#i knew he was going to look insanely hot in uncharted but this is too much

[hrryshoney]

soon you will be mine, but i want you now

matty healy x reader

A/N: the picture? i’m just a sleaze, sorry! yeah this is part 2 to my previous matty fic! again, i apologize for any switching perspectives. lmk if i’m bad at writing smut.. honest reviews pls!

warnings: smut, literally sex lmao. idiots in love, are they gonna fuck while he’s sick? …sorry, but it wasn’t that bad in the first place! the drama queen likes to play it up. very wordy. bad writing..?😕

You and Matty were friends. Best friends. Well, maybe more than that now. Because you didn’t know any friends who did this with each other, best or not.

Matty’s lips were on yours. Moving firmly against one another. You were in a daze, it seems, because you don’t know how or when you began straddling his lap. Or maybe he put you there? Either way.

He was kissing you with such fervor that it made your whole body hot. He bit down on your lip, and you let out a truly pathetic gasp. This gave him an opening, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

Matty Healy was going to drive you insane, if he hadn’t already.

You pulled back and put your hands on his chest, breathing heavily. “Need air, Matty. Jesus, you got the lungs of a swimmer or some shit?” You move your neck back farther.

His lips chase yours. He pants, “Just got a lot of practice.” He attaches his lips to your neck. “Wanna practice on you, now.” You feel his teeth sink in, a little above your collarbone. His mouth sucks on the spot.

“You’re- you’re gonna leave a mark.” Your sentence is finished off with a half whimper/half pant. He’s really affecting you. Who knew suppressing emotions for your best friend would lead to tension filled foreplay?

“Mhm, good. Show ‘em all.” He licks over the spot he just sucked. “Can’t wait to see the mark, been wanting you like this for too long.” This is a Matty you’ve never seen before. Eyes dark, ravenous. His hair is messy atop his head, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. You think you want to become accustomed to this Matty.

“You have?” It’s a genuine question, although a stupid one. He just gave you a hickey and you’re asking if he wants you? Maybe it’s an ego thing, but you just want confirmation. You’ve been pining after him for far too long, and now that you have him.. it’s safe to say you want to keep him.

“You’re an oblivious little thing. I’ve always fancied you. Thought for sure ya noticed. Doesn’t matter, though. Have ya now.” Matty continues his assault on your neck, moving lower and lower now. The neck of his your oversized tee is moving lower with each kiss. “Can I take this off you, darling?” His eyes search yours for consent.

You barely get to finish your nod as he yanks the shirt over your head. You had forgone a bra today. Thinking you were only taking care of Matty, and that the tee covered your nipples, you didn’t see the point. Now though, on Matty’s lap, you feel all too exposed.

His eyes are glued to your chest, hands resting on your waist and squeezing the skin every so often. That look in his eyes is going to kill you. But what really does it is the small fuck me that’s whispered under his breath. Your hips give an involuntary roll against his own.

Your whimper makes him look up, you roll your hips again. Matty’s groan sounds too good coming out of his mouth. He tightens his hold on your hips. “Stop moving, yeah? Gonna be a good girl tonight and listen to me?”

Now that, you were not expecting. The moan that rips from your chest is something new. That was uncharted territory, something your old flings had never dabbled into. You didn’t think you were getting dirty talk with Matty. Oh, you were terribly wrong.

“Matty, shit. Please, yes, I’m good.” You didn’t know you had a big submissive side inside of you, but Matty is definitely bringing it out. He rolls his hips up into yours, but his hands restrain you from doing the same.

“Awe, you’re adorable, aren’t you? Just wanna be my good girl? That’s alright, love. You will be.” The snicker that comes along with his smirk is another thing you’re not accustomed to. The condescending tone. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

He picks you up from his lap and lays you back on the bed, into his previous spot. Matty had forgone a shirt, something about how hot he was with the ‘fever’. He was only in some sweats, and he looked good. You were aware of your best friends body, but seeing it this way was something else. His muscles and tattoos made your mouth water.

“Eyes are up here, babe.” He laughs at your awed state. His fingers are gilding up and down your leg, toying with the hem of your shorts. “I can take these off?” He asks for confirmation again, ever the gentleman. You nod.

“No, words. Use your words, please.” He smiles, he really is sick, you think.

“Yes, Matty, please.” Your hips buck up as he fiddles with the hem. Goosebumps have risen on your thigh from his touch.

“Good manners too, aren’t you sweet?” He grabs the waistband of your shorts and begins to pull them down. Slowly. Hauntingly slow. He knows what he’s doing, and you hate it.

You’re left in just your light blue underwear, you think it’s only fair if he strips too. “Can you take your pants off, please? Then we’ll be even.”

He simply does as he’s told, and tugs the gray sweatpants down his leg. He kicks them off to somewhere in the room, but your eyes are glued to his briefs.

Without giving you too much time to ogle, his mouth is glued to your chest. Kissing and touching your breasts. “Feel what you do to me?”

He pushed his bulge into your leg as he continues kissing your chest. “Got me so fuckin’ hard from nothing, like a bloody teenager. You always make me this hard.” He groans into your breast.

“Oh, Matty.” Your response is weak, but it’s the only coherent thing that will come out of your mouth.

“Yeah, love when you say my name. Would fuck my fist and think about ya. Moaning, making those pretty noises for me.” You gasp at that, you didn’t think he thought about you in that way.

You knew you’d done it before, but you would never tell. Those nights where you were aching, and desperately needed relief. Where you would slide your hand between your thighs and pretend it was Matty’s. You never knew the feeling was reciprocated.

“Taste so fucking good. Need a real taste. Can I, love? Can I eat ya?” You knew what he was asking, but you were apprehensive. Every time a guy went down on you, you never came. It was nothing personal, you guessed it just wasn’t your cup of tea.

“Yeah, you- you can, Matty. But if I don’t come, don’t feel some way. Never come when guys eat me out.” You shrugged, though you feel your body ignite from the way he looked at you.

“Shame. Guess they weren’t doin’ it right, darling.” He moves down your body and plants kisses on your stomach as he does so. He keeps going when he reaches the waistband of your panties. He kisses you over them.

Matty sits back on his knees and sees the prominent wet spot on your underwear. He puts his thumb atop it and pushes. You gasp, “Fuck, Matty!” clearly not ready for the stimulation.

“All that for me?” And though it’s a rhetorical question, you still nod. “So nice and wet, perfect for me.” He gives you mercy and slides your panties down your legs.

He’s at the edge of the bed now, just laying and staring at your pussy. You almost close your legs out of humiliation, but his strong hands rest on your thighs to pry them open. “Don’t run from me, darling. It’s really a sin to hide this pretty cunt. Really a shame no one’s taken care of her properly.” He runs his finger up your slit, collecting your wetness and pressing on your clit.

Your face heats from his vulgar words, and you let out a whine. Your hands cover your face. “Matty… please.”

“Aw, c’mon. Don’t be shy, ‘m just being honest.” His face gets close to your pussy and you feel his breath against it. The whine you let out is music to his ears. Matty licks a thick stripe, and you let out a guttural moan.

His tongue is all over in the best way possible. He’s sucking on your clit and it’s making you see stars. Your hands fly to his hair and you tug. “Mm, sorry. Don’t wanna hurt ya, just feels good.” You rub his head after your apology.

He speaks, and the vibrations against your cunt are sending you over the edge. “Tug all you want, don’t mind.” You let out a loud moan, and he laughs.

He moves his hand from holding your thigh and sticks one finger in your hole, continuing to suck your clit. Your hips buck from the internal stimulation. His finger moving in and out of you, and his lips around your clit is.. very pleasant, to say the least. Even more so when he adds a second finger.

You let out a sigh of pleasure. Matty curls his fingers. His are so big, yours just don’t compare. 2 of his feels like 3 of yours. He detached his lips from your clit and lays his tongue flat on it. You feel a jolt through your body, the pressure is building.

“Oh! Hm, Matty, I’m-‘m gonna…” You pant out and close your eyes tight, preparing for your orgasm. But it doesn’t come. You don’t cum. That’s because Matty has ceased all movements, moved away from your pussy entirely and is staring at you with a smile on his face.

“Matty! What the fuck, I was just about to cum. Are you serious?” You’re looking at him and pouting, a crease in your brow. He thinks you look positively adorable.

“Terribly sorry, darling.” He pouts back in faux sympathy. “But if you’re gonna cum, it’ll be ‘round my cock, yeah?” He moves to slide his briefs down his legs.

I feel myself nodding absentmindedly. Agreeing, or ready to agree with him. Ready to be compliant for him. And when he takes off his briefs… it really is a sight to see.

Matty’s cock is pretty. Of course it is, just like everything else about Matty. And right now, the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. He’s hard, long and thick. You can see veins popping out, it looks like it hurts.

Your mouth moves before you have chance to think about what your saying, “Want me to suck you off?” and your eyes widen as the words spill out.

“Jesus, what am I gonna do with you?” He asks, and smiles as he looks down at you. Kneeling on the bed, now. Slotted between your thighs. Almost where you need him. “Not today, darling. But thank you for the offer, ‘m sure your mouth feels amazing.”

‘Not today’, the phrase gives you even more hope that this is not a one off thing. That you and your best friend will progress together, and this isn’t just a hookup that will be brushed under the rug.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? Tell me what you like and what you don’t.” He grabs onto your hands, and it all feels so tender. You’re glad Matty’s in your life.

When he thrusts in, you can’t hold the moan. He can’t hold his either. Matty’s noises are heaven sent. He sounds so good. Gravelly and whiny, but domineering. And with your whining in the back, it all sounds like the perfect soundtrack.

“You- you’re so big, Matty. Don’t know how it fits.” If you were in your right mindset, you would never inflate his ego like this. You know it’s big enough as it is. Oh, well. At least he’s endowed enough to back it up.

His smirk says enough. “Yeah? Filling you up good? This tight cunt? So good f’me. Perfect, like you were made for me.” He continues to pull in and out of you at an unrelenting pattern.

“Oh, God! Mhm, right there, please.” You can’t do much of anything else than cry out for him.

“Not God, just me.” He grins as he keeps thrusting into you, the sound of skin slapping fills the room. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” His mouth is right by your ear, you feel feral.

You clench around him. Hearing him pant your name is just the cherry on top. You feel the pressure building again. “Matty, so so close. Please.” Your whimpers and pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Especially not when Matty brings his thumb around to press on your clit.

“Oh, Matty! Yes, yes please!”

“That’s right. My fucking girl. C’mon, be good for me. Cum. Cum all over my cock, angel. You can do it.”

All you can do is yell Matty’s name. You finally feel that release. Your vision goes white and Matty brings his hand to rest loosely on your neck. He’s still pounding into you, and you’re getting very overstimulated very fast.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. So good for me, whole time. My good little girl, I’m close, shit.” Matty is groaning and panting in your ear, his pace never wavering. You think he has too much stamina. Then, you think that’s a good thing, a really good thing.

“Matty, please. Cum for me, please.” And you don’t care how pathetic you sound, begging for him to finish. You need him that bad.

“Where- where do ya want it?”

You don’t even have to think, “In-inside me, on the pill. Please, cum inside me?”

And Matty’s guttural groan is worth it. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me. Cum inside ya, fill you up real nice. That’s what you want, right babe?”

You nod your head so much that it could fall off your shoulders, and Matty’s thrusts are slowing down. You feel his dick twitch inside of you. You feel his cum dripping down your thighs. Matty pulls out, and you know you’re gonna be sore tomorrow morning.

He’s just staring between your legs, and then, “So pretty, should keep you like this all the time.” he takes two fingers and shoves them inside of you, pushing his cum back in.

Your back arches off the bed, “Fuck me, Matty.”

He collapses into the spot next to me, and pulls me into his chest. “Already did that one, love.” We both let out a giggle.

You two lay there in comfortable silence for a couple moments. His arm is around your body, fingers drawing circles on your bicep. Your hand falls to his chest, tracing his tattoos.

You figure you have to break the silence first. “So… can I be incredibly cliche with the ‘what are we?’ line, or do I need new material?”

Matty let’s out a loud laugh at that. He plants a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Y/N, honestly I’ve liked you for the better half of 8 years. If you want to be my girlfriend, then I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.” The words boyfriend and girlfriend make you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl on her first date.

“‘Course I’d be your girlfriend, Matty. Don’t know if you could tell, but I’ve liked you too. Obviously.” You giggle a little. There’s a light and airy feeling in your chest. This is good.

“Mhm, take you out on a proper date after this. Dinner, movie, wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do. Suppose I did it out of order. Fucked ya first, then wooing you on a date, yeah?” Matty chuckles a little, rubbing your arm. You laugh, too.

“You woo me everyday, Matty.”

“Careful, flattery gets you everywhere with me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You smile. Matty smiles. You’re both glowing with happiness. This time, you lean in.

#divider cred: @cafekitsune #matty healy smut #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy fic #matty healy x you #matty healy oneshot #the 1975 smut

[middleearthpixie]

Better Days ~ Chapter Five

Summary: Frerin Durin had the perfect life, until he found out his wife was cheating on him. Now, he’s navigating uncharted territory as an about-to-be divorced single dad. Dating is a mess, he’s dealing with the fallout where his kids are concerned, and really, he would just love a vacation away from all of it. 

Elena Madison is new to Sidleburg, and also navigating life as a newly single parent. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to come down sick, when she hasn’t even had time to unpack the moving boxes, never mind find a pediatrician. And the last thing she ever expected was to meet a man like Dr. Frerin Durin…

Neither Elena nor Frerin were looking for anything, but fate has a way of messing up even the best laid plans. However, both have been hurt and both aren't at all sure they trust themselves, never mind trusting someone else...

Pairings:  Modern!Frerin x ofc Elena Madison

Characters: Elena, Alyssa, Frerin 

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.5k 

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Although zombies—or walkers, as they were called on the show—weren’t her thing, and it was far gorier than she normally cared for, Elena didn't think she didn't really mind it all that much. Frerin settled beside her on the sofa, his arm draped across the back of said sofa. “Do you have any idea who any of these people are?”

“There?” She pointed to the television, then shook her head. “No, not a clue.” 

“How can you not watch this show? Next, you’ll tell me you don't watch House of the Dragon or Game of Thrones, either.”

“I don’t. Although the guy in House of the Dragon is hot.”

“The guy—which guy?”

“I don't know his name. He’s kind of young, dark hair, dark eyes, and hot.”

“Oh, that helps.” He shook his head as he looked down at her. 

“Sorry. I don't watch the show, so I don't know his name.” She shrugged. “I just know he’s cute. Besides, how do you have time for watching all these things? You work insane hours.”

“On-Demand is my best friend. Especially nowadays. I don’t really have time to date much, and between work and court dates, I don't really have the energy for it anyway. But, this is nice.”

“When did you and your ex split up?”

“Last winter, right after the holidays. We waited until after Christmas for the kids.”

“How did they take it?”

He sighed softly, raking a hand through his hair. “The two older ones were pissed at first. Especially Flynn. And I told you how he was on the baseball team with the brother of the kid, right?”

She nodded. “You said he had some trouble with him.”

“Yeah. He’s a Durin. His instinct is to fight to protect and he was protecting his mother, or so he thought. And Maura was just angry. At her mother. At me. At the world. She spends most of her time with her best friend, Holly, probably talking about how her parents ruined her life. You know, how dare they be people and all that. They don't like to think of their parents having sex with each other, never mind with other people.”

She knew that anger all too well, having gone through it with Alyssa to a certain degree herself. It was so tough to blame kids for feeling the way they did—their entire lives changed so abruptly and without any warning and at a time when they were already going through enough themselves with all the changes that took place within their own bodies. “And your youngest? How is he coping?”

“Jake?” A rueful smile came to his lips as he shook his head. “He still harbors the hopes that his mother and I will kiss and make up and she’ll come back home. No matter how many times I explain it to him, he refuses to give up hope and just grows angry with me.” 

“How old is he?”

“He’s ten. He’ll be eleven in March and he keeps asking for Mom to come home for Christmas.”

Her stomach fluttered gently. “And is there any chance of reconciliation?”

He shook his head once more. “Absolutely none. I’d be willing to work out a lot of issues if I thought they could be worked out, but I’m pretty sure she and I have gone past the event horizon on that.” He looked over at her. “What about you, Elena? You said you were a teacher, but you never said what subject or what grade.”

“I teach seventh grade Social Studies over at the middle school.”

“Middle school? Lucky you.”

“Ah, they’re just starting to get attitude at this point, but haven’t gone full-teenager yet, so it’s good age to have to teach. What about you? What made you want to be a doctor?”

“I liked science. I liked Bio and Chem and I was curious to see if I could get into med school.”

“That’s how you chose it?”

“Kind of, yeah. I came out with a BS in Biology and it’s either be a doc or a vet at that point and I was accepted into med school before vet school.”

“So, you were thisclose—” she held up her hand, thumb and forefinger almost touching, “to being a veterinarian?”

“I was, yeah.” He nodded. “But Columbia came knocking before Cornell.”

“Columbia?”

“Yeah. I did my undergrad at Princeton and went to Columbia for med school. I had to stay local because Flynn was two and my ex-wife was pregnant with our daughter, Maura.”

“Oh?” Elena couldn't keep the surprise from her voice. “You were married young.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Flynn was a surprise. I was twenty years old when when he came along, between my freshman and sophomore years. Toni—my ex—and I were just kids ourselves, but her family helped so I could stay in school and then go on to med school.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for being so young.”

“Yeah, well… Let’s just say Toni’s family was… old-fashioned, about her being unmarried and pregnant. We were getting married, whether we wanted to or not.”

He said it softly, but there was no mistaking the hint of bitterness along the bottom of his words, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that. The best she could come up with was, “It had to be rough on you.”

“Yes and no. I mean, they helped us out so I graduated on time, and I wouldn’t trade my kids for anything, but if I’m totally honest? There are times when I wonder what I missed out on, when I think we shouldn’t have rushed into getting married… and I hope to hell that doesn’t sound as terrible as I think it does. I love my kids, I just think I’d have been a better father if I was older when they came along.”

She nodded slowly. “I was twenty-two when Alyssa came along. Done with college, but I had thought about going to grad school. I mean, it all worked out, at least for a while, and I just started my career a year later than I would have, so I didn't lose much in the way of time. But, I had originally thought maybe I’d get my Ph.D and maybe teach at the college level. But, what can you do? Sometimes Fate has other plans for you.”

“There’s still time for you to go back.”

“There is, but the expense? And let’s face it, I’m not twenty-two any more.”

“Yeah, but you’re not over the hill yet, either.”

“Thank you for noticing.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “I definitely noticed.”

Heat crept into her cheeks, and it was definitely a pleasant one. “Well, you’re not dead yet, either, so maybe there’s time for both of us.”

“Maybe.”

She smiled. “So, you wanted to be a vet first but got into med school before vet school?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I wanted to be a vet when I was a kid, but when I learned vets put animals to sleep, I knew I’d be too softhearted to ever do that.”

She tried to keep from laughing, but failed. “Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious, Elena. You can ask Thorin. He teased me about it for years.”

