried to imagine it was Callum’s hand stroking her, dipping down to touch between her thighs where she ached.

Would his hands be soft or rough? There hadn’t been any obvious calluses when she had shaken his hand at the cheese shop. She moaned, dipping her fingers into her wet heat. Her thighs rubbed together as she tried to chase that elusive release. She didn’t have time for this. The more she tried to speed up, the more it just wasn’t happening. Growling in frustration, she tried to play with her clit, breathing deeply as she finally found a rhythm that was working. Rayla bit her bottom lip and sighed as she came, inwardly crowing with satisfaction. There was no worse start to a day than being unable to cum after a wet dream or being too horny to function.

She washed and dried off, stretching her muscles before dressing. The green pantsuit and black top showed off her toned figure without drawing too much attention to any one place. Her heels made her even taller and, hopefully, a little intimidating to jerky clients or coworkers. She grabbed her purse and went out the door. When she finally made it to her car, she leaned her head on the steering wheel. Had she really started her day off by masturbating to a guy she met YESERDAY?

She shook her head, driving off until she made it to the little café she and Corvus frequented. Corvus also worked in the same building, but for a different law office, specifically divorce. Rayla had no idea how he did it, but someone had to. She saw Corvus at their usual table, smiling at something on his phone. “Your boyfriend sent you a naughty text?”

Corvus smirked back up at her. “Nope. Just something about one of my latest clients. Well, their soon-to-be-ex.”

“Good news or bad news?”

“Well, considering it’s a custody case, it’s good for my client.”

“Abuse?” Rayla frowned.

“I would not be smirking if that was the case. No. Apparently, the ex has been mismanaging the children’s money. Lying about putting it in a back account for them and spending it on gambling debts.”

“You don’t call that abuse?” Rayla smiled up at the waiter who came over, ordering an earl grey, a coffee to go, and an omelet.

“Thank you,” Corvus nodded to the waiter. “I do, personally, but everyone views that differently. The children were never struck, no record of emotional, mental, or oral abuse. It seemed like it was going to go 50-50 custody, which tends to be the ideal situation, but my client was concerned about the gambling problem.”

“So best case scenario, gambler’s anonymous and supervised visits eventually leading to 50-50 custody?”

“Best case scenario. Probably won’t happen, but we can all hope.”

Rayla shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it. I didn’t do criminal law or divorce law because I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing evidence of child abuse all day.”

“It’s a lot. We try to spread those cases around as much as we can, because it gets to be too much when it’s all you see. When police reports come into play, it’s even worse.” Rayla nodded. “While you work for old money. Tell me, how’s Kasef doing?”

“Hitting on me, again. Got upset when I told him off for glaring at a guy in a cheese shop for asking me a question.”

“He comes down to our office on his breaks and hits on half the women there.”

“Believe me, I know. His father gets really upset about it.”

“How is Mr. Ahling?”

“Still insisting we call him ‘Mr. Ahling’ and not the proper ‘Mr. Patel.’ His health is starting to go downhill, so we’re hoping his daughter graduates soon and can start to learn how to take over the office.”

Corvus shook his head, smiling at the waiter with her when they brought their food. “Thank you. I’m telling you, join our office. You could be really good at gathering information.”

“Thank you, but, no thanks. I grew up believing in true love with both sets of my parents. I’d like to continue believing in it.”

“You still believe in love. I love my boyfriend so much we’re moving in together.”

“Well, congratulations to you both. You moving in to his apartment or is he moving into your’s?”

“Mine’s bigger and closer to both our jobs.”

They talked work for a few more minutes, keeping an eye on the time. Rayla sighed as she looked at Corvus. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“My hairdresser would love to do your hair. Those layers are cute, but maybe you need a new look.”

“Ha ha. My hair’s fine, thanks. You remember me mentioning a guy in the cheese shop?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, he asked to draw me. He said it’s cool that I brought a friend and I would like to bring you. I don’t really have any other friends in the city.” She finished her tea, opening the lid of her coffee to put some cream in.

“He seem legit?”

“I saw his art. He also runs a YouTube channel with his friends and little brother?”

“What’s his name?”

“Callum Evans.”

“Katolis Squad!” Corvus smiled, clapping his hands together.

“You know them?”

“Of course. They do a lot of food stuff. I found this café because of one of their videos. Also, my boyfriend’s a baker, remember? Ezran and Claudia do a series on baking and sweets and he likes to watch them. Callum Evans is also kind of known in the art scene in town and I’ve met his aunt a few times. Lovely lady, so’s her wife.”

“Huh. Apparently, I’m out of it.”

“You just arrived in Katolis last year. I grew up here. You remember my boyfriend’s beignets you liked so much?”

“Those were delicious.”

“Ezran’s recipe. His grandmother’s friend was from Louisiana and she taught him how to make them like it’s done in the French-Quarter.”