“Brothers suck sometimes. Mine still teases me about stuff.”

“Yeah, but he’s also my best friend, so there’s that, too.” He propped his elbow on the back of the sofa and rested his head against his fist. “So tell me, are you divorced or widowed?”

“Divorced. He had trouble remembering he was married as well.” She sighed softly, pulling her fingers through her hair to draw it back. She couldn't stand it in her face and more often than not contemplated cutting it short. 

“How long ago did you split up?”

“Our divorce was finalized over the summer, June.”

“And how’s Alyssa been?”

Elena nodded slowly. “It was rough at first, but Dan and I were separated for two years before, so she had plenty of time to adjust to it. Now she keeps trying to fix me up with every man she sees.”

He grinned. “So, I guess you’re pretty busy, huh?”

“Are you kidding me?” She couldn't help but laugh as she shook her head. “The only men she ever sees are her teachers and I see enough of them at work and have no desire to date a single one of them. Besides, I wasn't in any hurry to get back to dating anywhere. The horror stories alone are enough to make you want to remain single.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“Well, you’re different.” She shifted on the sofa to face him. “You didn’t use any cheesy pickup lines and you haven’t done nothing but brag about your accomplishments and conquests and how much weight you can bench press, so you’re already ahead of the game.”

“Oh, I could do that, if you want. I’m a total catch. Women can’t keep their hands off me. I’m a selfless god in bed, I bench two-fifty when I hulk out, but that doesn’t happen all that often, and I never miss a leg day if I can possible help it. What else can I bore you with?”

She smiled. “I can imagine you’re really good at calming worried moms and dads, though. You have that way about you.”

“Ahh… the good ol’ bedside manner. They teach that in med school, you know.”

“Really?”

“Well, kind of. They teach you how to give bad news and remain detached but warm enough that the family thinks you’re more invested than you really are. I just built off that. It’s tough sometimes, because you’re not supposed to become emotionally invested in your patients, but sometimes you do despite your best efforts not to. Especially when it comes to little kids.” 

“But your job has to be more happy than sad, isn’t it?”

“Mostly, yes,” he nodded slowly, “but when it’s sad, it’s beyond sad. And being a parent only makes the tragic cases hit closer to home.”

“So, what do you do to cope?”

“Me? I cruise bars and pick up random women for sex.”

“That’s terrible.”

“And it’s also a lie.” He reached for his wineglass, which stood on the wood and glass coffee table. “I hit the gym and take my frustration out in weights. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen too often, but it does happen more times than I’d like it to. Still, the good far outweighs the terrible and that’s why I’m there.”

“Well, you certainly put my mind at ease the other night, even when you said it was possibly meningitis.”

“I didn't want to worry you, Elena, but at the same time, it was a concern.”

“I know, and I appreciated it, even if I worried about that on top of everything else.”

He smiled. “I really didn't want you to be worried, but I am nothing if not thorough.”

“I’ve noticed that about you.” She held his gaze, biting back a smile at how his eyes seemed to darken, more blue than gray now. He was just so handsome, and not in the pretty boy way, either. He was, for lack of a better word, rugged, and had she not known he was a doctor, she never would have guessed it. 

“Yeah, well, I don't want to get sued, you know.”

“I don't blame you.” 

He reached over and drew that same lock of hair that kept slipping into her eyes, away from her face. His fingers lingered along her cheek as he murmured, “Before it bugs you again.”

“It’s habit. I play with my hair when I’m nervous.”

His eyes softened. “I make you nervous?”

“This does.” She gestured between them. “I’m not used to it.”

The air around them seemed to crackle as he leaned in and whispered, “Me, neither,” just before his lips came down upon hers. The fingers that had grazed her cheek now curved against it to cup it and the coarser hair of his beard tickled the perimeter of her lips even as his soft lips moved against hers.

He brought his free hand up to cup her other cheek as his lips parted and she did the same to allow his tongue to sweep along hers in a slow, hot, teasing caress that set her head to spinning almost immediately, just as he had in the kitchen. Set her head to spinning and warmed her blood until she thought she could actually feel it rush through her veins. 

The television was forgotten as he leaned into her, eased her back against the opposite arm of the sofa. She offered no fight, curving against him, easing her arms about his waist to let her hands come flat against the solid slabs of muscle along his back. 

He kissed slowly, taking his time, and the sensations he sent coursing through her almost had her toes curling in her Timberland boots. Elena couldn't remember the last time she’d been kissed this way, so slowly, so thoroughly, as if she was a rare delicacy to be savored, and when he broke the kiss to sweep his lips along her jaw, and then down along her neck, a sigh bubbled to her lips. 

Frerin nuzzled her, then drew back with a hint of a shy smile. “I apologize if that was too forward. I just couldn't resist it any longer.”

His voice was a husky whisper, one that made her smile as she met his gaze and shook her head. “It’s fine. More than fine, really. I don't remember the last time I was kissed like that.”

His eyes almost sparkled with mischief. “I don't mind doing it again.”

His lips met hers gently, and without thinking, she tightened her arms about his waist. He was so solid against her, so warm, and it felt just so perfect. He shifted slightly, easing a thigh between hers and for a moment, she felt like she was back in high school, fooling around with a boy on the sofa in her parents’ den, hoping like hell neither her mother nor father walked into the room.

He was every bit as solid as he looked, and with her hands pressed flat against his back, she felt the firm slabs of muscle beneath the waffled henley fabric, beneath what she imagined was smooth skin. His time in the gym was well spent and it showed and she had to fight the urge to grip that henley in both hands and tug it up and over his head. But it had been ages since anyone had kissed her and a lifetime since anyone kissed her with as much passion as he did. He sent ribbons of desire unfurling through her, ones she hadn’t felt in long time, and although he was obviously joking about being a selfless god in bed, needs she’d managed to ignore for years had come roaring to life as he pressed her down into the soft sofa cushions. 

The thigh between hers pressed upward and as it met the apex of hers, it sent a ripple of fire through her, one that she would have shivered from, had she not caught herself. That fire ignited another, deeper within her, one that had her almost rocking her hips to meet Frerin’s, one that made her clothes feel too warm and too heavy and made her wonder exactly what Dr. Durin looked like naked. Because she definitely wondered that right now.

His weight shifted slightly and a moment later, his hand slid along her sweater, over the curve of her waist, and her breath caught as she waited for it to cup her left breast. 

But, then it went still, and disappointment flashed thorough her.

He drew back then, his eyes heavy lidded as he gazed down at her, offered up the most adorably mischievous smile she’d seen in forever, and bent back to capture her lips with his once more. This time, however, his hand did slip up and when it curved against her breast, she sighed into his mouth without thinking. His fingers tightened against her, kneading her breast until she thought she just might melt beneath his touch, he was that gentle and that teasing and her head spun even harder. 

Her fingers curled into his henley and she tugged it away from the waist of his jeans, then slipped both hands beneath it. Heat wafted from his back, and his skin tightened into goosebumps as she lightly dragged her fingernails over it. In turn, that muscled thigh pressed harder against her, setting off a ripple effect of heat and pleasure that fired her arousal, and dampened the cotton between her thighs.

She rocked to meet him, smiling as his breath caught and his hand tightened on her. He shifted just enough to angle his hips between her thighs and as he settled back against her, the solid ridge of his erection ground into the growing ache. 

It had been almost two years since any man showed any interest in her and feeling Frerin’s arousal fired her blood and brought all of the butterflies in her belly to life. She’d forgotten just how good it could feel to indulge in foreplay with a man who wasn't looking to go straight for the kill.

At least, she didn't think he was. 

Or did she hope he was? It really had been a long time. Dry spell would be an understatement. 

Then the floor creaked and while she didn’t have to worry about parents any longer, she did have to worry about Alyssa, and as the creaking grew louder, she broke the kiss, whispering, “Wait… Alyssa…”

Frerin drew back and glanced to his right, toward the hallway leading to the two bedrooms and main bathroom.“No one is coming,” he said as he turned back to her, his eyes dark and his smile almost wolfish. 

“Still, she could… So we probably shouldn’t do this.”

The desire swirling in his eyes faded a bit as he cleared his throat and whispered, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

With that, he shifted from her, raking a hand through his already-tousled wavy hair. “You know, I don't normally pounce on women like this, Elena.”

“It’s okay.” She sat up and smoothed her rumpled sweater. “I didn't mind the pouncing, I just don’t want Alyssa coming out of her room to this. It’s… it’s soon, you know?”

“Yeah, no, you’re right. We have plenty of time for this.”

“I—I don't mean to be a tease or anything, but it’s been a really long time and you kiss really well and—”

“It’s okay, Elena, really. You’re not being a tease, and trust me, you kiss… damn… ” He let out a soft laugh as he shifted back into the spot where he had been sitting. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s kissed me like that, so I have no complaints, either.”

“Why don’t I believe that? A selfless god, I believe you said? Sounds like you get kissed on a regular basis.”

He laughed again. “Ah, yeah, I might have exaggerated the god part, but I am not exaggerating about being kissed like that. It’s been a long time and I’m not even sure I’ve ever been kissed like this before.”

“Now, that has to be a lie.”

“It’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” He leaned in to just brush her lips once more, then reached for his wine before sitting back. “I really haven’t dated much in the last year. A drink here, lunch there, but that’s about it.”

She picked up her own wine glass. “Same, and the sad thing is, it didn't bother me.”

“Yeah, me, neither. I figured I was just getting old.” He took a sip of wine and the lowered the glass. “Does Alyssa see her dad?”

“Dan has her every other weekend, and he would have had her this weekend, but with her being sick, we both thought it best for her to stay home, so she’ll go see him on Christmas and then spend next week with him instead.”

He nodded. “They have a good relationship, then?”

“They did. And then they didn’t. But they’re getting back to where they were, it’s just… slow going.” She sighed as she reached for her wine glass and took a sip. “She took it very hard when her dad and I split up, and when she found out it was because of another woman? She didn't want anything to do with him for a long time.”

“And now?”

“Now, they’re getting there. He’s trying and I have to admit, he’s a good father when he wants to be. It’s just sometimes… he forgets that he should want to be a good father, especially where his daughter is concerned.” She swirled the wine in the glass’ bowl, then looked back at Frerin. “What about you and your kids?”

“Well, they live with me, so I think I’m ahead of the game there. I’m trying. I don't bring women home for one night flings and I haven’t been in a relationship since Toni and I split, so I’m not sure how I’ll navigate that, should it ever present itself. I’ve been out a few times, like I said, but nothing serious and nothing beyond a good night kiss.”

“That was a good night kiss?” The words were out before she could stop them.

To her relief, he laughed. “Yeah, that was not a good night kiss. I don’t know what came over me, but… I can apologize, like I said, but I’d be lying. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I’ve thought about kissing you since at least the gym, and if I’m totally honest, since the ER.”

“Dr. Durin!”

A hint of color rose along his cheekbones and he looked genuinely embarrassed. “Was I not supposed to admit that?”

“I’m horrified.” She couldn’t keep the shock in her voice and smiled as she laid her hand over his. “I’m kidding. It’s okay. I didn't mind the kiss, although I might have, had you done it in the ER.”

“You would have minded it, admin would have minded it. A lot of people probably would have minded.” He grinned and with a teasing wink, added, “But, it would have been worth it, you know.”

Heat swept through her. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m looking forward to the next time the opportunity to kiss you presents itself.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I have the feeling it will.”

She leaned forward to set her glass on the table. “You sound very sure of yourself, Dr. Durin. Very sure of yourself.”

“I prefer to think of it as very optimistic, actually. I hope I’m not coming across like an arrogant prick, Elena. I’m not so good at flirting these days. Too out of practice.”

“You’re fine. Not too arrogant, but not too self-deprecating, either.” She shifted to snuggle up against him. “Let’s take things slow and see if we can’t do just that.”

“Slow is nice,” he replied, draping his arm about her shoulders as the walkers attacked hapless survivors on the television screen.

They sat in comfortable silence and when the scene grew too gory for her liking, Elena didn't think twice as she turned to bury her face against his chest. “Tell me when it’s over.”

“Yeah…” his arm tightened about her, “don’t look.”

“That poor guy. Who is he again?”

“Abraham.” A solid thwock echoed through the room and even Frerin tensed as he said, “And he had it easy compared to Glenn.”

Squelching sounds came from the television and Elena squinched her eyes so tightly, white starbursts erupted before them. She didn't like violence and didn't like gore and would have regretted agreeing to watch this, but then Frerin’s fingers moved lightly along her hair and he murmured, “It’s not usually this bad, Elena.”

“It sounds horrible.”

He tensed, muttered, “Jesus,” and then let out a slow breath. “It’s safe to look.”

“What are you watching?” Alyssa sounded half-asleep. 

Elena lifted her head to see Alyssa standing on the threshold of the living room. “We’re watching The Walking Dead and I am never watching it again.” She pulled away from Frerin. “You remember Dr. Durin?”

“I remember him.” She rubbed one eye. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m good, Alyssa. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. But better than I was the other night.”

“Good. Ready to go back to school?”

“Ugh… no. I’m not that bored yet.”

Elena smiled. “What brings you out into the zombie domain?”

“I could hear the squishes.” She shuddered. “Zombies are gross. And can I have more tea, Mom?”

“Of course.” 

She started up from the sofa, but Alyssa held up a hand. “I can do it. Enjoy your gross zombies.”

“It’s over, now,” Elena told her.

She padded into the kitchen and Frerin stretched, saying, “I should probably get going. I’ve been up since about noon Monday.”

“Monday?” She couldn't keep the astonishment from her voice. “How is that even possible?”

He grinned. “I’m used to it, is how. I hate working nights, but I’m used to them.”

“But you’re in charge.”

“Yeah, and when we’re short-staffed, guess who steps in?” He rose from the sofa with a soft groan. “And we seem to be running constantly short staffed. Cash-strapped hospital, too many patients, and not enough resources.”

She also got to her feet. “And yet you stay there instead of going into private practice.”

“I’ve thought about it,” he confessed, offering up a somewhat sheepish grin. “The money would be better, the hours would be beyond better. Nine to five, weekends and holidays off would be nice.”

“And yet?”

“And yet, I’m a glutton for punishment.” He skirted the sofa to cross to the front closet to take out his jacket. As he shrugged into it, he said, “I like it there. I feel like I’m at least trying to do some good.”

“I’m sure you’re doing plenty of good, Dr. Durin,” she told him, walking to the front door. 

“I hope so, because it feels like an uphill battle on the best of days.” He turned to her and smiled. “Dinner was delicious, Elena. I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Just tell me where so I know how to dress.”

“It’ll be casual. I don’t know where yet, but it will definitely be casual.” He tugged open the door. “How does O’Connors sound?”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“O’Connors it is, then.” He bent toward her and brushed her lips with a quick kiss and as he straightened, added, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me, too.”

“‘Night, Elena.”

“Night, Frerin.”

#Gerard Butler #Frerin Durin #Frerin x OC #AU #Frerin Fic #Is it hot in here? #Romance #Modern AU #ER AU #Hospital AU #Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fin #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

[chanluster]

the duke and i | {m} ; {f}

teaser | bridgerton! au | f2l! au | approx. 25k words

“The Duke of Hastings can show you much more than what you write of.”

s u m m a r y >> wishing to be a successful writer in the regency period seemed next to impossible for the sole daughter of a dead earl. with arising pressures from your mother to tie the knot, you turn to your dearest friend, hwang hyunjin, duke of hastings and the most eligible, scandalous bachelor of the season, for assistance. when he suggests the insane of idea of marrying each other to help each other, you agree to the proposal, unaware of just how much the duke can teach you of the wonders of matrimony.

w a r n i n g s >> noble! reader, duke! hyunjin, hyunjin is a fucking rake, reader is a fucking nerd, also really really innocent, hyunjin is sosososo hot, a lot of teasing, endearments, sexual tension, kissing, making out, corruption kink!!!!! corruption! fucking! kink! oral (f. receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe hoemies!!) orgasming on multiple occasions, (kind of) hate sex, there is fluff i promise, tiny bit of angst

p l a y l i s t >> here!

t a g l i s t >> @fivefootfuryanon @h0eforhyunjin16 @seoulicitae @linoscult @aliceu @hwangi @shipsaremything98 @babyyynatty @kabira @danyxthirstae01 @sunseokkies @lunefilm @severetimetravelnerd @minaamhh @starry--koo @ninjaleeknow @hyunjeonnies @inlovewithasa @titleisyettobemade @maedesculpaeusoubi​@healinghyunjin @fleeingreality (send an ask if u wish to be added!!)

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e >> hello hi i am finally writing this fic!! bridgerton may be problematic but simon basset was still the sexiest man i’ve ever seen in period dramas so here is hyunjin being that exact sex god in this teaser i hope you enjoy <3

back to masterlist

“____, YOU HAVE WRITTEN A BLOODY MASTERPIECE!”

Your entire body stilled.

“I...I did what?”

“Wrote a masterpiece!” He swiped through the pages, lighting up at each word that passed his gaze. “A bestseller! An award winning novel!” 

A smile worked its way onto your lips. “You...you really think so?”

Sighing out in exasperation, he set the papers upon the desk as he began to lose his initial anger. “How could you be embarrassed about something so beautiful?” He put his hand on the gold chair, leaning onto its head. “Your descriptions were lovely, the characters are perfectly imperfect. You have really outdone a lot of the writers in circulation.”

Your shoulders sagged a little — almost as if you had been carrying a heavy burden, and this man had taken it off of you.

You made sure he saw your joy when you said, “Thank you, blondie.”

Seeing the pure contentment upon your face had your friend looking away, eyes narrowing to the plans once again.

“There was, however, one thing which needed improvement.”

The setback had you straightening once again, eager to hear. At least he was not sweetening it fully. “Go on.”

“As I was reading through, right till the end, I noticed a lack of very important details.” 

That was quite strange. “A lack of?” you asked, when you were so sure that you had added too much of everything.

“Yes.”

His fingers drummed against the velvet of the chair.

“I noticed that there was a deep lack of...passion.”

An incredulous look was your reply. “Passion?”

“Yes, passion. Desire.” He jerked his head towards the papers. “I hardly saw any of those emotions in the book.”

This new information was certainly quite worrying. “But I do not understand,” you started. “My whole novel is based on this relationship, of the love that blossoms and grows—”

“I understand that, darling, I really do,” he said. “I know what you are going to say.” 

The drumming continued. “But where is that residing in the chapters? Where is that physical lust implied in the characters?”

Lust. 

You had heard of the word before. Heard of its implications, yet never grasped the weight of its meaning. Was it just another form of longing? 

If only your mother had given you an education on this side of love.

“What do you mean...lust?”

Hyunjin raised a groomed brow. “What else could I mean, angel?”

The way he voiced that question, that endearment had you parting your mouth, unable to say anything. You tried to speak, to say something to ease the tension which came slithering back into the bedroom.

“I...what were you expecting? From the relationship.”

Curling his locks behind his ear, his gaze became obscure. “You spoke of forbidden love, of...of a coupling which should not be occurring but happened through the fate of the universe. Is that right?”