“Huh. So, you’ll come with me?”

“Sure. Callum Evans seems harmless, but since he already approved it, might as well take advantage.”

“Agreed. I can take care of myself, but, you never know.”

“Where’s it going to be?”

“At his house. He said he has an art studio there. At least, that’s what he implied. I’m waiting for a text from him to iron out the details.”

“Maybe he’ll ask to draw you nude?” Rayla flushed red at that, looking down at her almost finished breakfast. “Oh? Something you want to share with the class? A reason you were distracted during kickboxing last night, perhaps?”

Rayla glared up at him, taking a few harsh bites of her omelet. She swallowed, keeping eye contact with him. “He’s cute, I’m single, that’s it.”

“He’s single.” Rayla paused. “He broke-up with his last girlfriend months ago. She made a big Instagram post about it, saying they wanted to focus on their careers. Which was weird because no one even knew they were in a relationship.”

“So, he’s probably used to people trying to use him for fame.”

“Most likely. He keeps to himself.”

“I saw that when I went digging online. His step-father’s the governor and his mother was in the military for a few years, rising through the ranks very quickly.”

“Yeah. They try to keep their channel separate from all that, though. People are always asking them questions about it and they’ll either ignore it or say they aren’t a mouthpiece for Harrow Williams.”

“Fair. I’ll text you the details. I’ve got my coffee, gotta go.” Rayla put a $20 on the table and waved good-bye to Corvus, leaving to head to the office. Well, this just got even more interesting, didn’t it?

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

Callum rubbed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. All night, he had dreamed of Rayla. Her white hair down and around bare shoulders, purple eyes starting deep into his. ‘Come on, Callum. Make me feel good.’ He tossed and turned in his bed, suddenly thankful for the fact he lived alone. His cock was at attention and it was not going to be going down any time soon. Rolling out of bed, he took his sleep clothes off as he made his was to his shower. He winced at the cold water, but sighing in relief as his erection went down. He had no time to rub one out. He was already running late for his meeting with Ezran, Soren, and Claudia. They had to go over whether or not to actually hire a crew now that their channel had six million subscribers.

It would be a smart move. Claudia’s home-made beauty series was getting a lot of attention, as were her and Ez’s baking series. Soren and Ezran’s sub channel and Twitch channel was getting a lot of attention in the video game community for their let’s plays and commentary. Even Callum’s art sub channel was getting more and more attention. He was just worried about going bigger because, if they did, what if drama followed? It had been a PR nightmare when his ex-girlfriend had posted on Instagram about going their separate ways for their careers. Callum had asked her to keep it between them because he wanted to keep his personal life and his YouTube life separate. She had apparently felt that, after they broke-up, what he wanted didn’t matter.

As he quickly ate breakfast, he couldn’t get the idea of Rayla from his dreams or of her in a forest out of his head. Those eyes haunted his every though. ‘She’s a freaking fae. That must be it.’ Callum rubbed his eyes again, sighing. He sent a quick text to Rayla asking if she would be alright with her modeling for him in the woods outside of town. She would probably say ‘no’, but Callum needed to get this image out of his head and out of his system. He had just met her and she was distracting him already. Still, Callum wasn’t so sure he could ever get someone like her out of his system. Even if they had sex a week straight, he would probably still crave her. ‘Stop getting ahead of yourself, Callum. She’s probably in a relationship, you just want to draw her, and you have other things to focus on right now.’

All day, as the group discussed the benefits to do YouTube full-time, barring Ezran because he was still in college, a Scottish accent and a pair of soft eyes stayed in the back of his mind. Beckoning him to find her and take her under a waterfall in the forest. Would she scratch and like it rough or did she like to go soft and slow, like a wave?

Ezran snapped his fingers in his face. “Callum, focus.”

“Right. So, I think taking a step forward is a good idea….” He didn’t have time to be thinking about faeries in suits from Scotland.

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #tdp #the dragon prince #au #replay #moonbase fanfics

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sierrabinondo · 3 years

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2020

damn my last tumblr post is the last day of woodland creatures, did i not do a 2019 wrap up?? i feel like i did. oh well lmao

so, arguably the most tumultuous year in modern history (at least, american history- all pandemic and political events considered) is about to come to a close. it was very not fun experiencing a pandemic as millions lost their loved ones to covid. i was part of the 20% of people that became unemployed as a result of the economy taking a huge dump. i would not want to experience this same year again if it meant that every life lost could be saved. with the year i was given, i made the best out of it that i could.

like every other person on this earth (except for where the virus was already spreading), this year started out normal as hell for me. i was hating my job but chugging through each week, with the occasional show to worry about and then planning our band’s 2020 release plans. despite my salaried job, i was barely making enough to put anything away in savings, forthcoming disney trip aside. i really felt like i was putting in all this work at a full time job just to barely stay afloat and it grated at my soul. i don’t dream of labor, and i only take jobs like this because nothing i am passionate about truly makes money and the marketing jobs i would actually care about are never available to me/never come to fruition after submitting myself for consideration.