When you nodded, he carried on. “See, I did not sense that from their exchanges. Their emotions are tame, chaste. An innocence which cannot be tainted.

“Now where is the fun in that?”

You dared not break his gaze. “What is that ‘fun’?”

His eyes seemed to darken. “That ‘fun’ in the relationship is physicality. Where is that in your novel?” 

He took a step towards you. “Where are the unbreaking stares? The curious hands, aching to caress another’s? Where are the trembling breaths, the lust-stained sighs that fan lovers’ lips?”

The duke had you craning your neck back as he looked down at you. “Where are the kisses, my darling?”

You gulped. “K-kisses?”

“Yes, kisses,” he repeated softly. “Lips enveloping lips, tasting your inner workings? Travelling to your neck, your collarbone...places which cannot even be whispered in polite society?”

Each part he mentioned had its goosebumps pricking.

The bastard still did not stop. “Where is that passion, ____? Where is that forbidden love, which makes the heart burn wilder?”

And as he descended before you on his knees, hands settling on your lap, you had a feeling swirl up your sides which had never struck you before.

“If I were the man in your book, I would not be tame with you.” 

His eyes offered a new, intimidating darkness. “Because if you were my woman, then I do not think I’d control myself. The moment I’d catch the innocence dancing in your eyes, I’d have waltzed it away into my shadows.

“Only God could save you from my hunger, then.”

Silence descended upon the two of you.

One waiting for the other to speak, and the other unable to form the words to do so.

The moon had illuminated your husband, one side of his face glowing like a celestial being, the other side basked in darkness. How strange, when he had compared himself to it just a few moments before.

You seemed unable to look away from him. His gaze, always intense, now became so penetrating you wondered whether he could glance at your soul, quivering from his feedback. 

Improvements which you still did not quite comprehend, despite the implications.

Somehow, he could see it on your face. “I have a feeling you still do not grasp the idea. Is that correct?”

A half nod. “I…” God, speak! “I just...I have never understood it, Hyunjin.”

Your head dipped down, darting at the plains of your hands. “You asked me about lust, and I simply cannot answer because I do not know. I have never experienced such emotion.

“Hell, I have not witnessed a single action that you spoke of. How could you expect me to write of desires I have never even felt?”

This.

This was unchartered territory. This was a terrain you had not explored with him.

Yes, he was your best friend. But one does not talk of such...dangerous conservation when your best friend happens to be a man — a complete rake, at that.

It seemed as if the rake, too, was thinking the same. 

His legs, a force which had never let him down, threatened to buckle under him. His mouth opened, only for silence to answer you. 

Lord and all His subjects help him. He did not think he could contain it any longer.

And as his eyes exposed you, vulnerable before him, he only knew of one thing — one fact within this ocean of uncertainty you swam in.

He would jump into the waters for you. But not in the notion to haul you out to safety.

No, the duke would drag you down further, with him as your sole saviour.

Or even your destroyer. Your fated undoing.

For the Duke of Hastings will absolutely ruin you, body and soul.

“Hyunjin?”

A blink.

A singular action, dragging him back to dark, dark reality — sweeter than his fantasies as it sat before him, shy and wide-eyed.

An innocent reality all for him to defile.

“Yes, angel?”

You tried not to shudder at his lilting whisper. “How am I to be helped?”

The man did not even think of the possibilities, to your surprise.

If only you knew, how long he had kept them hidden for.

“How about...how about I assist you?”

Confusion washed over your features. “And how would you assist me, Hyunjin? You have never written a novel.”

His answer was a chuckle, revealing slight glimpses of his teeth as he stood.

“That is true, yes.”

Sitting down beside you, he planted his hands behind him on the bed, leaning into the position. 

“But what I can provide aid for is the one feature you lack in your writing.”

His voice right behind gave you a fright.

“Pure, raw lust.”

Looking over yourself, you watched him reclined in ease. Your speech was uneven as you said, “And...and how will you help me with that?”

“Simple, my darling.” A pause, looking you over. “I shall provide you with examples. Show you what truly happens between a man and woman when all they yearn for is each other.”

He saw the further questions in your gaze. The questions you dared not voice out loud, perhaps dared not understand. 

Smirking, he sat himself up, eyes never leaving yours as his hands encircled your own, bunched up in your dress. As his fingers brushed against your linen he felt his skin go aflame. 

“If, of course, you would let me.”

Tilting your head slightly upwards, you sensed a foreign warmth envelop your face, burning at the sight of your friend studying you like an empty canvas, begging to be filled.

Maybe you were an empty sheet of paper, waiting to be painted with guidance by the master. Maybe that master was beside you all along.

“What will you do to me, Hyunjin?”

There it was. The question which may have been his drug — his purest form of opium. 

Because when his hands travelled upwards, sliding to your face and imprisoning you with his stare, he knew he would become addicted.

A shame he did not care for his well-being when you were so fucking tempting.

“Show you what real passion tastes like.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin oneshot #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin

[troubatrain]

sober - m. barzal (pt. six)

a/n: so after the hell week we all survived in the good ol’ USA my brain finally decided to let me actually write. tbh i wrote this about four times before i forced myself to just finish it and stop tweaking it.

Five

Mat’s kitchen looked like a tornado had run through it. The usually pristine, absolutely untouched kitchen of the young bachelor was getting more use in the twenty minutes Mat had been awake than it ever had. Truthfully, Mat wasn’t a morning person. Mat slept like a rock, and he thought there was nothing besides the fear of his coach that could get him up earlier than noon, but he was wrong. You had him up before eight, hoping if he could beat you to waking up you wouldn’t have a chance to sneak out on him. He did, opening his eyes to catch you snoring softly beside him. He laid there for a moment, his eyes on you because he almost in disbelief you actually stayed. It was a moment of peace, the complete opposite of the mess you’d both gotten yourselves into. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t debating how he was going to get someone to leave, he was figuring out how he was going to get you to stay.

Mat was an absolute whore, and he didn’t care one bit. Why should he? He was young, he was at the top of his game, and his ego got a little bigger everyday. He was just as guilty as you were when it came to his lack of commitment. Mat had never been able to be a good boyfriend, no matter how hard he tried - so he just stopped trying. His schedule wasn’t made for dating, and he never wanted to put the work in. You were different. Something clicked in Mat when he realized how enraged his body felt hearing DeAngelo talk about you the way he did. He was going to let it go, and in hindsight maybe he should have, but he didn’t want to. That protective feeling took over his body because it was too strong for him to shove back down before it got out.

Mat would have told you he loved you after that game, because he does, but he knew he was playing a dangerous game. The reality of what would happen if this was real scared him, but not nearly as much as he knew it had to scare you. You had something to lose, a life that Mat just wouldn’t be apart of. Mat wasn’t in a position to ask you to give that up, especially for someone who you weren’t even dating. Mat knew if he moved too quickly you’d get spooked and run away without giving Mat a second thought. He’d disappear from your memory like everyone before him.

Mat’s thoughts were broken by the sound of your feet padding into his kitchen, your arms wrapping around his waist while you pressed a kiss to his back, “Hi pretty girl.”

This was uncharted territory, the morning after. You’d always been an expert, leaving yourself enough time to sneak out and leave before anyone would notice you were gone. That kept your heart safe, free from the feelings that were present in this very moment. You couldn’t have left last night, slipping out of Mat’s bed and into a cab in the middle of the night, but something stopped you, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“I thought I’d try to make you breakfast,” Mat admits, a smile on his face while he turned off the stove, eggs forgotten to look at you, “I’ll get better at it, I promise, breakfast can be my thing.”

“Your thing?” You muse, letting Mat gently push you onto the island, standing between your legs.

“Yeah, when we fall in love or whatever, I’ll make breakfast,” Mat chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“You’ve lost your damn mind Barz,” You sigh, leaning your head on Mat’s shoulder while you savored the last few moments of peace you were feeling. You were going to have leave his place, off to a four game road trip where Mat was free to fuck whoever he wanted.

Mat’s finger was gently gliding over your face, “If I’m crazy it’s because you made me crazy.”

“You were insane before I met you,” You defend not daring to open your eyes and meet Mat’s gaze, “And now you’re just annoying.”

“I don’t remember being annoying when you were begging me to fuck you last night,” Mat counters back, hands moving to your bare thighs, the warmth from his hands was a stark contrast from the cool counter, “If I’m correct it sounded something like Mat please.”

“Don’t push your luck Mat,” You threaten, his impersonation of you from the night before stopping almost immediately.

“Would I push it if I asked you to stay until my flight later?” Mat asks, eyes full of hope while he tries to hang onto the moment just a little bit longer.

“If you never talk about it again,” You nod, deciding that the damage was already done. You were so far gone a few more hours couldn’t hurt you anymore.

“We can talk about how fucking good you look in orange and blue though,” Mat teases, a grin on his face. You furrow your eyebrows, looking down and realizing just what shirt he had given you the night before. A bright white number thirteen in the corner, with an Islanders logo present on the front.

“Mat if you don’t take this off of me right this second.”

“You never have to ask me twice to take off your shirt babe.”

***

You leaned your head against the window of the private jet that definitely cost more for one flight than your entire salary, taking a deep breath and a break from the laundry list of emails you were due to answer. You were flying to St. Louis for the All Star Game, your plans of a week long vacation somewhere warm with some of the team and their significant others thrown out the door the second Chris stepped in for Panarin last minute. Not even two minutes later, Charlotte strutted over to your desk to tell you that without a need for someone to translate for Artemi, you were the new kid and that meant you had to suffer through the weekend while everyone else took their vacations. 

“At least pretend to be excited,” Chris mutters next to you, taking a break from his own reading and elbowing you in the side.

“It’s hard to be excited when everyone’s on a beach and we’re flying to Missouri in January,” You snark back, pulling your glasses off your face and rubbing your eyes.

“You either need to start sleeping or stop hanging out with that secret boyfriend of yours,” Chris jokes, but it struck a nerve with you.

Mat wasn’t your boyfriend. Mat. Wasn’t. Your. Boyfriend. He didn’t get to have all of you, because he didn’t deserve it - no man does. Nothing about the very small amount of vulnerability that he got to see after that game meant anything. You left that morning and he went on a four game road trip and the world spun on. You could stop whenever you wanted to, move on with some other dumb boy who didn’t care more about you in clothes than without. But did you want to? That was a debate you’d been having with yourself for days.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You grumble, gritting through your teeth. Technically, it wasn’t a total lie.

“So you are seeing someone!” Chris points out, as if your deliberate words were going to make it past him. Chris held most of the intelligence on the entire Rangers roster, and there was nothing that he didn’t pick up, “So, What's the deal? He doesn’t want anyone to know about you or you don’t want anyone to know about him.”

“It’s mutual,” You hum, sipping the coffee that had gone cold.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Chris questions, a cautious tone to his voice, “Not that I think there’s anything wrong with it or anything-”

“No I haven’t found a sugar daddy,” You roll your eyes, waiving Chris and sparing him the lecture that there’s nothing wrong with the idea at all, “We’re just in a limbo.”

“For what it’s worth,” Chris says, taking a deep breath before he finished his thought, “You seem happy, you haven’t snapped on Tony in almost a week.”

“Thanks Chris,” You laugh softly, popping a headphone back into your ear so you could finish up some work.

***

Mat was in absolute disbelief the moment he saw you step into the hotel lobby. You weren’t supposed to be in St. Louis, you were supposed to be on some island in a bikini making him wish he wasn’t good enough to be selected for the All Star game at all. Mat scratched his head for an answer as to why you didn’t mention the change of plans, but then the thing that he spent his entire roadie before he left for St. Louis entered his brain at full speed.

You’re not her boyfriend.

Mat owed you nothing, and you didn’t have to tell him anything you didn’t want to. Mat honestly knew about four things about you and all of them related to your job. He was dying to know everything, even the stuff that didn’t matter that much. Hell, Mat would’ve killed to see the inside of your apartment at this point. He just needed one thing, one thing that he could hold onto that you showed him that no one else got to see. He was sure he’d find it, especially after he finally got you to stay at his place, but now he was starting to think maybe he’d never crack you.

You were going to just avoid Mat like the plague. The hotel was swamped with players, their families, and any staff that had tagged along for the weekend. The city was still buzzing from last season’s Stanley Cup win and there was not a chance Mat wasn’t going to be busy all weekend, because Mat Barzal was an amazing hockey player. You hated to be reminded of it, because if you could have Mat feed you stupid compliments and never remind you of his job you’d be happy forever.

hotel sex is on the table

and you look fucking hot today

You roll your eyes, checking your phone while you were standing in line to check in. You look around the room, trying not to draw any attention to Mat who was giving you a shit eating grin from across the lobby. He looked good, a white button up tucked into suit pants that were doing his ass justice. You look at Chris, who was too engrossed in his own phone to even look back at you.

pretend like i don’t exist right now and we’ll talk

wanna play a game?

that didn’t go well for you last time Barzy

if i beat your buddy kreids tomorrow night you give me one night

you won’t

is that a yes?

fine

You turn around, giving Mat one last death stare to remind him you weren’t kidding on your plea to pretend you didn’t exist. Your job was important to you because you weren’t Mat. You weren’t going to get paid millions of dollars to play and then retire with a pretty penny in your pocket. You worked, and the stress of losing your job would definitely break you. Charlotte instilled fear in you like no other boss you ever had could, and if you got caught messing around with someone who played for another team while you were working she’d probably just fire you on the spot. Not to mention the heartbroken faces of your chosen family. Mat somehow existed in both a different and the same world as you. He understood your work life because it was so close to his, but he had his own work family and you had yours. No matter what, there would always be some sort of weird divide caused by that stupid rivalry. For now, it was just going to have to be something you’d worry about later.

***

You turned in the mirror of your hotel room, the lacy black lingerie set fit your body like a glove, and you were impressed with Mat’s taste given all he ever wore was sweatpants. You look in the corner of the room, the last piece of his little gift sitting in the box. Mat dropped it off earlier, a note on top telling you that when he inevitably smokes Chris in the faster skater competition he had something in mind. You weren’t surprised by his confidence, but you were surprised by the gift itself. Folded neatly in the box wasn’t just the lingerie, a bright blue and orange jersey was right underneath it, a shiny white number thirteen stitched into the back. You knew you didn’t have to wear it, because Mat wasn’t going to force you to do anything, but you were wet at just the thought of how animalistic Mat would probably get. You tossed on the jersey, throwing an even bigger sweatshirt and sweats over it before you snuck up to Mat’s floor- hoping Chris wouldn’t catch you leaving from the room across the hall.

You pull out the room key Mat gave you, sneaking into the door and locking it shut behind you. You slipped off your sweats, leaving you in nothing but the jersey and your panties.

“Fuck,” Mat dropped his phone from his hand the second you came into his view, “I didn’t think you’d wear it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You muse, your confidence boosting while you strutted over to Mat. He had that effect on you, the ability to always make you feel like the sexiest woman in the world - even if you didn’t feel like were, “But then you beat McDavid.”

Mat pulled you between his legs while he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands toying with the jersey while he let the fabric slip through his fingers, “You look so fucking good in my jersey baby.”

“I’m proud of you Mat,” You purr into his ear, playing into Mat’s ego just a little bit. You were proud of him, and for the first time you wanted him to know. You pressed a kiss against his jaw, feeling his own breath hitch in his throat, “Can I show you?”

“Keep that jersey on and you can do whatever you want to me,” Mat admits, slipping his hand under the jersey and tapping your ass lightly.

“I’ll keep it on,” You giggle, pushing Mat on his back and getting to work. Your lips kissed down his chest with every button of his dress shirt you got undone, tossing it in the corner to be forgotten about until later. You unhooked his belt, leaving open mouth kisses just above his pants. You slid off his dress pants slowly, taking his boxers with them to let his cock spring free. Mat groaned at the sight, gathering your hair to pull it back for you.

“Wait,” Mat stops you, holding your hair back to stop you from putting your mouth on him. His finger traced your cheek, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read, “I just want to remember this, you look so beautiful right now.”

You could feel the heat rush your cheeks, Mat had called you to dozens of things but never once did the word beautiful ever slip through his lips, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to blow you.”

“No, baby, I mean it- fuck,” Mat groans, this thoughts halted by your mouth on his cock. His hips snapped up, hitting the back of your throat, “You’re so fucking good princess.”

You moan, hollowing your cheeks and gripping Mat’s thighs a little tighter, giving him the show you so desperately wanted. You head bobbed in a perfect rhythm, taking as much of Mat as your body could handle. Mat pushes your head back, taking a look at the line of spit that was still connected to his dick, your eyes were glassy and your throat was sore but Mat would keep you like that forever if he could, “Let me finish.”

“I’m in charge tonight,” Mat reminds you, the tone in his voice sent a chill up your spine. You knew Mat was rough, and a little demanding but he never crossed that line with you, “On your knees.”

“Like this?” You tease, sitting up on your knees to rile him up just a little bit more.

“More like this princess,” Mat stands behind you, gently pushing you down so your ass was in the air. He was quiet, bunching up his jersey so he could get a full view of the lingerie he went out and bought just for you, “Be good or I won’t let you cum pretty girl.”

Mat’s threat with a light smack to your ass, a moan escaping your lips. He slipped the black lace panties to the side, gliding one of his fingers against your folds while he pressed a kiss to your skin, “So wet for me already.”

“Only for you Mat,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, your eyes widening at your own confession.

Mat was thankful he was behind you, because if you saw the way his gaze changed from your words he’d never live it down. You looked so perfect, spread just for him. His jersey. His number. And in his own fantasy: his girl. He snapped himself back into reality, sliding into your pussy that was practically dripping in anticipation.

“Faster, fuck Mat please,” You whimpered out, trying to move yourself to get Mat to pick up the pace. He chuckled darkly, hips snapping back and forth until the only sound in the room was the string of curses leaving your mouth, “I’m close-”

Mat flipped you over before you could finish, his hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, “Tell me this pussy is mine.”

“Fuck I’m yours Mat,” You breath out, locking your eyes with his while it felt like time froze around you, “I’m yours.”

“Look at me when you cum baby,” Mat urges, his hand still gripping your chin. He picked up his place, making use of his other hand around your clit, “C’mon princess just for me.”

Your pussy fluttered around him, Mat letting out a groan while he tried to hold onto this moment for just a bit longer. He looked down at you, catching your breath from your own high. You hand snuck down to his cock, pumping it slowly, “Cum on me.”

Mat nods, letting you work on his dick with your hands while he nibbled at your neck. He was going to mark you up, make you remember who you belonged to because he so desperately wanted it to be him. He spilled onto your pussy, head pressed into your neck while he came down from his own high. You both laid there for a moment, your hand gently stroking Mat’s back while you both took a moment to think about what just happened. Mat was possessive in a way he’d never been before, and you ate it up without a second thought - that had to mean something right?

“I need to get back to my room,” you whisper, afraid to break the comfortable silence.

“I know,” Mat nods, finally picking his head up, “Keep the jersey, you might need it one day.”

“Your stupidity is honestly astounding,” You joke, brushing his hair out of his face while Mat’s face turned into a pout.