disney was a huge highlight of my year despite being deathly sick. i keep wondering if i had covid (i never figured it out), but it sure as hell felt like it. i feel like if i did have it i would have passed it on to jeremiah and his family but i didn’t. i could still kinda taste, but not smell because i had the worst sinus infection i ever had in my entire fucking life. like i know i get them a lot but really, holy shit. i really had it bad. it started when we were in the studio the 2nd to last weekend of february on the last studio day. i had to go back to the studio several months later because i was that unsatisfied with how the vocals came out. i didn’t want to fuck up these releases and have my performance be mid so i was willing to pay to have to re-do everything. i assumed if this was like any other sinus infection, it would go away in a week.

lmao.

i had that infection for THREE WHOLE FUCKING WEEKS. i played a show with that monster sinus infection, and went to disney with it. i went two weeks without meds because i really was convinced it would go away on its own. before we left for disney i finally got antibiotics at urgent care and couldn’t drink most of the trip which sucked. but that finally did the job, and the infection waned when we returned from disney. despite being physically weak, in pain (there was one friday my body pains were so horrible that jeremiah contemplated taking me to the hospital), and leaking snot all over my sleeves the entire trip (LIKE IT WAS THAT UNCONTROLLABLE. I HAD NEVER GONE THROUGH THAT MANY PACKS OF TISSUES IN MY LIFE. I WAS LEAKING SO MUCH I HAD TO LOCATE THE BABY CHANGING STATION IN MAGIC KINGDOM. IT WAS LIKE A SECRET STERILIZED TROVE OF HAND SANITIZER, WIPES, TISSUES AND BABY OIL.) i had an amazing time at disney. and it was my first time going with a significant other so it was incredibly fun. it was also a wonderful opportunity to spend time with his family. the only very not fun part was missing our nephew in the main street parade because some bozos fucked up the info they gave my sister-in-law and we were out walking around when his high school band had actually marched earlier than we thought.

it’s funny, because that weekend after we returned was the last weekend of “freedom” everyone had before lockdown. we were weary of covid while in florida but still living it up on vacation. at that time, there had only been 3 cases in orlando. 3!!!! i had plans to go to a party once home but i cancelled only because i still wasn’t completely out of the woods and 100% well again. i felt so bad cancelling because it was for my friend’s party and she never really did parties usually :( and i thought it wouldn’t be a good idea considering i may or may not have had covid.

then... the following week came.

monday we got a weird email from our CEO saying there was going to be salary cuts and that it was essential for the company to survive a downturn. i pouted but my parents consoled me saying it was better than nothing; maybe look for a new job. and then- i got the nothing! a day or two later, i was let go. and i could tell my manager was absolutely not souped to be giving me this call at all. she literally prefaced it like, “this sucks, but-” and gave me the news. and i was utterly devastated, sobbing controllably, because i was just scraping by on this income to begin with. and i had JUST, finally, received health insurance through this job. i was asked to continue working through friday the 20th, which i would be paid for, and then i would have to return my laptop and any other work materials (like printouts and promo stuff) i had possession of.

that day and the days following i had coworkers calling me or emailing me telling me they were so sorry. i was the first to be let go, and they were kind enough to extend words of encouragement to me. clients i worked closely with, a couple of them around my age, assured me that i could use them as a reference. many of my colleagues were my higher-ups, but were very down-to-earth people. one call that stuck out to me was from my colleague sarah.

sarah was candid with me and said, “y’know how i was unemployed for 6 months?” i knew this well though we had only worked together for a year and a half; it was an important part of her path to where she was in her career now and why she chose it. she continued, “those were the best 6 months of my life.”

and i would come to find out that yes, me too being unemployed was the best fucking time of my entire goddamn adult life.

when i posted i was officially unemployed i had an outpouring of support from my friends, and received enough animal crossing commissions to pay one month’s rent. the first day i finally felt peace was when i was sitting on my porch on an abnormally warm march day playing animal crossing following my last day at my company. it was like the universe was giving me a hug and telling me everything was going to be all right.

what would come was a pretty chaotic couple of months. jeremiah, my roommate and i would stay up until 3 am either watching anime or playing video games, subsequently sleeping until 11 am or noon. pair having fun, drinking (mostly me lmao) and lounging about with the scary realization that thousands of people every day were dying of covid and it could be my high-risk parents. i would cry at night and be so fucking scared. my sibling would tell me my family was being reckless, running unnecessary errands, and whenever my dad showed up to drop off food or necessities i would cry because i couldn’t hug him. i’m even getting choked up thinking about it now. and it was a fear that returned during the second spike around the holidays because it is the loss i fear the most.

amidst this really horrible time, i would play games almost every other night online with my friends and it was so much fucking fun because all of us were either unemployed, furloughed or working from home. we’d laugh so goddamn hard our voices were hoarse. one of my favorite memories is playing quiplash with the creatureposting gang and then my big friends from college. and a really fun night in particular was SIIE release night, i popped a bottle of champagne and got absoluely zonked lmao. every few days i would have something to look forward to, some sort of virtual plans with my friends. this would continue until july when my friends were slowly starting to go back to work.

most of my early quarantine days were as follows: wake up, watch anime, work on commissions for most of the day, order extremely good food for delivery, play video games, and then bed. at one point commissions became so overwhelming i started to get slower at churning them out. though this became a daunting project, WOW it really forced me to become a better artist. and this year i got to spend so much more time drawing, which was fantastic.

one thing i DID NOT spend a lot of time on at all? ugh. MUSIC. FUCKING MUSIC. i barely touched my guitar, stopped writing lyrics after july, and barely completed the instrumentals for about 3 songs. the only thing i consistently practiced was singing (because i would literally curl up and die if i didn’t). do you have any idea how much i blabbed to my therapist in 2019 about how much i would get done if i didn’t work full time and could just focus on my creative endeavors? and then life HANDED that shit to me on a silver platter the following year. i really did nothing insane musically with my time. and now i am really kicking myself for it. if i think about it, it was mostly because i was so exhausted from doing AC commissions, and partly because i was really intimidated about the prospect of struggling through songwriting. now i really wish that i had tried.

one thing i started doing this year was streaming. i originally planned to just do it for fun, because i am horrible at video games and i really didn’t expect much out of it. i thought it would be cool if my friends could watch me play animal crossing. and then i unfortunately learned that this 3rd expensive pasttime is actually really, really, really fun. i started to spend half my week streaming and it led me to either getting closer to some online friends i only talked to a lil previously and making new friends. viewers would ask me if i continue to stream after the pandemic was over, and i enthusiastically assured them i would. and i meant it. even with the difficulties of returning to work and the band playing shows again considered, i really wanted to. i don’t get invited to things anymore anyway, so fuck it if that’s what i stand to lose lmao.

when the curve flattened in jersey i decided to become lenient again and start meeting with my bandmates. we spent the year trying to finish some new material and chip away at what work we have to do for the full length (yes, a full length). we had plans to tour this year and it sucks that fell through. we also had plans to do so much more content during the pandemic and we faltered under the stress of... well, existing in a pandemic. we did finally get to drop a new single though, and the difference in hype now vs when we dropped our last work was incredible. i am so thankful we were able to build an audience with nothing new for two years. i still often beat myself up because god every day i look around me, at our peers, and wonder where the fuck we’ve gone wrong to have such a slow build. and even daily just trying to stand out and prove that we have cut our teeth/deserve a chance is so demoralizing. i feel like it’s even worse than before. i literally have to talk to myself out loud, both alone and during interviews lmao, to remind myself that we truly have accomplished so much. and to take in and appreciate the little positive things. because this could all be over in a second. and this won’t be forever. the older we get the more we are risking for this, both time and resources, and it won’t do to let myself get bogged down over my inner competitive voice. but god it’s hard. like even with new music we still didn’t even TOUCH any of the goal numbers we set for ourselves in may. though we did put out less music than we had planned, and we really hope to change that in 2021 forreal.

there was a single we were supposed to put out this year that’s on hold due to some pending assets but goddamn. if we really don’t break some sort of ceiling with this one i don’t know what will. i have the strongest gut feeling about the next single and in my opinion, it’s the best one we’ve had to date. when we play it at shows, the air in the room sometimes shifts. i’m eager to see what the response is and i’m so ready to push it with everything i have.

fuck this is getting so much longer than i planned i have to try to wrap this up lmao.

with our government stimmy money we turned around and got the dog of our dreams. we figured, i’d be home enough to watch him, and it was finally goddamn time. it’s why we moved into a house and not into another apartment. i was so scared meeting the puppy parents, and totally on edge the entire day. we went out to meet the breeder to test my allergies and see how i would react. samoyeds are not 100% perfectly hypoallergenic, but they were often lauded for being so. honestly? i still didn’t feel confident after two hours with the dogs because the pollen out there was bad (one of my WORST allergies) and i had mysterious hives on my arms i couldn’t figure out where they came from. for months jeremiah and my parents had to calm my nerves and remind me i lived with 3 cats before i moved out (i’m more allergic to cats) and that i would be fine. i had to do a lot of work on myself to get out of my own way about being excited about finally owning the dog of my dreams.