“Can I take you on a date?” Mat breathes out, hoping he wasn’t reading this the wrong way, “No games, no funny business, let me take you out.”

Say no. Say no and never call him again.

“One date,” You agree against your better judgement, pushing Mat away and looking around the room to find your sweats that you snuck into his room in, “Better make it a good one.”

Mat smiles, teeth on full display while he watched you slide your pants back on, “I’m the best at everything Y/N don’t forget that.”

“Goodnight Barz,” You tease, giving him one more look before you left his room.

The elevator ride down was quiet, most of the hotel’s occupants already asleep or still out partying the weekend away. For your sake, you hoped Chris would be fast asleep like the grandpa he was. You rushed down the hallway, Mat’s jersey still hanging loosely off your frame while you looked in your hand for your room key. Your search was stopped by a throat clearing behind you. You jump, turning around to see Chris’s eyes boring into you.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

#My writing #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine

[spideyanakin]

In My Life

Tom Holland x Reader

Part 2

Based on In My Life By The Beatles

Synopsis; Nikki doesn’t approve of you and Tom

A/n; I don’t see Nikki doing that at all but for the sake of this fan fiction 💀

Requested by; Anonymous // Hey! Please do a Tom Holland imagine where the reader meets Tom’s family for the first time. Everyone seems to be welcoming but at the end of the evening, when the reader and Tom are doing the dishes, Nikki pulls the reader to the side and blackmails the reader saying that she has to get Tom to break up with her. She does so out of fear and they break up. A few days later Tom finds out about what Nikki did and he immediately tries to get the reader back and it’s all fluffy and cute?

🧚🏻‍♀️Masterlist🧚🏻‍♀️

Saying that Tom had been busy with his script was an understatement. He had worked on it for so long now he was longing to finish it. But the amount of work that was added on set placed even more pressure on his shoulders.

So when Tom first met you he wasn't the friendliest. But little by little as he walked every day on the set of Uncharted, he slowly fell for you. He fell for your smile, your eyes, and just the daily brightness you would bring to set with you.

Berlin was certainly a place Tom would remember.

It was the city he'd met you. The city that made him fall for you. And the city where he felt all his stress come off his shoulders.

And months later he was back to London, and back with you.

He'd come to Berlin stressed out of his mind and came back relaxed holding your hand like it had been missing from his.

After five months of relationship, Tom was ready to introduce you to his parents. You'd had already met his brothers, all of them being as friendly and nice as the other. But his parents were a whole other story.

Tom was way too excited, and you had to admit you were a little stressed. No matter what Tom said meeting his parents was a huge step. One that you were a little scared to take.

You walked into the house both his parents and brothers being more then welcoming.

"Mom, dad this is Y/n" He introduced you like the most precious gem in the world. You smiled brightly as Nikki put on a fake smile.

You see she was fine with her son being an actor. She knew him and raised him. She knew he would never let his work get in the way of his personal life.

She clearly knew that if he had a role where he had to make out with another girl, he wouldn't let that get in the way if he had girlfriend. She knew his work and how professional he made sure everything was.

But with you it was different. She didn't know you and she especially didn't know if you would break her son's heart running off with another actors after a heated scene on set.

During dinner, she tried to make it look as everything was ok when inside she was boiling up.

"So... Y/n? What's your next big role?" She questioned as she took a bite of her food.

"Well it's pretty much a secret but I got cast as Satine in the new Obi-Wan series. As a Star Wars fan Im pretty excited." You smiled brightly as you answered her question. "Im really proud of that role." You nodded the smile never leaving.

"No way," Harry exclaimed as excited as you were. "Why didn't you tell us!?"

"I just got the call." You replied as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"That's insane."

"Im sorry who's Satine?" Nikkie asked not following the Star Wars franchise at all.

"Duchess Satine. Obi Wan's love interest. But they can never truly be together because he's a Jedi and she's a Duchess." Sam explained and Nikki's blood boiled as she heard you were going to have to kiss another man. Potential competition for Tom.

"Oh. And who plays this Obi-Wan?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well I know they're taking Ewan McGregor, but if they cast you as young Satine did they cast a young Obi-Wan?" Harry asked you.

"No, they're keeping Ewan just using some special effects to make him look a little younger. But I mean he weirdly hasn't aged at all." You chuckled. "I met him during my last few auditions and it was insane. You feel like he just finished shooting Revenge of The Sith." You chuckled.

"Oh my God are you going to meet Hayden?" Harry asked getting way too excited.

"That's a secret." You winked. "You'll just have to watch the show." You shrugged.

"Ewan as in, the actor who played your father in the impossible?" Nikki asked Tom.

"Yep! So glad she got the role, I mean I love Ewan he's so nice." Tom gave a bright smile.

"Well... Nice." Nikki added even more of a fake smile. She clearly knew Ewan's charms and wondered if you would possibly break Tom's heart and run away with him breaking Tom into a million pieces.

I mean actresses were always the same right? One runs off with the director, while the other with her love interest.

At least that's what Nikki always heard, and she wasn't going to have her son date an actress.

The rest of the dinner went well. You had the chance to have a Star Wars debate with Harry and Sam but you were far from knowing your fate when the dishes had to be made.

You smiled at Tom, confidence rising as you thought you'd made a good impression on the whole family, but when you were met with an angry Nikki on your way back from the bathroom, your new-found confidence fell.

"I don't want you to see my son anymore." She deadpanned.

"Excuse me?" You let out an awkward chuckle not quite understanding what she meant.

"I want you to break up with my son." She said again her tone getting even more serious.

"I- But- I don't want to. I actually really like him-" You said a little awkwardly.

"Well then break up with him. He deserves better than an actress who runs away with each other actor she gets the chance to kiss."

"Im sorry?" Your eyes widen at her comment.

"You heard me." She folded her arms. "You leave my son or I will make sure they take someone else to play Satine. All I have to do is make a few calls. If I recall I still have Ewan's phone number. I can ruin your career in one click." She replied in a tone that left you speechless. You were about to tear up when you picked up the last of your courage.

"This won't ruin my career." You replied finding all your cold blood.

"Yes but spreading a rumor would..."

You stayed speechless for a little while, the both of you unaware that Harry had watched the scene from the start with a dropped jaw.

"Alright." You looked down trying not to cry. "But just know that I love your son very much and you're making a big mistake for his happiness." and without another word, you left towards the kitchen trying to find a way to leave this place.

"You ok love?" Tom asked as he placed an arm around your waist. You gave him a quick nod and looked back to see Nikki shooting daggers at you behind Tom's back.

Your phone rang in your pocket as your best friend called.

"Do you mind, it's Bella?" You looked at it and it back to Tom.

"Not at all. Go." He smiled and kissed your forehead.

The call had nothing to do with what you were about to say you felt like you couldn't stay much longer after the comments Nikki had made.

"Im going to go." You gave Tom a tight smile. "She says there's a problem with her dog and she needs me." You sighed knowing very well Tom would buy it. She knew your best friend aka roommate's Doberman was hard on everyone and sometimes it would take two people to help wit hit. "It's kind of an emergency." You said.

"Alright, well let me drive you home." He said.

"Oh no please stay with your family." You smiled. "It's late and you're tired. I'll call an uber."

"Alright." It was the last thing Tom wanted to do but for some reason, he felt like you needed some space. He pushed it on the fact that you'd just met his parents.

"I'll see you." You smiled as you pressed a quick kiss to his lips and moved towards the door no one to stop you from leaving this place. Harry looked at you leave, a frown painting his face.

You started walking towards your house, which was about an hour's walk from here. You didn't know what to do from the shock of the conversation. Your mind felt blank. You took one step after the other until you arrived at a bridge.

You watched the water for a few minutes before digging into your pocket to grab your phone.

"Hey." Bella's voice cheered over the phone.

"Bella... Something happened... Tom's mom... doesn't want me to see him again."

"What?" You heard a gasp and then a blank silence from the other hand of the phone. You stared at the water for a few seconds.

"Can you come pick me up?"

~

Before you knew it you were eating a pot of ice cream in front of Lord of The Rings cuddling your friend's Doberman.

"You ok?"

She asked sitting next to you placing a cup of hot chocolate in front of you.

"You know what always bothered me?" You questioned as you placed another spoon full of ice cream in your mouth.

"What?"

"That Gandalf didn't understand the Mellon door thing." You pointed towards the tv where that scene was happening.

Your friend looked from the tv and back to you.

"Y/n..."

You stared at the tv for a while before starting to tear up.

"Of course im not ok. My boyfriend's mom wants me to break up with him." You sobbed and turned your attention back to your friend. "I thought I made a good impression but then she goes on and says that actors are cheaters." You cried onto her shoulders.

"Can't you just tell him?" She asked as she lowered the volume from your movie.

"I can't break up a family..." You sniffed.

A week later and you were dodging Tom's calls like the plague. Every message he would send you you'd respond with nothing more than a word or two saying you were busy.

Every fiber in your body wanted to stay with him, but you had to put your career first. You knew Nikki could do a lot of damage and you weren't going to let that happen.

So after a week, you thought it was time. Time to finally break it up. Break up the one relationship you were happy about in years.

"Tom?" Your heart pounded in your chest as you typed his name.

"Yes?" He replied way to quick for your liking. "Are you finally going to talk to me? 🧐"

"I think we need to break up." You replied every word feeling like weights on your fingers as you typed. Before you could even type anything your phone lit up with a call from him.

"Just please forget me." You felt the tears leave your eyes as you sent the message dodging his calls.

A flow a call and messages from him appeared on your phone but you felt too weak to reply. Instead, you simply dropped your phone on the counter and left to your room, ready for a movie marathon to take your mind off him.

"What the actual fuck." Tom groaned in frustration as he threw his phone on his couch. "What the hell did I do?" He groaned as placed his head in his hands.

Nikki watched the scene a small smirk painting her face.

"You ok honey?" She came near him rubbing circles behind his back.  

"No." He sighed tears almost spilling. "Y/n broke up with me. She's been avoiding me for a week and now she said she wanted to end things." Tom spitted out.

"Oh, im so sorry... I'm sure you'll find another girl." She gave him a soft fake sad smile as she patted his shoulder.

"Oh please stop mom. Like you aren't glad she did what you asked her after you blackmailed her." Harry deadpanned before sipping his coffee sick of what this was doing to Tom.

"Excuse me?" The woman replied as she shot daggers with her eyes towards her son.

"What? You're going to deny it now mom? I saw you talking to her, the poor girl was frightened." Harry said again dropping small bombs into the living room.

Nikki didn't say anything and glared at Harry.

"What's that now?" Tom lifted his head from his hands, quickly wiping some tears that had slipped his eyes.

"Mom blackmailed your girlfriend into dumping you." He pointed to Nikki with his cup of coffee.

"What?" Tom's eyes went wide as he looked at his mother who's face twisted.

"What? It's not like you actually loved her? She's an actress Tom!" Nikki said in defense.

"And?" Tom stood up in anger.

"And actors are cheaters, you didn't really think you'd have a life with her?" She replied.

"Yes! Yes, mom! I love her. And plus IM AN ACTOR! What does that even mean actors are cheaters? In that case, are you saying that I'm a cheater too?" Tom almost raises his voice not taking any more of this conversation.

"Tom, your different... I raised you well..."

"I'm out of here," Tom said before grabbing his phone and leaving his house in a hurry.

"Where are you going?"

"To find the girl I love." And with that, he slammed the door rushing for your house.

"You!" Nikki pointed to Harry who looked at her with a sheepish grin.

"It's his life mom." He raised his hands in defense as he walked away.

~

Tom arrived at your house in a furry. He murmured curse words on the way there, wishing he could take all his mother's words back and mend things.

He didn't wait for a green light to walk into your apartment building, knocking on your familiar door. Tom heard the Doberman's barks and footsteps quickly following.

He was met with your puffy red-eyed face. You froze as the door frame your eyes lit up in shock as you met his.

"Look Tom..." you said as you played with his ends of your hoodie.

But instead of replying Tom smashed his lips with yours never wanting to let you go. Your eyes lit up in shock but you couldn't help melt into the kiss.

"I know... I know about everything." He slightly pushing away but still holding you in his arms. "Im sorry for what she said, but know that I don't believe a single word."

You stared into his eyes before letting your tears fall, the pressure being released from your shoulders.

"I love you, Tom."

- Tag List - 

@averyfosterthoughts​ @justifymyfeelings​ @slytherinambitious​

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader fluff #The Avengers #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tom holland imagine #spider man imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spider man #spider man x you #spider man x y/n

[spiltscribbles]

My Saving Grace

Notes: This was written for my beautiful, sweetheart @tedddylupin as part of our server’s Spring Exchange <3 I’m sorry that this isn’t a surprise anymore but I love you and I’m sorry that this is late. I hope that you enjoy it! Thank you to the realist babe @omgcmere for dealing with my shit while writing this. You can join our server here » https://discord.gg/g2ZgKkJ

.-

A Reblog is worth a thousand stars.

.-

It’s a thick, sprinkling spring morning, and Henry’s standing outside the Matin Bleu like he’s done every Easter his family spent in the states. It’s a small, conspicuous bistro fashioned in the French model that lies in the northern Hamptons. Henry knows it’s every nook and crevice, knows the pastel tablecloths and porcelain china, and he noticed when they adopted new silverware two years earlier. He knows this place like the back of his hand, holds it synonymous to his grandmother’s ever-appraising gaze and Philip’s stiff upper lip and the way it sometimes felt like he was being suffocated by the formality of it all— by the unbridled expectations held for a Mountchristen heir. And God, this is pathetic, the fact that Henry can’t even step into a brunch with his family without the ominous sensation that he’s about to step into enemy territory. Like they were one of the new Kingpins ravaging the neighborhood streets, and he needed an actual superhero to come and save him.

“Fucking ridiculous,” he mutters to himself, pulling out his phone to check the time and see if Alex’s near by, admittedly not sure if he could face all their judgmental glances without some sort of backing.

“Your hair’s starting to get mussed.”

Henry starts, turns around to find Beatrice walking closer to him. She’s got on  a  sundress that makes it so flecks of green dance in her almond eyes and a truly massive hat that would make the British royals seethe  with envy. And Henry’s never been so thankful for the sight of her a day in his life.

“You’re late,” he chides softly, leans down for her to hug him   hello and slips his phone back in his trouser’s pocket, inwardly praying that Alex’s at the very least on his way.

“’S the pregnancy, it’s got me in shambles trying to figure out the time,” Beatrice sniffs, snaking her arm through his own as they stroll into the restaurant. Henry doesn’t care if he admits it, everything feels easier with his sister besides him.

“Don’t tell me that works on Louis, the poor sod.” Henry snorts, incredulous, as he pulls out her chair for her to sit in and greets his Grams and mother with perfunctory pecks on the cheek.

“Louis’s great with all of it,” Beatrice beams, hands moving to rest on her still barely-visible belly. “Even with the mommy brain.”

“You make sure he keeps that attitude up once diapers come around,” a cousin crows from further down the table.

“He’s sworn it,” Beatrice assures glowingly.

“Well Bea, where is Louis? Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got knocked up by an irreverent tosser?” Philip asks, passing the butter to Martha, who’s rolling her eyes at her husband’s crassness. Henry hopes she knows that she’s not alone on the annoyed by Philip boat.

“Nice to see you too Pip, it’s been too long.” Beatrice glares with a truly mutinous twisting of her lips.

“Well, answer, where is your husband frolicking around if not here with his family?” their grandmother— a woman who the queen of England had to work her schedule around to meet—  presses, voice drenched with disapproval.

Henry takes Bea’s smaller hand into his own and squeezes for support.

“He had to go to the office in the city to oversee a vulnerable account, Grams,” Beatrice answers with a level tone, squeezing back so hard that Henry swears she’s trying to snap his fingers right in half. “He’ll be here before the second course.” 

“Well, if the firm needed him that’s perfectly reasonable,” she clears her throat right then, eyes cutting over to Henry, and he knows exactly what’s coming next. The same old diatribe about how he’s such a failure, such a disgrace to the Mountchristen name. A family that’s been the crown jewels of each and every antiquity in every Major city in the western hemisphere for the past half century. How Philip’s the only one who’s adopted a good head on him, and how Henry should’ve gone into politics or the Marines or become some sort of hot shot investment banker who makes millions on the hour. Not just some frivolous writer, a damn journalist living in Soho like a bohemian tosser. (Her words precisely.)

Henry’s heard all of it before, breathes in to prepare for the worst of the tongue lashing. He’s only mildly surprised when it’s his mother who speaks up in her timid, unaffected tone to stop it before it begins.

“Let us just pick out our soups, shall we?”

“Ahem, yes. I’m famished,” Henry tacks on, gazing at her thankfully, watching as she runs a hand through her blonde hair— the same shade of his own.

“As long as there’s no onions, the little tyke won’t take even the smell,” Beatrice adds on with a small smile, and the moment passes. His Grams goes back to fuming about all she’s heard on the news, Philip’s gone back to tossing barbs with Beatrice, and Henry’s back to wishing he were anywhere but here before discretely checking his phone for the sixth time in as many minutes.

His stomach sinks at the realization that Alex still hasn’t called or even sent a text. 

“And what of you little brother?” Philip asks, tone vacant of any real interest. “You’ve been seeing a new bloke you wanted to introduce us to, haven’t you? Don’t tell me he’s already old news.”

Henry feels the furious flush spilling across his cheeks at the not so subtle implication that for some reason Henry goes through partners any quicker than he or Beatrice had at his age, and he really wishes he hadn’t gone through the standard Mountchristen indoctrination of not using a voice beyond a soft murmur in public because he’d really like to yell at Philip right about now. Yell at  him for being a beyond annoying, homophobic wanker right in front of everyone. Thankfully, the pure anger is belied by the sudden, and crippling familiarity of Alex’s voice cutting through all the rest. And it���s like Henry’s been filled with helium once he turns slightly and finally catches sight of Alex, his Alex. Alex in that dark suit that makes him look like a Brooks Brothers advert, and Alex who’s always the most incandescent  point in Henry’s world without even his realizing it. Even at the start of all of it— at the start of them, when they had first met and Alex was a god forsaken prat about everything— contrary to his core— And sure, Henry admits he was being intentionally pretentious and perhaps a wee bit waspish whenever Alex got on a soapbox and began  one of his diatribes about how heroes are the most incredible, selfless sort of folks in a community. And sure, wherever one of them pushed the other had to dig his heals in the sand and stay firm just to make a point, just to make the other work that much harder and notice him that more intensely. But the last year has incorporated  something totally knew— something uncharted and scary and dangerous— like at any moment they could step on a landmine— but its also been the most miraculous year of Henry’s life.

It’s been a year of sloppy snogs exchanged at midnight underneath a thousand polluted stars and amidst a symphony of honking city horns. A year of tangled limbs and sweaty sheets and laughter pouring out soft lips. A year of spilled hair on shared pillows and shirts tumbling together so many times that they just begin smelling like a cocktail of the both of them, together. And if he’s being honest, Henry doesn’t exactly know what this is, what it means. All he knows for sure is that he could spend the rest of his days merely parsing out all the varying shades of brown that dance in Alex’s molten eyes and he’d be content. And Henry frankly doesn’t care how utterly love sick that sounds.