this little fucking boy. i couldn’t believe he was real. neither in the pictures i often looked at about 20 times a day on the breeder’s facebook page nor when we went to meet him. and he was truly, truly perfect. our little shithead. when we went to go pick him out, he sat apart from his puppy pile of brothers, sniffing around the room and trying to rip off his ribbon collar. we locked eyes and he fuCKING APPROACHED ME. i could not fathom any other puppy in the room being brawly. this was the one. we could already tell he was a mischevious smartass, because once he untied his ribbon he proceeded to rip off the ribbons of all the other puppies. but he was the cutest, flopping over on his back when you were near to get belly rubs.

ever since we have picked him up he has simultaneously been the biggest joy in our lives and the most source of stress lmao. that first week, and the next couple, werE FUCKING ROUGH. i had a horrible anxiety attack when i couldn’t calm him for bedtime the first saturday he was home and i was loudly sobbing to jeremiah that i couldn’t handle this shit lmao. he was so scared i was having regrets but i am just a fucking anxious wreck and not used to having a DOG!! this is my first dog!!! but while i can remember what life was like before him i cannot imagine going back. the first time he got sick and we took him to the emergency vet i cried so hard. when he is wagging his tail happy to see me and he looks like a fuckin seal because his ears are folded back it is the best feeling. i’m so excited for when he gets older and we’re vaccinated for covid so that we can take him on so many adventures. he is truly the best.

there is so much more i want to say but this is long as shit. this is even painful for me to read lmao. it’s always been for me, a guy with dogshit memory, to remember everything, but so, so much happened. so i’m gonna wrap up the real descriptive stuff with this.

being unemployed allowed me to just experience life. to wake up each day, enjoy the sun in my backyard, have time to try new recipes, go for long walks, GET A DOG, get better at art, get better at singing, spend more time with friends (virtually), bond even harder with my amazing, beautiful boyfriend, create amazing work with my bandmates, improve at video games, connect with people all over the world, and so much more. all my life i let money dictate my every move. i am insanely privileged to have experienced this but when i had to just live within my means off unemployment i did just fine. i once believed i was perpetually indebted to my employer when i was discarded like it was nothing. i can get a job anywhere and be fine. it strengthened my class consciousness and while i have control over my own destiny it is our country that has so royally screwed us of living the lives we should be living. our lives do not revolve around labor. so until we win the fight and get what we deserve, i will be returning to work next month (full time... in commercial real estate.... again), but i will do whatever it takes to replicate the everlasting feeling of joy i felt this year for the rest of my godforsaken life. if that means struggling for 2021 to build up my twitch channel and the band, working 9 hour days and then streaming/writing music for another 4, so be it. i felt from a young age i was not destined to live a normal life and that feeling has stayed with me no matter how much i have tried to play the game of life as i have been told. i finally have the confidence to pave the life i want.

so, if you are here at this very spot because you read everything, thank you. if you are here because you scrolled to see how long this was, here’s the TLDR of my best parts of 2020:

- tapping out cover

- the 2 shows we played lmao, maybe 3 tops

- disneyworld

- ACNH outside on the porch on release day in warm weather

- making banana bread

- learning how to BRINE meats

- watching anime until 3 am, namely the time we watched pokemon journeys until 3 am

-watching so. much. anime.

-watching livestream concerts with my friends (the chon one was a real good time)

-playing jackbox with my creatureposting friends, the volcano saga (if u know u know)

-playing jackbox with my big friends

-the first time we ever had panchos and juanchos

-finally having sushi again after painful cravings and being grumpy

-the first time we had chinese food again after the lockdown began

-hitting the punching bag for the first time in forever (my dad bought me one)

-the first time we had ramen in forever

-surprising joe with cake at his doorstep for his birthday (we thought he would be the only one with a pandemic birthday lmao)

-playing monopoly and wheel of fortune on the switch, surprisingly having fun

-jeremiah’s birthday

-getting PAID for my ART

-writing + recording ONE (1) acoustic demo

-finally finishing the singles, fixing the vocals

-shooting band promos

-unus annus

-meeting samoyeds

-meeting BRAWLY

-streaming except for the times 13 year olds cyberbullied me

-my birthday when my mom got me a terrifying singing birthday candle contraption and my sibling curbstomped the shit out of it (i was literally crying laughing like that kind of noiseless laugh cause you’re laughing that hard)

- getting the stamp of approval from andrew wells and anthony green

-my friends having their first baby!!!

-dying from thanksgiving charceuterie board

-that week i binged ghibli movies on an hbo max trial and did nothing else

-filling the front porch with plants and most of them SURVIVING the fall, possibly winter but we’ll see in 2021 lmao

- (in general) nailing riffs i fucking sing over and over when practicing but prob won’t get down good enough to sing in front of others lmao

-solo inflatable pool hangs

-thursdays with sarah in the fall playing with the puppy

-the release of the first WSA single in two and a half years

-virtual movie night with sarah watching happiest season

-the music video shoots

-brawly experiencing CHRISTMAS

-receiving really thoughtful gifts from jerry and my parents

-deciding i would work towards being a full time streamer to supplement being a musician

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headoverhiddles · 4 years

Text

I Spit On Your Garage - Tatum Riley (Scream) x Reader [Smut/Fluff]

Synopsis: You and your girlfriend do your best to survive the killings plaguing Woodsboro, while being the cutest couple around.