“Alexander,” Beatrice— Henry’s saving grace— is the one to crow in greeting, excepting his hug before he takes the spare seat besides Henry.

“I’m so sorry I'm late,” he says with slightly labored breaths, as if he had run the entire way here. “The traffic coming up was all levels of awful.” In a tender sort of motion he quickly brings up Henry’s hand— the one he had interlocked with his own once being escorted to their table, and kisses it hurriedly.

Henry is blushing for an entirely different reason now.

“Never mind that Alexander,” Catherine waves off his excuse with a flick of the hand, a thin smile on her lips. Henry knows that Alex reminds her of Arthur, and Henry is both delighted by the notion and so sad that the only times he ever sees his mother with even a slight flicker of life to her vacant eyes is when she’s thinking of her husband who had died nearly a decade ago now. But that’s hypocritical, and Henry knows it. After all, it’s not like he’s ever going to be over that particular wound anytime soon.

“You missed the appetizer,” Philip tells him briskly.

“Perfect, I’m trying to keep this trim figure,” Alex winks and the rest of the table fall into quiet chuckles.

Henry beams, his  chest threatening to burst at the seams. THat’s his boyfriend. An insanely charming, insanely beautiful, supernova. 

Henry clamps his hand on Alex’s thigh out of view from everyone  else and they share a smile before being pulled back into conversation with Beatrice about her Mommy and Me class, and it’s all splendid.

.-

“They liked me,” Alex preens a few hours later, once everyone disperses and goes back home. The sun’s beginning to dip into the horizon and clouds are beginning to gather overhead as they walk the New York City streets, headed to Henry’s loft with interlocked hands.

“They would’ve liked you more if you weren’t so late,” Henry needles just to make a point, not actually mad. It’s kind of a set in stone characteristic of his. Alex is always, without falter, late to just about any function. It use to crease Henry— back before when they were just bickering acquaintances with a rather brutal amount of unresolved sexual tension, but now it’s kinda endearing.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, face going a bit pale. “Luna really needed Nora and I to stay longer at the lab. That sample he collected at the bank robbery last week after The Ranker’s attack  started multiplying, like it’s a living blog thing.”

“So you’re growing some homemade mutants,” Henry snorts, knocking their shoulders together. 

“I’d really like to say that smug isn’t a hot color on you, but your ass seems to make everything work,” Alex sighs, long suffering, as he gives Henry an appreciative once over— special focus paid to his aforementioned ass.

“And I’d like to say that my boyfriend isn’t a pervert, but alas,” Henry laughs ebulliently  when Alex hip checks him, almost not noticing the buzz to his phone. It’s a message from Pez, a tip on none other than  The Ranker’s whereabouts.

“What’s up Henryson, your face is getting all weird. And not even the hot way like it does when I wear my old lacrosse uniform for sexy times.”

“I’ve got to go,” Henry says, by rote as he tries to flag down a taxi with a emphatic hand.

“I knew it, you have a secret boyfriend,” Alex snorts.

“You say that as if I could handle even one of you,” Henry counters, relieved once a cab slows down, catching sight of him.

“So the sudden franticness?”

“The Ranker, he’s over at time square making some sorta announcement.” Henry explains, swoops forwards to kiss him goodbye before swinging open the cab’s door and slamming it shut. “June would have a conniption if I didn’t get some live video!”

Alex’s expression completely drops now, sticking his head through the window and preventing the driver from speeding away as Henry would prefer. 

“Lucky for you that the dude you’re nailing is the editors brother, she’ll give you a break.”

Henry tries his hardest not to roll his eyes at him, wondering if it’ll always be a point of contention that Henry’s work practically demands that he’s at the epicenter of these showdowns between these superheroes and their villainous counterparts.

“Love, you know as well as I that  if the Harold gets a story published before us one more time your sister will have an early death from a certified aneurism.”

“You folks across the pond really like your hyperboles.”

“And you Americans really like making your boyfriends late for potentially groundbreaking news.”

Alex furrows his brows, that familiar dent of worry between them when he frowns at henry. “Promise to be safe.”

“Always,” Henry kisses the tip of his nose before unceremonially pushing him out and directing the driver to take him as close to the action as he possibly can.

~*~

Alex can’t help but watch Henry becoming a dot into the distance, silently willing him not to be dumb and not getting himself into danger. Though he’s pulled out of it by Nora and June’s frantic texting in their group chat, so with a heavy, put upon  exhale he dashes behind the dumpsters across the way and changes into the costume he always keeps in his messenger bag. Taking him five seconds to a normal person’s ten minutes.

“Have you not been paying attention, like at all!” Nora’s voice is the first to crackle through the line of his built in bluetooth, sounding beyond bothered.

“I was with Henry,” Alex says in defense, the roads become nothing more than a dust in his wake as he runs faster than what could have ever been feasible before. “June, don’t ya have any control on which reporter takes which case? Like why can’t he ever just like write something on an old lady’s kitten being rescued by a fireman.”

“Sorry baby brother, but he wouldn’t have it even if I tried, besides he and Pez are like the best duo that the Sentinel’s seen in years.” June says apologetically, and Alex can only roll his eyes. He knows that Henry is too fucking hard headed for his own good, but still, he’d rather if his completely human, and utterly breakable boyfriend weren’t trying to get himself killed every time one of these hotshot villains want to have a temper tantrum.

“Whatever, just give me the coordinates, yeah?” 

.-

It’s only been like five minutes since The Ranker began his weird tirade, but everything’s already  been swallowed into complete chaos, with people screaming, and at least six car accidents, and all topped off by the ranker’s nauseating cackles pounding through the air.

Alex gives a quick once over, sees that Henry still hasn’t made it here yet, and thanks the lord for small blessings. He’s determined to finish this quickly and with no fanfare.

“The City is infested New Yorkers! And I’m here to clean it from the vermin!” The Ranker is in the midst of shouting, but Alex can’t tell from where.

“Three buildings down from Radio City,” Nora tells him. Alex is always sorta spooked on how she could practically read his mind like that, but doesn’t have time to think on it, to busy scaling the building in question and coming face to face with The Ranker— well as much as they could be considering the whole mask ordeal.

“Ranker!” He exclaims once the man in question finally turns around, ugly smirk on his lips.

“Aw, and the greatest vermin of them all,” he says through a small mike that distorts his voice into something low and scratchy, like gravel that Alex would really like to step all over. 

“Shucks, don’t go and start complimenting me,” Alex harrumphs, swinging an uppercut to his lower jaw and dodging the kick he aims in turn. “Would you just leave us alone already!”

“Just as soon as you flee this city! And stop getting in everyone’s way!”

“Way to do what exactly?” Alex ducks when he tries to punch the side of his head, parrying with a swift kick to his ankles, but the bastard is too quick.

“This city doesn’t need you Torpedo! It doesn’t want you!” He bellows.

“Is that why I didn’t get the customary Easter fruit basket?” Alex asks, faux owlish, as he rams into him. The Ranker gathers his footing and jumps off the building. It’s of course too good to be true, and he only has to press a button midway down to land smoothly with boots that have some sort of rocket contraption built into them.

“Oh damn you.”

“Yo Alejandro!  This isn’t being filmed for VH1 so can you just snip out those one liners and just tie him up for the cops or something!” Nora says, exasperation tinged with actual worry.

“I’m trying, but he’s like in new form since last time he showed his face!” Alex defends, jumping from ledge to ledge before landing only feet behind him. At least seven cop cars have already piled up around them, and a ridiculous amount of people staying to watch. God damn it, have they ever heard of self preservation! Alex would like to call them all idiots, but then spots a glint of gold besides an actually decent cop, Amy— and he relents that they might not be actual idiots. To be frank,  Henry’s the most brilliant person he’s ever known, Even if he acts like a doofus.

“Back away!” Alex yells to the throng of onlookers and reporters and officers. “He’s armed!”

“Oy, why we aught to trust you speedster!” A nondescript man shouts from the crowd.

“Maybe because I’m the only person who’s preventing him from squishing you guys like bugs!” Alex replies, screaming now. He knows he shouldn’t let petulant folks like that get in his head, but god damn it, even while rescuing them, they can be so damn ungrateful.

“Alex from behind you!” Nora yells through the speaker, and Alex manages to duck in time when the Ranker throws a particularly hefty slab of stone his way.

“Fucking hell.”

“Are we just going to be running in circles? Or are you going to just give up before I actually have to hurt you,” Alex yells, feet planted on the ground and glaring daggers his way. 

“It’s you who will be hurt you little pest,” The Ranker cackles, brings up his fist and begins pressing a button on his black glove that shoots out a blast of heat, leaving nothing but ruin init’s wake as he begins shooting indiscriminately. First at Alex, (which he obviously dodges with ease),  and then at the building behind him, and two more at the crowds who are competent enough to divide as soon as they see it pointed towards them. 

All of them besides one person. The aforementioned glint of golden that’s too busy scribbling notes into his pad to look up, and Alex’s heart literally lodges into his throat. Like an echo reverberating out a cave he can hear Pez from over head— where he usually stands atop a balcony to get the best photos— screaming Henry’s name, and he can hear Nora and June’s dissonant shouts for him to move before The Ranker strikes again, but Alex doesn’t understand what’s going on, it’s all thanks to instinct when he catapults himself forwards to push Henry out of the line of fire— both of them dodging the blaze ever so narrowly— Alex’s costume searing with smoke— and landing in a pile of rocks from a construction scene happening across the street. 

“Ouch,” Henry mutters, rubbing the side of his head before crouching upwards.

“Are you a fucking idiot!” Alex screams, pops up defensively to guard against anything else that the Ranker decides to aim his way. Alex isn’t sure whether he’s thankful or terrified that he’s no where in sight. 

“Keep me posted if you guys track him anywhere else,” he mutters to June and Nora, breaths finally beginning to even out, despite the fact that he keeps on picturing himself moving only a moment too late and  Henry suddenly gone— like a flash.

“You got it little brother.”

“Stand ready,” Nora warns.

“I suppose I should thank you for the rescue, though I must admit that the unnecessary insult does knock you down a few points.”

Alex can’t help the small, endeared grin that cracks his face  in half, but he tries his damndest to hide it from Henry’s ever calculating gaze— His mind is made for journalism, always working to figure out a situation— measuring the facts, and interconnecting the clues for one lasting crescendo of brilliance that figures out what hasn’t been spoken out loud. Alex is mildly terrified that he’d look into  his ocean eyes and be caught out.

“What? You get rescued a lot? Have a running tally going on which Superhero deserves the crown of America’s darling?”

Alex finally turns around to him, confident in his mask having stayed in place and tempering his expression enough so that it gives off a blasé indifference— and for the record, it’s fucking difficult when it’s trained on the dude he’s in love with.

“You folks must actually  be some sort of extra terrestrial human/alien hybrid if you truly don’t know that Judie Garland could never be knocked off her perch as America’s sweetheart,” Henry sniffs loftily, goes back to his notepad, because of course he’d rather make sure his notes were all still pristine over checking if he has something as serious as a damn concussion.

“Hah, that accent isn’t exactly yankee doodle sweetheart,” Alex says with a good amount of derision, head cocked. But oh, Jesus fuck. His stomach drops out the moment Henry’s eyes go sharp and his features turn pensive when he turns to look straight at him. Alex is such a fucking idiot, using one of his primary pet names for Henry so carelessly, so thoughtlessly. 

Alex is sure that he just let a major hint of his identity drop in front of him, but with some sort of pure luck that strikes, Pez sprints over to them, breaths heaving. 

“For God’s sake Haz I saw you almost get fucking obliterated! Do you know what that wold’ve done to my psyche!” 

Henry’s face goes tight with contrition, all his attention focussed on his best friend now, and Alex sees a blessed opportunity to run off scot free. But of course things are never that easy, and right when he pivots around to race back to June’s apartment where the girl’s are surely waiting, he hear’s Henry’s voice calling for him.

“Torpedo! A moment!” He pulls away from where he was hugging Pez, and steps closer to him, face sporting that inscrutable expression it does whenever he’s particularly serious about something— the one that never fails to get Alex all hot and bothered. 

And just shit.

“Ahem, my colleague and I are reporters for the New York Sentinel. I wanted to give you the opportunity to speak on what had just played out.”

Alex frowns, confused. No reporters make it actual practice to get any sort of information from the Superheroes, it makes much more money for them just to editorialize and demagog about them to sell issues. Obviously Alex knows that the Sentinel is different, it’s headed by his own sister for fuck’s sake, and he knows that Henry is good and true. But still, it’s a surprising request.

“You could obviously stay silent and have the people equate you to that monster,” Henry shrugs— as if it couldn’t make a difference in his world. And God is he sexy all in his element like this.

“No, ah. I guess I just want  civilians to stay vigilant, the Ranker seems to be only growing in strength and resilience. I have no clue what he’s going to do next.” Alex tries to speak in his most presidential like tone, something he’s been practicing since he were a kid considering the whole his Ma’s the mayor of one of the largest cities on the planet thing.

“And I could quote you on that?” Henry asks, hand moving frantically across the page.

“Yeah of course.”

“Spoken like a true hero,” Pez tells him magnanimously and this is starting to feel real slimy— like he’s lying to them outright.

“I should go, begin mapping out what’s going on.”

“Of course,” Henry nods, straightens to his full six foot one stature. “But if you ever need help trying to predict his next move, we’re on call.” He hands Alex his business card and it takes everything Alex has within him not to burst out in laughter— as if he hasn’t had the digits memorized for years at this point.

“Will do,” he winks, but the Superman aesthetic probably crumbles when Alex accidentally trips over one of the rocks that was being thrown around before he has to gather himself and run off into the distance.

.-

In modest terms, the story published on the latest stand off between Torpedo and the Ranker completely blows up. It’s the most viral story that the Sentinel— or any New York based paper— has seen in nearly half a year. Pez chucks it up to the quote they got from the Torpedo himself, but Nora argues it’s because they plastered Henry’s face right on the byline and Alex thinks they’re both right. 

In truth, Henry doesn’t really bother figuring out why this particular story spreads like wildfire, is only proud of it because of how the article makes it so June’s face goes relieved for the first time in too long— Admittedly, Henry is also elated the morning it was released when he had gotten an actual phone call from his Grams, congratulating him for finally proving his Mountchristen lineage, soon followed up by a email from Philip that actually says he had done well. And Henry knows that neither of them should have an effect on him— especially such an impactful one— but Henry would be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t feel like he was riding on cloud nine that entire week.

But It’s begun to die down now, and Henry’s still  trying to figure out what exactly are the Ranker’s intentions for New York, and the world at large. All his subsequent attacks have been  petty crimes in comparison to trying to start an uprising. They were attempts on stealing pieces from the Met or trying to break free some inmates in one of the more unsavory prison complexes. Each one was executed by one of his henchmen, and easily thwarted by the Torpedo. It just doesn’t make sense.

Speaking of which, the aforementioned hero hasn’t once called Henry or left him any other sort of message about the offered help,  obviously wanting to go at this solo. And that’s perfectly fine, but just annoying. Henry knows it in his bones that if they just exchange information they could plot out exactly what would happen next. But whatever, Henry has more pressing issues to worry about. Namely, his and Alex first anniversary. 

Henry goes back to rearranging the breakfast tray— all of Alexander’s favorites delivered from their usual cafe a few blocks down. The both of them knowing full and well that Henry can’t cook for shit. He did however spend half the night baking and icing a small cake that’s got piped on the date of their first night out as an official couple, and Henry picked out the red and white roses— sown together by the stem and placed in a thin vase right in the center— knowing that it symbolized unity, and mutual love. If nothing else, Henry knows that he and Alex are partners through everything, honest to the core to one another and always there for the other when he needs it most.

The most important part of Henry’s world will always be Alexander, and that’s not in doubt.

Gingerly, Henry picks up the surprise, sock clad feet toeing softly into Alex’s bedroom where he’s still knocked out. He had come home from Luna’s lab so fucking late. Henry hates how hard he works for him, tells Alex as much with low complaints mouthed against his skin and caressing hands pulling him closer, and closer still every time he comes home looking a little worse for wear.

And yeah, Henry knows that they’re trying to figure out how these heroes develop their powers, knows that they hope to create immunities against it to prevent from any possible, maniacal villains. But Henry would rather it that his boyfriend didn’t look so god damn worn out near constantly. 

In a voice still quiet and raspy enough for morning, Henry tells him, “Happy one year love.” Peppering small kisses against the width of Alex’s shoulders, and slowly tracks down the dips of his spine— brushing reverently against the small consolations of freckles that dance on Alex’s hip.

Slow and groggy, Alex flips around so that they’re face to face, a hand locked in Henry’s hair and their lips barely meeting for a kiss. 

“You taste like coffee,” Alex smiles, kissing Henry that much deeper. 

“Aw, the sweet nothings you wax about me,” Henry sighs, faux aggrieved as he grabs the latte in question, making Alex sit up, the blanket pooling around their hips and their ankles intwining.

“Man if I could start everyday with a shirtless you and cup of Starbucks I swear to God I would be set  for the rest of  my life.”

“Should I be concerned that I don’t know which of those you would rather have?” Henry goads, nosing against the crook of his neck.

“Don’t be dumb,” Alex snorts, setting down the drink and curving against Henry with a tender sort of care. Henry realizes the reason for the caution when he looks down and sees how his previously concealed side is covered in bruises, ugly splatters of blue and purple that’ll fade to green and yellows in only a few short days.

“Holy shit,” Henry scrambles off the bed, nearly toppling over the breakfast he had set up. But he doesn’t care— He can’t care, not with Alex just lying there, hurt and broken and Henry can’t do a thing about it.

“What the fuck happened!”

Alex winces, like he was somehow fucking embarrassed. And no, just no. Alex can not be embarrassed over this! Okay sure, there are some funny anecdotes of him being clumsy at the lab, or Nora accidentally tackling him a little too hard against the wall. Little spoofs that left small injuries and maybe a scratch or two, but not this. Never to this level. And Henry has no idea how to comprehend it. It’s like he’s drowning, lost at sea trying to figure out how to help him.

“’S nothing,” Alex tries for broke with a small shrug of the shoulder, but even that makes it so he grouses with pain.

“Alexander what happened!” Henry repeats in a voice like a whip, the same one he’s used with heads of states about wars that they’re still involved in, or police chiefs about unjustifiable shootings executed by their officers onto innocent youths. 

“It was a couple of punks when I was walking home last night,” Alex finally admits, worrying on his inner cheek. 

“What did they want!” Henry bellows. “Did you make a police report! Did you get a decent look of them? Or—“

“Baby, it’s fine,” Alex soothes, climbing out the bed so that he could stand in front of Henry, rubbing comforting hands up and down his arms. “It was not a big deal, they got my wallet, but we both know I’m broke as hell.”

“Why are you being so glib about this!” Henry says in a voice that shakes. “Is this why you came home so late last night. Did they threaten you? Was Nora there? Is she alright?”

“Everyone’s fine sweetheart, Nora wasn’t there and they didn’t threaten me. Just wanted some cash.” Alex moves to kiss across Henry’s jawline, each  corner of his mouth too, while he slings his arms around Henry’s narrow waste. 

“’S because of this bullshit zero sum game the Ranker has got going on with that Torpedo prat,” Henry hisses, feeling like a powder keg ready to blow. Alex stiffens slightly beneath him and he knows he’s thinking the same thing. 

“It was just some stupid pricks Henry,” Alex says quietly, there foreheads pressed against each other. “Now please, don’t let this ruin our day. I know your love sick, pisces ass has got a whole romantic production planned out, and I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Breathing in deep, Henry nods, just slightly, agrees to go on with their anniversary plans.

“You really must think highly of yourself if you think I’ve spent that much effort on you,” he jokes, and Alex throws back his head in lovely peals of laughter and it’s all alright. For now. It’s all alright for now. 

Henry lets Alex drag him back in bed, lets him map out Henry’s body with his lips and hands and arches up towards him wantonly when Alex laps his tongue around his dick— a promise of so much more. 

Henry lets Alex wash over him, lets him think that this conversation has ended, lets him not worry about how Henry’ll take this in his own hands.

~*~

“Numbers on Henry suspecting that you spend your night masquerading as New York’s Walmart version of Batman?” Nora asks a few  days after Alex and Henrys anniversary while they write down the new growths showing on the mole collected from one of the Ranker’s more recent city attacks— an ugly black blob that only seems to be growing larger day by day.

“Honestly? I dunno. He seemed to buy the excuse that it was a mugging.” 

“But?” June presses, staying a good distance away from them with her lunch, all of them agreeing that they needed to regroup as soon as possible after the latest  incident of the Ranker attacking another jewelry shop on fifth avenue only last night.

“But, I just feel guilty about it. About the lying I mean. Henry and I don’t lie to each other, we’re like the exact opposite! We’re painfully honest.”

“Honest about everything besides what matters?” Nora sniffs, poking the blob with a stick he’s almost positive is meant to be used for mixing people’s coffee and creams. 

Alex tosses her the bird for that one, more than a bit cross over the whole ordeal.

“Alex, you’re only trying to protect him,” she says, dark eyes earnest with understanding. “I know that this is a sucky situation but would you rather risking one of these crazy villains piecing together that he’s like the one person you’d give up the world to save.”

Alex’s cheeks flush, lips pursed as he glances over to June who’s being uncharacteristically quiet.

“You think otherwise?” He asks, waiting for her to meet his gaze from where it’s concentrated on fiddling with her salad instead.

“Am I allowed to have an other opinion?” She asks, lips pinched.

“Course you are Bug, you know that.”

“Well then I think you should just tell him.” She charges, sudden passion vibrating in her tone.

“Did not see that one coming,” Nora intones as an aside.

“Alex, you saw how Mom trying to protect Dad blew up in their faces. She didn’t talk about any sorta legislation or anything she was trying to get past so that he would never be questioned about staying impartial as a congressman, and it only paved the way to their divorce.”

Alex feels like a rush of vertigo has just hit him, like he’s about to be sick.

“This’s different,” he contends, admittedly very weakly— But it is! This is Henry’s actual life at hand! Not the reputation he might garner from a bunch of smug politicians.

June frowns fully now, looking like she’s trying to throw Alex a lifesaver that just keeps slipping out his hands.

“No Alex, no it’s really not.”

The air around them goes taught, and Alex feels very queasy with the revelation that her words ring true.

“Can we put a pin on this you guys,” Nora asks, frantic. “Our lovely friends just blew up a couple of empty vehicles down in Brooklyn and it’s kind of a shitty situation.”

“Right,” Alex dashes to change into his distinctive red suit, tells the girls to stay on call for him.

“Stay safe,” June pleas, like she always does.

“Of course,” Alex promises, like he always does.

And the remaining discomfort from their argument dissipates because of course it does.

~*~

Henry admits that this is perhaps the dumbest, most idiotic, incredibly thoughtless plan that he has ever come up with, and that’s precisely why he hasn’t told anyone of his intentions. Not June, certainly not Pez, and God forbid Alex ever finds out. But the thing is that if this works, Henry could help put an end to this chaos for good, and maybe that’s worth the risk?

 Well at the very least, Henry hopes it’s worth  it as he swallows down hard and steps on a ledge, a perfect position to witness the current battle playing out in the Williamsburg streets. The Ranker— even more humanoid looking from the last time Henry’s seen him— a sort of slimy sheen shining against his black suit while  he’s practically roaring as he thrashes around, trying to hit a beam of light that Henry knows is the Torpedo, moving so quickly that the normal human eye can’t even focus on him before he makes a hundred more attacks. But like every time before, the Ranker seems to get a signal of whatever he’s been trying to do has been complete, and he ends it.

The Ranker  shoves hard enough and fast enough at the Torpedo  That he hits a building so hard that it begins to shake, and escapes as quickly as a blink of an eye.

Henry sees his chance, and he jumps for it— quite literally.

“Oy, Torpedo!” He shouts, knowing that with his superhuman abilities he’ll be able to hear Henry through the turmoil. And as expected, he stands up— shaking off the Ranker’s latest attack— and looks up towards where Henry had called him from— the top of a five story building.

“Here goes nothing,” Henry mutters to himself, eyes clenched shut a he sucks in deep and jumps— feeling the air whip against him with a vicious sort of vindictiveness— like wind spirits were real and they were laughing at how fucking stupid Henry is for playing with fate like this. And all Henry could do is hope that his Grams puts up a nice memorial bench for him once he becomes a splatter on the pavement.

But then— in an instant— Henry feels a body colliding into his own, and the breath being knocked out of him, before the pair of them stop in the middle of an alleyway, and it’s all Henry could do not to lock his knees and puke all over the crisp suit of the Torpedo.

“Mother of Christ it worked,” henry pants in wonderment of himself, one hand slamming against the wall directly behind him, while the other arm is slung around his stomach.

“You fucking maniac!” Is the first thing Henry hears from the Torpedo once they’re on safe ground— though he still looks like he’s swimming in open air if anyone were to ask Henry.

“It— Ahem, it was the only sure way to get your attention,” he defends, admittedly pretty weak but whatever.

“God Henry! Can’t you be like a normal reporter and ask to become a cable talking head!” The torpedo bellows, but Henry is gleeful.

“You remember who I am?”

The Torpedo goes still— stuttering on whatever he was about to say next, as if Henry had caught him in some sorta filthy lie.

He glares with a harrumph. “Course I do, you’re the idiot from before who almost died because he’s stupidly inattentive towards himself. I’m starting to think that’s a trend with you.”

Henry twists up his lips, unamused but reasoning that being cross won’t help him if he’s trying to work with this prick.

“I'm also the guy who gave you my number so we could sort out this Ranker business once and for all.”

The Torpedo rolls his eyes at him, weight slung to his left hip and arms crossed incredulously against his chest. It’s such a painfully Alex move that Henry starts to feel reinvigorated, reminded of why he’s doing this in the first place.

“Listen, I get that guys who look like you probably aren’t that accustomed to what a blow off is—“

“I’m not trying to seduce you asshole,” Henry spits, he admits it might come off a bit menacing but the head on this guy, Jesus fucking Christ. “I’m happily in a relationship.”

The Torpedo looks strangely pleased with this news, but Henry doesn’t spare anytime trying to figure out what that might mean. Working with him is going to be fucking exhausting.

“Alright goldilocks, then why the hell did you want my attention so damn badly?”

“Oh fuck, do you just not listen! For precisely the reason I had told you! I want to put the Ranker away, for good.”

The Torpedo’s mouth hardens into a straight line, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“’S too dangerous for just a normal human.” He says, and Henry’s just not going to stand for it, a fire like rage licking up his insides.

“I think I can decide determine that for myself.” He says, mulish.

“I thought we’ve come to the consensus that you shouldn’t be trusted for your own well being?” He needles.

Henry’s over the small talk.

“Look, my boyfriend— the man I intend to marry one day! Was roughed up by some of the Ranker’s fucking little minions, and the amount of people this must’ve happened to is probably astronomical! So you listen up, I’m not going to just stand around idly by. I know for a fact that we’ll figure out his intentions much quicker together than apart! So for the love that is holy and right will you just stop being a complete wanker and agree to work with the lowly human,” Henry says this all without barely a breath between words, not having noticed just how close he’s gotten to the Torpedo, how their eyes are boring into one another’s now with a sudden, heated intensity. 

A silence lapse between them, but Henry doesn’t stand down.

“You’re intent on this, huh?”

“To a grave degree.”

Another silence before the Torpedo just shuts his eyes, tilting his head like he can’t bother to argue anymore. 

“Fine. Let’s talk it out.”

The tension building in Henry’s chest finally deflates, replaced by a sort of remarkable brightness that makes his insides buzz with excitement.

“Wonderful! I work over at the Sentinel’s headquarters right past the Meat Packing District, on forty-second. Meet me there Wednesday night.” Henry instructs, probably a tad too enthused, but he doesn't care, he finally’s getting somewhere.

“Hold up Goldilocks, i said I’d work with you, not the whole damn paper.”

“Don’t get your pants in a twist, folks work outside the office on Wednesdays usually, and it’ll be late enough that we can take up one of the conference rooms without anyone interrupting.” 

The Torpedo smirks now, and Henry already knows what’s coming.

“You sure you’re not trying to seduce me darling?”

“Wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, I don’t really go for guys in spandex,” he retorts.

“Hey! ’S good material for the shit I have to deal with!” He defends, affronted sounding.

“I’m sure, but I’m running late for a lunch date as it is, so just bring the intel you’ve got on’m Wednesday and we’ll converse then.” Not really sure what to do, Henry awkwardly claps him on the shoulder before exiting the alleyway, an excited smile breaking his face in half as he thinks of all the change they could do now.

~*~

Strange enough, it becomes a sort of standing meeting for the next few weeks— Like Alex and Henry were adding a second date night to their schedules. Well a date night where only one of them knew the other’s identity, and where they spent the whole time perusing through stacks of files ranging from the dates and locations of the Ranker’s attacks within the past year, from any new gang activity that had sprung up afterwards. Also a date where Henry studiously sat as far away from a masked Alex as possible, and who remained stiff for the entirety of the two hours they would talk. 

They end up successfully predicting the two next places that the Ranker targets, and it’s a thrill. Alex however makes it a point that Henry isn’t allowed anywhere near the area until Alex has surely staved the Ranker away. It’s a point of contention between them, but it’s a point that Alex won’t budge on.

He knows Henry, knows how he strives for the public’s safety the same ways Alex does, but where Alex was hit by a molecular transmitter when he was only nineteen— giving him powers and abilities beyond comprehension— Henry’s only got a pen and paper as his main weapons of defense. And Alex knows this vendetta runs even deeper than that for him, knows that Arthur— Henry’s dad who played a hero in Hollywood films— was kidnapped and eventually killed by a Luthor family member, directed by Lex behind bars. 

Alex sees the glitter in Henry’s eyes, the vigor embedded in them. And it what makes him want to lock the Ranker up, more than anything else. 

“You’re intense Mountchristen,” Alex tells him on one of those Wednesday nights, can’t help but gaze at the way Henry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and how his brows begin to knit together, intent on his goal.

“Eyes to yourself Torpedo,” he retorts shortly, not bothering to even look up.

Part of Alex really appreciates how standoffish he behaves in front of dudes who are so obviously into him that aren’t Alex, but most of him hates the distance, hates the secrets that they’re both keeping from one another. It feels like the foundation between them is literally crumbling, even though they’re both doing this to ultimately protect the other.

“What a strange and convoluted circle you’ve ensnared yourself within,” Nora says on the night of the Sentinel’s first summer fundraising event, popping a bite sized snickers into her mouth as she lounges on her sectional in a little black dress that makes her look like a million bucks.

“You’re really unhelpful,” Alex informs her bluntly, adjusting is tie in the mirror after replying to Henry’s text that they’re headed down to meet him and June in five. 

“Well you know there’s only one sure fire way to escape it,” she crows, smile going snide as she stands up. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve begun drinking June’s crazy person juice,” Alex moans, really needing her to have been on his side for this. 

“You know they called Van Gogh crazy, and he was a genius who saw what others were too dumb to.”

“No Nor, they called him crazy because he ate yellow paint and cut off his ear as a gift.”

Nora cuffs him on the back of the head. “You’re being crass.”

“Ouch,” Alex squints, rubbing the tender spot. “And you’re being especially mean.”

“Only because you’re so dense sometimes,” Nora sniffs. “Now c’mon we were suppose to be there like an hour ago. What were you even doing all this time.”

Alex goes back to checking his reflection, absently gesturing towards the abrasively yellow binder on his coffee stand that he’s begun keeping here, less Henry accidentally finds it while rummaging around in Alex’s place. 

“Just going over some of the information Henry and I have been gathering, reading through it and everything.”

Nora flips it open, perusing through the papers leisurely. “And what have you guys found out in these little trysts of yours?”

“First of all, shut it,” Alex casts her a glare, just for good measure.  “And not much. There’s no real rhyme or reason to his attacks, except we did figure out that like after a month from the initial incident, there’s another one hitting the same place by some of his mysterious henchmen, like a month later— on the very dot.”

“The very dot?” Nora asks slowly, her voice adopting that tension it does when she’s piecing something together she wishes she wasn’t. Like the time she figured out the dude who owned their favorite frozen yogurt place in Brooklyn was actually the same person robbing a series of banks with his uncanny ability to literally turn into gas.

“Yeah—“ Alex turns around, rigid as he prepares for her next blow.

“Well a month ago you guys have it that The Ranker hit up Time Square, don’t you?”

And like a bucket of ice water pouring over him, Alex understands what she’s insinuating immediately.

“The sentinel!”

“June and Henry.”

Before either of them could take another breath, Alex has changed into his gear and lifts Nora up bridal style, racing to them and praying to any God who will listen that they’re not too late.

~*~

The sentinel is holding a special event to celebrate the continuous and substantial donations by the Richards family to their editorial board, with special honors given to the head of the political dynasty, Jeffery Richards.

Professionally, Henry is thankful for their money flow into the Sentinel’s tireless efforts to get meaningful and factual stories out into the public sphere. Personally? Henry thinks he’s the definition of a complete and total twat, and has wished on more than one occasion to give him a swift right hook for his backwards social views and another kick in the gut for his purely one percent focussed fiscal policies. This is why Henry is shocked to find Rafael Luna, Alex’s practical idol, exchanging seemingly pleasant small talk with him near the champaign fountain. But he supposes stranger things have happened, and decides to take a swig of his gin and tonic instead of worrying about it.

Henry must admit that there’s a certain panache— a peculiar charm—  to American parties that can’t ever be replicated in quite the same way.   The people are more boisterous than their English counterparts, more willing to mingle between groups and laugh hysterically to jokes that really don’t warrant as much. Henry thinks it’s funny, especially when he considers how much less these folks drink in comparison to the upper echelon of London society— the class of folks  Henry was born and bred to become the crown jewel of, up until his unceremonial rejection of those trite ideals. Considering where he is now— working to make an actual difference in this city, and surrounded by the most important people in his world, Henry’s thankful so much for his decision.

Speaking of which, Henry sees one of those people,  catching June’s eye from across the room, matched boredom on her face. She tips her glass his way, a small, comforting smile on her lips before mouthing a dramatic, “save me.”

Henry laughs,  finishes his glass and grabs a flute of the wine  to join her but is suddenly accosted  by a older couple made up of a woman  sporting  such large diamonds hanging  off her ears that Henry’s afraid one of them might just tear off, and a man, obviously her husband, who keeps glancing over Henry’s lips and slightly exposed collarbones in the most unsubtle way ever. Jesus fucking Christ, Henry was so close to home base.

“Elias and I saw you leaving that conversation with the Galloways and simply just had to sweep in,” the woman says in lieu of a greeting. Henry recognizes them now. Elias and Barbra Bellington, one of the Harold’s most formidable backers— He reckons he should play nice then.

“I’m flattered,” Henry says with a pleasant grin, shaking her hand and then her husband’s.

“We read that latest entry you did on that masked fellow who’s been terrorizing this city,” the husband explains.

“The Scarlet one.”

“The torpedo,”  Henry nods.

“Yes,” her husband swallows before averting his gaze from Henry’s lips yet again. “You deserve a pulitzer for  finally trying to figure out who he is. It’s been nearly half a decade with him  ravaging these streets and diverting the funds and work  from our officers.”

“A scoundrel by any other name if you ask me.”

Henry is so fucking confused how they got that from his piece.

“Erm, ahem. Thank you both for the kind words, but truly, It was more about his feud with the latest kingpin, the Ranker, than anything else.” Henry tries explaining, hates it when his work gets boiled down to a few salacious bullet points for the headlines. 

“They’re all the same if you ask me, rotten and only here to create chaos in our communities”.

Henry parts his lips to retort, most likely with a too loud  argument that she’s just flat out wrong, but then his eyes focus back on Luna, watching him part ways with Richards, and he’s always been so god damn curious for his own good.

“I’m sorry but I see a colleague of mine that I actually needed to touch base with on a upcoming story,” Henry coughs while excusing himself.  “You don’t mind if I just step away for a moment,” He’s relieved when they nod congenially and promise to find him later on in the evening 

Henry exchanges congenial nods and small grins with his colleagues as he cuts through the throng, stopping in front of Luna with less nonchalance than he would’ve liked, but whatever.

“Henry,” Luna smiles broadly, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “I was hoping to see you here.”

“I was happy to see you around,” Henry smiles in turn, wonders if it comes across as painfully awkward as he thinks it does.

“Where’s Alexander?”

“On his way with Nora, I had to stop by a bit earlier for some business with the rest of the staff,” Luna nods and they both take sips of their drinks, perhaps a bit tensely. “So, ahem. I saw you speaking with Richards?”

Luna’s brows hike up, if only slightly.

“Yeah, he’s a big investor in my lab as well as the Sentinel. Wants to help us figure out this newest wave of super mutants.”

Henry pins him with a one eyed squint, confused as all get out why Richards of all people would want to help with something so— Well so scientific.

“I know, I was surprised too,” Luna laughs, reading his expression. “But it’s true! Even had some of his men collect those mole samples I’m sure Alexander has talked your ear off of. They’re really something remarkable Henry.” He trails off into a deeper conversation on what their existence means, but Henry stops listening, the gears in his brain turning at rapid speed. And God, it’s so obvious. How did Henry not notice this before.

“I’ve— I’ve got to go.”

Luna furrows his brows. “Is everything okay?”

“I— I don’t think so,” Henry admits, racing upstairs to the offices where he’s been meeting with the Torpedo these last few weeks. He’s not really sure what he needs to do, or how he can even get the Torpedo’s attention so randomly, but he feels it in his gut that it’s urgent.

Though he’s stopped midway up the stairs, and it’s like his stomach drops out completely once he realizes by who.

“Richards—“

“Mr Mountchristen, I was hoping to get to speak with you.”

Henry feels himself beginning to quake, stepping further back, bit by bit.