Notes: Here's your daily reminder that my little bi heart cries for Tatum always 🙃

You have the house to yourself this weekend, so naturally, you find your girlfriend to invite her over.

"Tate!" you shout across the school lawn. She comes running over to you in her black and white cropped jersey.

"Hey, babe. What's up?" She gives you a quick kiss and takes your arm, her usual cheerful self. You walk up to the doors with her, joining Sidney and saying hi to her.

"Parents are out of town," you tell her. She squeezes your arm excitedly, gasping.

"Say no more. I'm bringing ice cream, sparkling wine, and handcuffs."

You blush, and Sidney covers her ears.

"Catch you two later," she laughs, and dashes off before she has to hear any more about your sex life. That's when Stu makes his presence known from behind you two.

"You were saying?"

"Get outta here," Tatum beats her ex's shoulder with her bag.

"Oww! Just wanted to say, there's a party tomorrow night at Sid's."

"Oh. Does... Sidney know about this?" you ask him.

"Not yet. But her dad's out of town, so we'll drop the suggestion to her." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Whatever," Tatum mutters, "We might make it. If we're not too busy with our tongues in strange places."

You cover your mouth, giggling, and Stu looks at you two in awe.

"Aw, man... why'd we never do that?"

"You never made me cum with your dick, why should it be any different with your tongue?"

You and Tatum slap each other a high five, then a low five, as Stu grumbles.

"See you two at the party tomorrow night."

You both mumble your agreement, distracted by one another. Tatum gives you a playful little lick on the cheek, and blows you a kiss as she runs off to her English class, blonde braids bobbing behind her.

"I love you! You're adorable!" you call after her.

"You're sexy! I love you too!" she calls back, running backward, and nearly trips over Freddy the janitor.

As you continue walking down the hall, books hugged close to your chest, your lovesick smile fades. It had been an unnerving week. Casey Becker and her boyfriend Steve had been murdered... like, gross-out murdered. They found her hanging from a tree by her intestines. That's some serious horror movie shit.

The thing is, they haven't caught the killer yet. He's still out there, somewhere in Woodsboro, waiting to strike again...

The voice of reason, aka your girlfriend, returns to your head, telling you there's no way it's not an isolated incident. But as you take your seat in Spanish, all you can think of is a white mask, mouth as long and dark as Casey Becker's casket.

Later that night, at your place, Tatum arrives faithfully with all the items she said she'd bring. She collapses onto your bed, getting into one of your T-shirts. You're in your bra and panties, the LA heat stifling tonight.

"Hey... pretty spooky about what happened to Casey and Steve, huh?" you say, drawing your curtains closed as the sun finally goes down on your remote property.

"Yeah. It's hitting Sid real hard, since it's the anniversary of... y'know."

"Right." You tie up your hair. "Silly, I know, but I've been looking over my shoulder, making sure my windows are locked and stuff."

"I don't know, man," she hums, "It creeps me out, but we're pretty set. We've got Randy, who knows exactly what to do and what not to do to survive a horror movie."

"True. Plus, your brother's a cop."

"Debatable."

"He's got influence in the local law enforcement," you correct, smiling and sauntering past her.

"Also debatable." She snorts. "The doofus wouldn't know the killer if he was stabbing him in the face."

"Don't joke about that," you mutter, tossing a strewn pair of panties at her, "I like Dewey."

"Yeah," your girlfriend inspects her nails, "I do too."

You peek up through the hole to make sure you turned the porch light out.

"Huh."

"What?" Tatum calls, blowing on her nails to cool.

"It's just weird... there must be something blocking the peephole. I tried to look out but it's all black."

Tatum is quiet for a second, and her silence makes you hesitate as well. "You don't think...?" you begin to mutter, and Tatum glances up.

"Don't worry, babe. It's probably some kids or something, stuck some gum over it. It was just Halloween, could've been a prank."

"Yeah," you agree, not believing a word of her theory. You walk back over, hold your breath, and take another look. A chill runs through you as you see that the peephole is now unblocked.

"Tatum--"

"Mmshhh," she mumbles, her arms sliding around your middle from behind. Her face presses into your back, and she starts kissing the back of your neck, "Let's not forget, we have the place to ourselves. We shouldn't worry about stupid perverts probably trying to watch."

You huff, making sure the door is locked. Then you turn around, to face your persistent girlfriend. Tatum gives that evil smirk, licking her bottom lip slowly as she begins to unbutton your blouse.

"You know," you smile, taking her hands and leading her back toward the bedroom, "Having sex is on Randy's no-no list of surviving a scary movie."

Tatum rolls her eyes. "Randy just can't get laid, and he wants everyone to suffer with him."

"Maybe he's got a point," you tease, moving the two of you to the bed so that Tatum is laying underneath you. Her blonde hair splays out around her head as she stares up at you, amused. "I mean... have you seen Friday the 13th? That whole franchise is about killing horny teenagers."

"Yeah well, we're immune. The rule doesn't apply to lesbian sex. Have you ever seen two girls in one of those movies bite it for having sex? Nope." She pops her 'p' with those perfect lips.

You burst into giggles, and she giggles with you, wrapping her arms around your neck. You concede, pressing your lips to hers, and her giggles turn to moans as you thread your fingers softly through her hair.

"You look like an angel, laying on a halo of hair," you mutter, and she raises an eyebrow.

"What the hell was that?"

"I heard it in a country song," you giggle, and her face blooms into a beautiful smile.

"It's sweet. You know, nobody's ever been this nice to me in a relationship, (y/n). It's nice to feel... appreciated."

"Ditto." You kiss her cheek, and her hands find your panties, fingers sliding in. She's giving that vixen look again that gets you weak. She tugs your panties down, and patters her fingers along your inner thighs, as if she doesn't know what to do with them.

"Mmm," you moan, and she grins, finally moving one finger to rub your clit. You shudder, and she tips your chin so that you look into her eyes. She then goes down, crawling down the bed like a panther until she gets between your legs. Her tongue darts out, and she teases around you for a moment, before going for your sweet spot. She moans.

"You taste so good."

"God," you breathe, fisting at the sheets, "Tate, Tate... baby, I don't deserve you."

"Yes you do. You really do," she replies, and goes back down on you, licking your clit and dipping every now and then a little lower to taste your wetness. After a few minutes of this, hearing her soft moans between your legs, seeing her head bob and move and feeling her tongue slide, you're going to climax.

"I'm-- I'm so close," you gasp, and she swirls her tongue around your bud as you ride your orgasm out.

"What a good little girl," she grins.

You reach down, pulling her up into another kiss as you roll her on top of you. She pulls her panties off, biting her pink lip, and as she continues rubbing you, you slip two fingers into her, curving them and letting her lower down.

"Ahhh, oh god, yeah," she groans. She's always the dramatically loud one in bed. It's a super good thing no one's home.

She starts to ride your fingers hard, and you reach up with your other hand to grab her breasts, taking turns massaging them. She does like it rough sometimes, and so do you, but tonight, she's more in control. She rides your fingers even harder, gasping out your name.

"(y/n)... (y/n), make me cum... am I doing good?"

"So good Tate, sweetheart. So good for me."

"I need to--"

"Fuck my fingers, my pretty little slut," you smile, and she tilts her head back, hitting her own orgasm. You take your fingers out, and lick them clean as Tatum crawls up beside you on the bed contentedly, sliding under your arm and smiling hazily.

You're about to go in for another kiss, when the phone on the wall downstairs rings. You groan, and Tatum grabs your bra strap.

"Don't leave me. I'm scared." When you turn back to look, you see she's trying not to laugh. You roll your eyes.

"God, it could be my parents!" She gives up, and follows you down the stairs in a bathrobe she found. Just as you're getting down to the kitchen, the ringing stops... you must have missed the call.

"They'll call back if it's important," Tatum shrugs, and motions for your hand. Then the phone rings again. You both turn to look at it.

"Hello?" you answer. As you're trying to focus on whoever is on the line, Tatum takes it upon herself to slowly give you a striptease with the fluffy pink robe, undoing the tie, sliding it down her shoulder to expose one of her breasts. "H-hello?" you repeat, eyes wide as you watch your girlfriend. She opens her mouth in an 'o', presenting her boob like a game show woman would present a prize.

You giggle, and a voice finally speaks over the line.

"What's so funny?"

Distracted, you turn away, still smiling. "Dude, who is this?"

"I asked you first."

"My girlfriend's making me laugh. Randy? Is that you?" Tatum starts to slip the robe all the way off. She kicks it away with her foot, and saunters toward you.

"Talk fast, cause I'm three seconds away from hanging up," you bite your lip, dying to touch Tatum again.

"You hang up on me you little bitch, I'll cut your fucking head off."

Your stomach drops, and Tatum immediately notices the alarm in your expression. She hangs over your shoulder, trying to hear.

"Who is it?" she whispers.

"Uh..." you breathe. "It's... I..."

"(y/n)?"

"I don't..."

Tatum takes the phone. "Who is this?!" she demands.

"Oh. Just somebody who wants to talk."