“Is— Is that right,” Henry stammers out, wincing when his back hits the wall andRichards keeps on coming closer.

“You’re bright, I saw the tricks you pulled to get the Torpedo’s attention,” he nods slowly. “It was only a matter of time till you or that scarlet scoundrel pieced it together.” 

“So, I’m right. The samples you’ve been giving to Luna’s lab, they were early archetypes of the beasts you’ve been harvesting.”

“And they say blonde’s are dumb.” Richards chuckles, twining a finger in Henry’s hair, close enough for his hot breath to smack Henry in the face.

“So what? You found an alien to harvest the cells from or are they just growing off of you? And why do it? What’s the point of all this?”

“Hmm, well  seeing that you’ll be dead  soon enough,” Richard snarls, clamping a hand around Henry’s neck, and squeezing for good measure. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you how I purposefully exposed myself to the molecular explosion that ravaged the city a few  years ago. It gave me the ability to multiply at a whim, though alas not quickly enough.”

“It took a month for them to fully form,” Henry realizes, squinting when Richards squeezes harder. He claws against the hand Richard’s is using to obstruct his airway, but there’s no hope. “And what,” he wheezes out, seeing stars glitter the distance. “You wanted to create a little army to take over the city?”

“New York should be so lucky!” Richard yells, crashing Henry’s head against the wall with such force that everything begins to fade into darkness. “Ever since that damn Claremont got her hooks into it we’ve gone down the shit hole!” 

Crack.

Henry’s head cracks the wall again, and everything blurs, stars glittering in the distance.

The last thing Henry sees before completely blacking out is the windows shattering open and a dash of red.

And oh.

.-

The next time Henry comes too he’s met by florescent lighting and white sheets, can feel the cool liquid of an IV pumping into his wrist.

He can hear people calling his name, but he can’t focus on it, can’t focus on anything. All he wants is Alex, and he can’t believe the secrets he’s been keeping from Henry all this time. The secrets henry has been hiding himself.

~*~

Alex has been up a total of forty-three hours at this point, but he shrugs off any of the well meaning suggestions given by his friends or the doctors to finally shut his eyes and go to bed. He can’t. He won’t. Not until Henry wakes up permanently and he looks at Alex with his beautiful, cornflower eyes, and smiles at him with that heavenly grin, and twines their fingers into one another. Exactly how they should be. 

God, Alex can’t believe how stupid he’s been. Keeping these secrets from him, trying to protect him all this time, but it ended up pointless. Henry’s here, golden hair fanned on eggshell sheets and blue veins tracing his pale skin and looking like some sort of modern day sleeping beauty—  an etherial being— that Alex can’t dream of ever touching again.

Alex kisses Henry’s hand, swears that he’ll be honest and forthcoming just as soon as he wakes up and Alex  can look back into those bottomless, blue eyes for all the time to come.

.-

The exhaustion must’ve caught up to him, because suddenly everything goes dark and Alex’s next memory is of a gentle hand carding through his hair. He opens his eyes to find Henry peering down at him, crooked grin looking all levels of endeared.

Jesus, Alex is so lost on him.

“Morning gorgeous.” Henry says, still looking far too fragile for Alex’s liking in that hospital robe and with like half a dozen machines hooked up to him, but it doesn’t stop Alex from kissing him with all he has. 

“You fucking bastard, don’t you ever do that to me again.” Alex pleads wetly, hands cupped around Henry’s face and never wanting to let go.

“Well Alexander, if we’re being fair, I think I’ve still got a hundred other chances to unwittingly make you terrified.”

Alex frowns now, the realization slowly coming over him to what Henry’s words are alluding towards.

“You know!”

“I figured it out Torpedo,” Henry says, soft enough so that Alex has to strain to hear him.

“Bu—But when?”

“I think the between the second time Richards tried knocking me out, and you crashing through the office like some sorta renegade. Also you are not slick Alexander, the way you were checking me out during those meetings was frankly obscene.”

Alex feels his cheeks redden, disbelieving laugh punching out of him.

“I can’t help it, you’re really sexy when you’re all in your element.”

Henry smiles sweetly at him, turning his head to kiss one of Alex’s palms still clamped around his face.

“Says the literal superhero that millions of people around the world thirst over.”

Alex sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, wrestling down a grin.

“So you’re not mad that I kept this secret  from you?”

“Oh I’m furious,” Henry corrects. “But I reckon you’ve got a lifetime to explain your actions to me. And I might have been guilty of the same sort of indiscretion, if you squint.”

“Hah, just like a Brit, trying to absolve himself of the blame,” Alex snarks, kissing Henry’s tongue when he sticks it out to waggle at him. 

“Gross.”

“Think you mean sexy."

“Where’s Richards when you need him,” Henry sighs, faux put upon.

“Not funny,” Alex fumes, is only restrained from flicking him on the ear considering his current predicament.

The laugh that Henry lets out right then is something mellifluous and beautiful and what Alex could listen to on a loop for all the eons to come.

“No but truly, what happened to that prick anyhow?” 

“Tied him up with the evidence we collected, and called Officer Amy to make the arrest.” Alex explains, threading his fingers through Henry’s hair. “He’s locked up now. Probably’s gonna stay that way for a while.”

“So it worked out?”

“Henry, no situation in which you are at all injured is things working out,” Alex reproves caustically. 

Henry shakes his head at him. 

“God, such a softy Alexander.”

That time Alex does flick him on the ear and isn’t even sorry about it.

.-

Buy Me A Coffee?🥺

#RWRB #RED WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE #Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor #Alex Claremont Diaz #FIRSTPRINCE #TEDDDYLUPIN #I love you baby #SPILT INK

[jennycalendar]

2019 fic roundup

december was INSANE and i spent most of january dealing with the aftermath of Terrible Parents, but i am finally doing this! in nearly-february! good grief!

tagged by @catty-words​! always a delight, cori <3

Total 2019 Word Count: 541,906 Total 2019 Hits: 29,555 Other 2019 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 3,184; Comment threads: 787; Bookmarks: 509; Subscriptions: 223.

Total 2018 Word Count: 338,835 Total 2018 Hits: 22,374 Other 2018 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 2,192; Comment threads: 453; Bookmarks: 280; Subscriptions: 69.

links and titles to 2019 works (buckle up, folks.)

[btvs] imperfections (148,374 words) y’all know about the braveryverse already but i’ll bring up some good points: jenny and giles accidentally adopt the entire scooby gang. also faith gets some actual support and is actually eventually stable enough to date buffy. good times.

[btvs] deliberate obstruction (5,492 words) the one where jenny is petty as fuck and attempts to sabotage every single one of giles’s dates after their breakup. not her best look, but it was really fun to write jenny being Not Great. she deserves to have that option.

[btvs] arch-nemeses (2,171 words) who doesn’t love some of that good old-fashioned ripper au nonsense? particularly when it’s spike and ripper being confusing nemeses who sometimes drunkenly make out (jenny thinks this is very funny).

[btvs] sick day (3,097 words) written because someone should take care of giles, damnit! probably not jenny, tho. she’s not the best at it. lucky for her giles loves her so much.

[btvs] simpatico (10,096 words) sister fic to the grieving process! set circa btvs season six! jenny is connor’s awkward aunt! giles is a repressed disaster who’s still pining but refuses to admit it! 

[btvs] honesty’s the best policy (3,830 words) that one where giles and buffy are hit with a Truth Spell that means they say exactly what they’re thinking. is that all that bad for buffy? not too much. is it a little iffy when you’re a repressed watcher man who still haven’t told your girlfriend how much you love her? uh.

[btvs comics] i router, you giles (1,111 words) GOD this was written BEFORE i knew that giles and jenny were dating in the reboot comics and isn’t that a concept? a snarky-cute first meeting! ok not really that cute bc they just yell at each other a lot! but definitely snarky!

[btvs] transitional (3,152 words) good golly this is cute and i honestly forgot that i wrote it. which makes sense, bc there is a lot of stuff on this list. set in between season one and season two, in an attempt to bridge the giles/jenny gap between “awkwardly friendly coworkers” and “oh my god i think i like you”

[btvs] across the pond (5,323 words) FUN FACT this got nominated for a headline award and i’m SO PROUD OF THAT?! epistolary fic! giles leaves for england in s6 but without his wife! his wife is very mad and writes him VERY MANY LETTERS TO YELL AT HIM! perfect for those people who sometimes think “god, i wish jenny had been in s6 to yell at giles.” 

[btvs] very really married (66,987 words) giles and jenny got drunk-married in las vegas and are keeping the marriage going so they don’t look like terrible authority figures. giles does not want buffy to know about his fake wife. giles does not want his fake wife to know about his real slayer. giles has a lot of problems and it doesn’t help that he might be catching feelings. big mess.

[btvs] bad dreams (2,267 words) GILES/JENNY/ANYA IS BEST SHIP NEXT QUESTION

[btvs comics] an open mic enthusiast (2,250 words) yet another giles/jenny comic-reboot meet-cute written before i knew they were dating!!! this time: jenny gets to see giles playing guitar. repeatedly. because she keeps going back to watch him at the open mic.

[btvs comics] blindsided (2,024 words) my first (and definitely not last) giles/anya fic! a shorter version of a plot bunny i hope to chase down in 2020 (ahaha did i say that WHOOPS)

[btvs] uncharted (16,469 words) my jenny calendar day fic! also known as “jenny calendar has a guilt complex: a novella.” no prophecy dream outs jenny to the group -- but she tells them anyway. and blames herself. and breaks up with giles while she’s trying to Fix Things. absolute mess. (thank god there’s a happy ending, right?)

[btvs] on the mending of hearts (9,236 words) that giles/anya fic where giles shows up at anya’s failed wedding and sweeps her off her feet and they have sex in his hotel room! except uhhh there’s a lot more drama and crying and anya really just needs some cuddles, tbh.

[btvs] extracurricular activities (1,003 words) straight up this one BARELY counts as a 2019 fic. i wrote it back in 2016 and forgot about it and found it on my hard drive and wrote an ending to it. it’s tiny, but it’s cute! lots of early-relationship calendiles fluff, as is My Brand.

[btvs] cookie dough and boy talk (a remix) (3,976 words) dawn, but in the ripper au! she’s a precocious little bab and ripper babysits her and gets semi-adopted by joyce. it’s a thing.

[btvs] a history lesson (698 words) a brief ripper au interlude between jenny and dru. dru tries to point out that jenny and ripper are in love. jenny very unconvincingly denies it.

[btvs] faith, hope, and pancakes (3,236 words) ripper au, now with faith! and she gets to hang with college-age jenny! who is dating her idiot boyfriend ripper! the Most Fun of times.

[btvs] compromises (750 words) this....was supposed to be a three-sentence prompt but I Can’t Do That. giles and jenny discuss (read: jenny yells at giles about) giles attempting to attack angel on sight.

[btvs] valentine buzz (3,422 words) i wrote this in may lmao but i just REALLY WANTED to write fluffy braveryverse valentine’s day nonsense!!! lots of cuddles and kisses and softness abound in this fic.

[btvs] days in goodness spent (5,893 words) this fic's point was a little more abstract and a little less blunt than most of the rest of these, but i wanted to explore the concept of giles slowly going from idealizing jenny to genuinely loving her. i hope i did it justice.

[btvs] to have and to hold (7,861 words) giles and jenny get married in the braveryverse. that’s really all there is. also i posted this on my birthday (may 23rd) AND it is the 23rd fic on this list!!!! WILD!!!!!)

[btvs] saw her in the streetlight, making all the world bright (5,738 words) took me like a year and a half to write the first fic in the ripper au, lmao. in which jenny is a snarky eighteen-year-old, ripper is a snarky college dropout in a band, and neither of them are at ALL good at communicating. especially not ripper.

[btvs] perfect (1,465 words) ripper au: it’s revealed that jenny hasn’t had sex before. ripper handles this with his characteristic maturity and grace (just kidding lmao he FREAKS. but it’s bc he loves her.)

[btvs] respite (1,106 words) i wrote this after issue 5 of the reboot dropped bc i was very emotional about canon power couple giles and jenny. in retrospect, i gave giles’s emotional maturity WAY too much credit--esp. given what’s going on now--but it was still fun as heck to write.

[btvs] shouldn’t we be getting together (3,193 words) this fic’s existence is a combo of me reading a summer camp ya novel and liking the Aesthetic but not the Culture & me talking endlessly w/ @jackalopingintothevoid​ about ripper and jenny’s teenage dynamic. so many of these fics have her galaxy brain takes woven in and i KNOW she knows that. lov u, jack.

[btvs] fragmented (6,158 words) written because of that one time my brain was like “but what if jenny WAS haunting the school?” happy ending because it’s me and g/j deserve some kisses.

[btvs/hp crossover] buffy summers, muggle-born (22,070 words) i CAME BACK TO THIS in 2019 and wrote a few chapters and DROPPED IT LIKE A HOT POTATO. hopefully 2020 will bring me the courage to pick it up again!!!!!! who DOESN’T want a carelessly-mashed-together crossover where the scoobies and the golden trio are all going to hogwarts together for some reason????

[btvs] in bloom (8,452 words) this was SUPPOSED to be the end of the jenny-anya-tara trilogy. it was not. (more on that later.) this was also supposed to be a fic where giles and jenny get together. jenny and anya got together. writing things is wild sometimes.

[btvs] i still want to be your girl (35,165 words) straight up i am so proud of this fic! s7 au: jenny was chased out of town by angelus. giles does not know this. jenny has been working with angel in la, but left with faith to try and help defeat the first. giles is not the guy she remembers. (but jenny’s not exactly the lady giles remembers, either. so maybe things might work out.)

[btvs/leverage crossover] what’s in a name (4,421 words) sophie’s & jenny’s relationship to their names & identities always so totally fascinated me! this fic was my way of exploring that. (also i got to give giles and jenny a toddler. that was fun too.)

[btvs comics] live a little (6,700 words) i had so much fun coming up with a backstory for giles and jenny in the comics that i am kinda tempted to eventually try and do it again. this one was fun to write, tho.

[btvs] kind of like hydrogen peroxide (7,501 words) THIS was FUN. ripper au, but it explores both jenny’s longing for High School Normalcy AND ripper’s fucked-up relationship to magic. also senior prom is a thing.

[btvs] mending fences (6,093 words) sequel to the aforementioned epistolary fic! lots of first-person self-loathing from giles, but also a LOT of love for jenny and his kids. also the man really truly needs to stop repressing.

[btvs] her father’s daughter (1,982 words) 2020 will bring us another chapter of this fic i swear to GOD. literally there’s only one chapter up so i cannot even TALK about my plans for it but uhhh if you want giles and jenny and their three daughters pls feel free to go to that prologue and check it out.

[btvs] a thousand different ways we fell apart (4,888 words) the au fic to encompass all au fics! inspired by the comic reboot and me being like. christ. do they go through this ridiculous shit in EVERY universe? ....and then i wrote a fic where jenny was a space traveler looking through multiple universe to try and fix her marriage with giles. extra fun.

[btvs] no such roses (4,814 words) this one turned out a TINY bit rushed, but the concept of jenny bringing giles back from the dead is always something that i love exploring. i might come back and rewrite this, someday.

[btvs comics] no perfect choice (4,801 words) OOF. wrote this one after issue 8 dropped. a lot softer and more tender than what actually happened, tbh. maybe i will reread it again to make myself feel better about comic calendiles and their brutal split.

[btvs] family (3,545 words) wrote this one p early in the year and came up with an ending to it much later! ripper au: the story of how xander came to live with giles and leave his parents. angst-with-a-happy-ending abounds.

[btvs] a california january (2,206 words) jenny and giles attend a funeral together. that’s pretty much it. this is defs one of the best things i wrote this year, tho.

[btvs] how i survived my summer vacation (volume two) (25,027 words) swear to god this is gonna be the next thing i update. the braveryverse NEEDS to continue. it’s got married calendiles, for god’s sake.

[btvs] clear and impartial judgment (3,977 words) that fic i wrote when i got mad at a lack of resolution wrt helpless. like!!! giles drugged buffy!!! do we not get to talk about the psychological ramifications that would have on her???? (well. canon doesn’t. but i do.)

[btvs] sunshine ladies (10,188 words) THIS FIC WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN and i say that with incandescent love in my heart. i intended for the ‘verse to be giles/jenny, and then i intended it to be jenny/anya, and then i was like....jenny has two goddamn hands, and there’s foreshadowing here for endgame giles/jenny, and i wanna write some giles/anya. let’s fuckin go. (DEFINITELY writing another installment in 2020 about this iconic ot3 of mine.) 

[btvs] spirit-touched (4,769 words) the first smut i write and it’s calendiles ghost sex. i really think this is on brand for me, esp. considering that swath of asks in 2016ish where everyone wanted to know if ghosts could jack off. incredible.

[btvs] dear friend (28,865 words) this fic had such a rushed ending :( it’s a cute premise (you’ve got mail giles/jenny au!!!!!), but i lost interest halfway through, and as a writer i can rlly see that when i read it. another thing i might like to go back and rewrite at some point, tbh!

[btvs] familiar (2,034 words) AUGH i am SO proud of this fic. SO SO PROUD. it’s a concept i really can’t explain and the little twist at the end is something i really really like, so...just read it.

[miss fisher’s murder mysteries] unbearable (5,670 words) i need to write more mfmm in 2020 but the amount of good fic out there is deeply intimidating/delightful. this one was my little “what if it was phryne who thought jack was dead” and tbqh i had a lot of fun with it? bc pining phryne (who makes brief but extremely poignant appearances throughout the series) is an awkwardly, heart-meltingly sincere lady.

[ace attorney] man’s duty to society (544 words) wrote this as my first foray into aa fic while getting emo about miles edgeworth. would absolutely still die for that man.

[ace attorney] fancy running into you (5,887 words) lots of schmoopy narumitsu fluff! gregory edgeworth is alive! miles is trauma-free! phoenix is an artist! just!!! goodness!!!!!!!

[ace attorney] big sister (2,741 words) set in the same gregory-edgeworth-is-alive ‘verse: babey franziska comes to live with miles and his dad. she is a little impossible but miles kinda does love her.

[ace attorney] prince charming edgeworth and his incredible tux (8,042 words) this fic came from me being like “i want to write phoenix swooning over miles in a tuxedo and being like HE LOOKS LIKE A DISNEY PRINCE” and spiraled into something much longer!

[ace attorney] fate, choice, and everything in between (4,384 words) SOULMATE AU. nothing i love more than deconstructing soulmate aus. but like. in a romantic way. also phoenix and miles ARE soulmates and that is JUST facts.

Favorite Fic: I WROTE SO MUCH STUFF THO LIKE !?!??! how can one expect me to distill it to just one fic? i’ll make it my top threeL

a california january (I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC. it is soft and angsty and silly and devastating and tender. all the calendiles feels.)

i still want to be your girl (same mood!!! i’ve wanted to write this fic for literal years, and it’s one of those rare occasions where the picture in my head actually turned out BETTER when written out!)

sunshine ladies (this is like my giles/jenny/anya ship manifesto and it still makes me happy to think about them all co-running the magic box together and smooching a lot.)