"Talk to someone else, we're busy."

"I want to talk to you."

"Well, I want a million bucks and you to hang up."

"You must be the funny girlfriend."

"Look. What did you say to my girlfriend, creep?! She looks like she saw a ghost!"

"She will. And so will you."

The line goes dead, and Tatum looks at the phone, frowning. You've never seen her so unsettled, but as usual, she tries to hide it under a breezy smile.

"Ah, don't worry about it. Prank call."

"Yeah," you bite your nail, and Tatum picks up the robe, taking your arm and leading you away. You get into bed upstairs, and before she joins you, she makes doubly sure the doors are locked.

---

You and Tatum arrive at Sidney's around 10, and end up sitting on the couch, making out for a bit. Tatum's a little bit tipsy by 10:30, and you had a few hits off a joint, so the two of you are having a good time. Sid's upstairs with Billy, "talking".

Stu, Randy, and a couple others are sitting on the couch opposite you two.

"Tate, would you get us some more beers?" Stu asks. She glares at him.

"What am I, the beer wench?"

"I'll come too," you grin, thinking of the privacy you two'd get in the garage. Then Randy turns Halloween on the TV, and you gasp. It's your favorite horror movie.

"You stay here and be my cute little nerd," she pats your head and kisses it, "I'll be right back."

"You shouldn't say that," Randy calls.

"Why not?" you ask him, grabbing some popcorn.

"Rule of thumb in a horror movie. If you say I'll be right back, you never come back."

"Hey, careful, Wes Craven," you scoff, "That's my girlfriend you're talking about." Randy puts his hands up. "Besides, why are you so convinced we're living in a horror movie?"

"The body count is rising, (y/n)."

He shuts up when Stu starts making 'woooo' ghost noises, but you start to worry. Randy's right. There was another murder today, and you had gotten that strange phone call last night...

In the garage, Tatum opens the mini fridge and picks out some beer bottles, filling her arms. She hums 'Sweet Dreams' to herself as she kicks the fridge door closed, and hears a rustling behind her.

"So, you gonna help me break all these over Stu's head when we get get back in there?" she asks. She nearly jumps when she turns and sees someone other than you standing by the door. "Oh, shit. Thought you were (y/n). Randy?" The costumed figure shakes his head. "Oh, okay. What movie is this from, I spit on your garage?"

She tries to move past him with a dismissive huff, but she looks down to see a knife in his hand. Her smile fades, and she backs up.

"I think I'm gonna go check on Tatum," you tell Randy.

"Oh, come on! This is the best part!"

"Randy, it's 12 minutes in, Michael hasn't even escaped the hospital yet."

You hop over the back of the couch, and make your way down to Sid's garage.

"Oh beer wench!" you call down the hall, "What're you doing in there, brewing it yourself?" You can't really hear her inevitable snarky reply over the beat of the music, so you keep walking.

Inside, Tatum backs away from the killer.

"You better stay far away from me, asshole," she warns, and when he takes a step, she throws a bottle at his balls. It shatters, and he doubles over, giving her a chance to run. The only way out is through the doggy door... she doesn't know if she can fit, but it's preferable to getting stabbed.

You hear a faint crash, and the sound of the garage door opening. You rush the rest of the way there.

"Tatum!" you scream, and push the door open. She's stuck in the doggy door, and it's going up. You scream again, and tackle the tall figure in the costume out of sheer protectiveness. You take a nearby crate, and break it over his head, making sure he's good and down before you get up.

"(y/n)!" Tatum calls weakly, eyes wide as she looks her death right in the face. You run over, grabbing her hands and helping pull her out of there before the door reaches the ceiling. She holds tight to you, and falls into your arms, crying into your chest.

"It's okay," you whisper, stroking her hair. She finally pulls away, wiping her trailing mascara.

"You literally saved my life."

"Um. Yeah?" you breathe. She surges forward with a deep kiss.

"I god damn love you, (y/n)."

You two leave out the garage door, unwilling to step over the unconscious killer, and from your portable phone, you dial Dewey's number. You have to hold the phone away from your ear as he shouts about Tatum. She snatches the phone, sniffling.

"I'm okay, doofus. Yes, of course, (y/n) was there. She's my hero. Or heroine." She bats her eyelashes at you, then her expression sours. "No, Dewey, I'm not on heroin! I almost died, asshole! No-- I don't know, I didn't stop to check who! See you soon. Don't tell mom."

You two sit, waiting for the cops and paramedics, hand in hand as people start to file out of the party, wondering what the hell happened.

"So... why'd you go out through the dog door?"

She laughs. "Do not start with me. I panicked, okay?"

"But the dog door? Really, Tate? With those boobs?"

"You know I have one brain cell, and it died when I saw the guy with the knife." You just hug her close to you.

At least she's still alive-- that's all that matters.

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