Hardest Fic: OOF uh i went through a rocky period of writing when transitioning into college? no such roses and dear friend were hit the hardest by my insecurity & my desire to Finish Things rather than actually spend time on the craft. but i’m much more settled in now and my writing is DEFINITELY in an upward swing (as my newest fic -- as day follows night -- attests to quite nicely, imo)

Do You Plan to Take Prompts in 2020? always always yes! (i’m bad at following through with them, but am ALWAYS accepting them.)

What was the best thing about 2019? there were almost too many good things to COUNT, but i think all of them were made possible by me working extremely hard to get myself the FUCK out of my abusive parents’ house and into my first choice college!! i’m thriving, y’all.

What was the worst thing about 2019? realizing that both of my parents are fundamentally terrible people. that part kinda sucked.

Any last thoughts for 2019? i finally understand what it’s like to fall asleep feeling safe, and to notice the way the leaves change color, and to get excited about self-indulgent things like food and cuddly stuffed animals and my own fic and art. 2019 brought a lot of happiness into my life, and oh yeah also i’m in love! lots of cool stuff going on.

Goals for 2020

finish the latest braveryverse installment!

MORE ART JUST IN GENERAL. i love drawing, but there’s not a lot of free time for artsy celia when they prioritize writing so often!

write one of the many incredible longfic ideas that’s floating around in my head. it’s honestly probably only like two or three big ones, but at least DECIDE which one i’m gonna focus my energy on.

more giles/anya this year!

more giles/jenny/anya this year!

diversify! still gonna be writing about jenny forever, but like. it might be fun to write about a few new things here and there.

maybe some more ace attorney fic? maybe even some mfmm fic again? phryne and jack are never far from my heart.

not tagging anyone bc this is....january. but if you wanna do it, feel free!

#fic #fic roundup #ngl i'm like really proud of this list #stayed up.....two hours....to complete it

[lucelockwood]

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

Lucy can’t tell if nothing has changed or if everything has.

On the one hand, life following their engagement continues on just about as it always has. She’s known for ages that her life and Anthony’s were inseparably intertwined. She knows he loves her, with a certainty that she’d never have thought possible only a few short years earlier. The fact that they were now engaged to be married did not cement these truths in Lucy’s mind any more than they had already been.

But she cannot say that her world is entirely unaltered either. Every time she moves she feels the foreign weight of the ring on her hand, accompanied by a spike of breathless excitement. It’s impossible to feel like nothing has changed when everything she does is now accompanied by the reminder that she’s going to marry Anthony. That he wants to be with her, and only her. That he’s so certain of his choice that he wants to promise to stay with her for the rest of his life even though they’re barely adults by the world’s standards.

It’s insane, Lucy knows it’s insane. But nothing in her life has ever felt so perfectly right, either.

Anthony is his usual suave self, complete with blinding smiles and uncharted levels of confidence, but there are differences in him as well. The genuine, soft happiness that Lucy often catches glimpses of in quiet moments now burns bright and unchecked. It’s in the long looks he throws her way, in the tone of his voice when he talks to her, in the way he takes her hand under the table or pulls her into a quiet corner for a moment alone. In everything Anthony Lockwood does, it is clear: there has never been anyone as perfectly happy as he is, and she is the reason.

Well, if they’re measuring happiness, Lucy’s pretty sure she could give him a run for his money.

They don’t tell anyone outright, but in a family like theirs, there’s absolutely no chance of keeping something like this secret for long. And sure enough, it doesn’t even take a day before Holly notices the ring on Lucy’s finger.

They’re all in the office when it happens, making preparations for that evening’s case. Lucy’s deep in discussion with Anthony, sitting on the side of her desk with her feet propped up on the side of his. He is opposite her, leaning against his desk, one hand resting on her ankle. She’s got her arms folded, the fingers of her left hand absentmindedly drumming on her arm as they spoke.

Holly’s unholy shriek from the other side of the room draws the attention of everyone in the office. There’s a moment of silence in which Holly’s hands cover her mouth, and then pandemonium breaks loose.

“Holly, what—”

Anthony is interrupted by Quill, who comes skidding in from the practice room with his rapier out defensively. “What is it, what’s happened?”

Holly darts around the workbags and belts that are neatly arranged around her, unapologetically knocking George’s latest experiment off of his desk as she crosses the room and ignoring his protests in the resulting crash. “Lucy Carlyle, is that what I think it is?”

Unnerved by the sudden commotion and Holly’s piercing gaze, Lucy can only manage a startled “what?”

The question comes from both her and George, who abruptly abandons his mess in favor of discovering what it is that has the normally composed Holly so excited. Behind them all, Quill lets out a long-suffering sigh. “So no one’s dying in here? We’re just shrieking at will now, is that it?”

He’s more or less ignored as Holly grabs Lucy’s hand in both of hers, pulling until she can see the ring clearly. Across from Lucy, Anthony starts to laugh, holding up his hands in surrender when Lucy shoots him the sternest look she can manage.

“It is, isn’t it?” Holly squeals, shoving Lucy’s hand in front of George’s face so he can see it as well. “Oh, I knew something was up, you’ve both been giggling all day!”

“Giggling?” Anthony protests, though he’s still laughing and Lucy’s scowling “have not” drowns him out. Quill’s moving in from behind now, craning his neck in an effort to see. “I’d love to be clued in,” he says to no one in particular.

“Lucy’s got an engagement ring,” Holly beams, taking pity on him at last and showing him the ring. “Right?” she asks Lucy, whose face is burning so hot that she’s certain it’s turned a deep shade of red.

“I do, in fact,” Lucy says, exasperated, “though I missed the part where it’s anyone else’s business. And I’d like my hand back.”

Holly doesn’t seem to hear her, she’s too busy inspecting the beautiful setting. Lucy can’t blame her for that; the ring is breathtaking, and she’s spent her own fair share of time that day staring at it herself.

“I suppose that’s your ring then, Lockwood?” George asks, looking pointedly between him and Lucy.

“Wouldn’t that be a riot if it wasn’t,” Quill mutters, though he is now grinning as broadly as Holly.

“It’s mine,” Anthony says, with just the slightest hint of defensiveness in his tone. “Well, now it’s Lucy’s, technically.”

George straightens, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger. “You’re getting married.” It’s not a question, just a statement of fact.

Nothing Lucy has thought or heard yet has so perfectly captured her own feelings on the subject as George’s blunt observation. They’re getting married. It’s not a question, a what if, or a dream. It’s simply what is—what always was going to happen. She smiles at George broadly. “Yeah, we are.”

There is pandemonium again at that, though it’s of a less panicked variety than the first. Holly continues to squeal, hugging Lucy, then Anthony, then Lucy again, before giving in and hugging them both. When they can get Holly out of the way, Quill and George both offer their congratulations in the form of handshakes. George is boasting a rare smile and Quill’s handshake with Lucy turns into a one-armed hug, and then Holly’s back again. A host of questions follows, most of them predictably revolving around when they’re planning to have the wedding, though Holly’s questions turn very quickly towards flowers and colors and dresses and a million other things that Lucy hasn’t even had the time to consider yet.

They’d barely even talked about dates, let alone all the rest of it, so Lucy shrugs off all the questions with a simple “we’ll let you know.”

“Hopefully soon,” Anthony adds, and Lucy knows in no uncertain terms that he means the wedding itself. His gaze burns into hers, setting her heart racing and her face aflame all over again. She shoots him a patented Carlyle Look, but the effect is ruined by the smile that is drawn out of her at the sight of him—flushed, beaming, happy. He takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together with a reassuring squeeze that Lucy returns.

George and Quill both take the sudden shift in atmosphere as their cue to leave. With a final round of congratulations and a few pointed looks, they head up the spiral staircase together. Lucy distinctly hears Quill’s amused voice muttering about babies marrying babies before she’s distracted by Holly, who poses one last question. “How did you propose, Lockwood?”

“I just asked her,” Anthony shrugs, winking at Lucy when she rolls her eyes, completely unimpressed.

“I had to relive every near-death experience we’ve ever had,” Lucy protests, turning to face her incorrigible boyfriend. Fiancé. Another fabulous look is destroyed by the smile that springs to life at this mental correction. “Vague comments with no context. For a week. That’s ‘just asking,’ is it?”

His smile matches hers, and though his words are teasing, his voice can only be described as smitten. “I had to wait for the right moment or the effect would have been ruined, Luce.”

“Right, and you got no enjoyment whatsoever out of teasing me in the meantime.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Anthony Lockwood—”

They’re interrupted by a laugh from Holly, who Lucy had quite forgotten was even in the room. Her attention had focused in on Anthony, his infuriating smirk, his endearing blush, his teasing that warmed her right down to her toes. His inherent gravitational pull—stronger now than it had ever been before—had done the rest.

“Nevermind,” Holly grins. She looks from Lucy to Anthony and back again with such a knowing look that Lucy is immediately mortified. “I’ll ask you later, Luce. I’m so happy for you both.” She turns and heads for the spiral staircase, tossing the same knowing look over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen above and leaving the office suddenly, blessedly silent.

Lucy lets out a breath of relief. “That went over better than I thought it would.”

“Did you see that look?” Anthony murmurs in her ear, his tone unapologetic despite his blush. “You’d think we were getting up to all kinds of mischief when they’re not looking.”

“We are,” Lucy says brazenly, but the rest of her retort stalls when Anthony presses a kiss just below her ear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He doesn’t pull away; instead his lips brush against her skin as he speaks, sending shivers straight to Lucy’s toes. He kisses her again where her neck meets her jaw, lingering there as his arms circle her from behind. “I find all this talk of marriage has put me in an extremely good mood.”

“Must be nice,” Lucy grumbles, though her voice catches with each new kiss. “Mostly it’s just given me anxiety.”

Lucy can feel his smile growing, feel his breath warm on her skin. “I can change that.”

#inktober ficlets #day 28 #part 4 #uh so there's gonna be five parts now #sorry about that #locklyle #also #maybe slightly more amorous than my usual fluff #there at the end #anthony lockwood would not stop trying to kiss her #literally #this boy #my writing #writing practice

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing Apr 1st - Apr 7th

Another week, another roundup! Special thanks to all who submitted works, both for themselves and others. 

As a gentle reminder, we’re here to highlight any new content from the previous week. If we missed a submission, we’ll be happy to update our post or carry it over to the next week, but if we tried to include everything beyond a week, we’d never get a post finished!

Thank you so much!

--Mod Rem

Fanfiction:

A Little Piece of Gundam Wing

The archive is being ported to AO3! Check it out!

AerisEithne

The Snow Queen 

Days after the incident that nearly sparked a new war, Relena returns to the Sanc Kingdom to contemplate her future. She can’t help but wonder which path the perfect soldier will choose… and whether their destinies will continue to collide.

Pairings: 1xR

Warnings: Gundam Wing: Frozen Teardrop, Preventers (Gundam Wing)

 @the-indomitable-bhg, Morbidbirdy

Animus

A ghost of Heero's past takes possession of his life, relationships and his identity.

Pairings: 1x3, 2xH

Warnings: Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Post-Canon, Psychological Torture, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content

@claraxbarton , @kangofu-cb

Bad Company 

"The only hell and the only paradise are the ones we build ourselves." - Unknown

Years after the wars, Preventers has decided to tackle one of the most powerful and oldest of all the Terran crime syndicates. Embedded dangerously deep in an undercover operation targeting the violent and bloodthirsty Sinaloa Cartel, Trowa Barton is pushed beyond even his flexible morals - and when his new "partner" arrives in the very unexpected and unwelcome form of Duo Maxwell, the one person he'd been trying to protect at all costs, both men must deal with the realization that preserving peace for humanity is turning into a bloodsport.

What follows is race against time to uncover the evidence they need to bring Sinaloa, and its beautiful but deadly leaders, down - all while keeping each other alive in the process

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Violence, Post-Canon, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Human Trafficking, Gang Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Moral Dilemmas

CosmicAether

Untitled GW Resistance AU 

When their communicator breaks down, Duo and Trowa must survive the night before attempting to rendezvous to their extraction point. Duo confronts Trowa about their relationship that night and vow to be more honest with each other, they need only to make it home first.

Pairings: 2x3

DarkDanc3r

April Writes Playlist Challenge 

30 days, 30 songs from a Spotify playlist. Characters and pairings will be at the start of each chapter.

Warnings: Tumblr Prompt, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fix-It of Sorts, Damnit Prowl Lives

GlassAlice

The Pictures He Drew 

Hiatus is over! Last chapter will be up in two weeks. Re-write of a fic posted to 1x2 yahoo groups I wrote forever ago and lost. Only the bare bones of this fic have anything to do with the first one. Hopefully this one is a bit better. Originally posted under name Duos_hallelujah. Simple get together fic with Duo being an artist.

Pairings: 1xR, 1x2

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Song Fic Kinda, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, these boys are messed up, they need therapy, after war, the pilots trying to live their lives, 1x2, 2x1 - Freeform, 1x2x1, 1xR non con, 1x2 end game, we're back from hiatus, boys just trying to figure shit out, relena is kind of the bad guy, Sorry Not Sorry, i'm anti relena, so expect her to be treated badly, bullied duo, attempted suicide, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, language trigger warnings, a bit dark, Angst

Lithle

Like Oxygen 

Five years after the war, Wufei seeks Duo out for one more mission. But Duo has his reasons for wanting to be left alone. As Wufei and Duo grow closer, so do Duo's memories of the war, and with them, the old scars and dangerous thought patterns that make even breathing seem difficult.

--Note: Originally published on FF.net, this is my 'Editor's Choice' edition. It's been edited and slightly rewritten for flow and cohesion.

Pairings: 2x5

Warnings: Unhealthy Relationships, Post War Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, no EW, Post-War, Post-Canon, POV Duo Maxwell, Explicit Language, Sex, Duo is Broken, Wufei is Pretty Broken Too, Gritty, Get Together

Luvsanime02

Just One Day 

Relena gets a surprise on her birthday.

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light Angst, Family Issues, Cocktail Friday

Maldoror

The Source of All Things

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

Pairings: 3x4, 2x5, eventual 1x2x5

Warnings: Violence, alternative universe, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Two Halves

The two kingdoms of Sanq and Lin were at war for years; a conflagration involving magic, armies and political murder. The conflict left both nations devastated and strewn with refugees. The king of Sanq finds his infant son, lost at birth, among the death and the ruin, a miracle he barely dared to hope for. But there isn’t just one boy, there are two, clinging together like two halves of a whole that cannot be separated. Decades later, the truth behind that second child’s existence will put a hole in the world, or possibly save it.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Fantasy AU, medieval setting with magic, starts with our heroes as children, Cousin Incest, sort of, eventually, being royalty this is in fact the norm and rather expected of them, Canon-Typical Violence

Margaret_Armstrong

Queen’s Rook 

Rook; definition:

1. a gregarious Eurasian crow with black plumage and a bare face, nesting in colonies in treetops.

2. a chess piece, typically with its top in the shape of a battlement, that can move in any direction along a rank or file on which it stands.

Queen's Rook; definition:

(chess) A rook on the queen’s side of the board at the start of the game.

Truly, a female bodyguard is just what the Vice Foreign Minister needs. There are dangers about.

Pairings: Canon Relationships, 3x4, 2xH, 1xR

Warnings: Violence, Women Being Awesome, brothers in arms, everyone protects Quatre except Quatre, L2 forever!, The Past Never Stays Buried

 @noelleian

The Pact 

After seducing Quatre, the other four ex-pilots brave the uncharted waters of their new abilities and learn to cope with the unintentional gifts they were given. But as always, power requires responsibility and the humbling acknowledgement of humanity's weaknesses. The struggle to stay true to themselves becomes a dangerous and terrifying endeavor as they skirt the boundary where conscience bleeds into chaos and the dark abyss of temptation.

Pairings: 1x2x3x4x5, 3x4, 1x4, 2x4, 4x5

Warnings: Smut, Porn With Plot, OT5, Fluff, Humor, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Angst, Newtypes, Possessive Behavior, Alternate Universe - Dark, Non-Graphic Violence, Alpha/Omega, Omega Verse

Green Olive

Duo's had a rough day and needs to unwind, but this time he's in the mood for some company.

Warnings: Friendship, Bromance, Underage Drinking

@noirangetrois

Cocktail Friday

This will be a collection of my Cocktail Friday snippets.

Pairings: Various

Warnings: Cocktail Friday, Alcohol

The Story of Wrong 

Duo recounts his experiences during the war in order to explain... well, why he was wrong.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Violence, Major Character Death, Duo POV, Angst, Drama, Tragedy, slight AU, Spoilers, very dark, Heero and Duo don't die, I promise, Yaoi, slowburn, Mental Instability, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, If those are in any way an issue for you then go ahead and skip this, Eventual Smut, VERY eventual, this is mostly canon-compliant but I've changed a couple things here and there

Outrightmight

MCU One Shot Series: After Colony 195 

"It took Bucky a split second to get his bearings. The portal had spit them out into an aircraft hanger. The make and model of the one and only small jet was unfamiliar. He would have said it was of Soviet make, but the 50-foot robot idly standing in the middle of the hanger was making him second-guess himself."

Warnings: Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Duo Maxwell, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Heero Yuy, Canon-Typical Violence, One Shot

@remsyk-blog

Souls for the Bayou 

For Trowa Barton, exploring the bayou is the ultimate adventure. Drawn to its borders since before he could walk, he spent his childhood learning its paths and uncovering its secrets.

But a chance encounter sets him on a path that spans across time, challenging everything he thought he knew, plunging him deeper into its mysteries than he ever thought possible.

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Supernatural - Freeform, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Bayou, Cajun, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Mystery, Slow Burn, Technically Speaking, Young Love, Use of accents, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't want to give it all away at once, Fandom Trumps Hate, Time Jump, Suspense, Quatre is a great friend, Mentions of Children Disappearing

Shenanigans

A Collection of my shitposts from Tumblr.

Enter looking for a good time. Expect the tags to change as more installments are added

Warnings: chat fic, shitpost, Professor!Trowa, Cooking, Pinterest, Pancakes, Exercising, Tumblr Prompt, Originally Posted on Tumblr, In depth analysis of riding dick, New Year’s Eve, Jenga, Stupid Dares, Just Heero Things

ShenLong

Bound, Bonded and Betrayed 

Heero is the eldest son of the King of Colonia. His 21st birthday is approaching and as tradition dictates his betrothed is soon to arrive. However he is also bound by tradition to select his own personal slave. The events that unfold lead him down a path that not only tests his sanity but his humanity and love as well.

Pairings: 1x2, 1xR, 3x4, 13x11

Warnings: sap, Angst, Bondage, Slavery, Yaoi, Lemon, Lime, Het, Violence, Fluff, AU, OOC. - Freeform

@softnocturne

P.S. I Miss You

Quatre is missing Trowa who is off on a month-long mission.

Pairings: 3x4

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

StarLove18

Believe in Yourself

Children will live what they learn. Pain is costly, until one incident sparks a new flame of hope and a promise to persevere.

Pairings: 1&2&3&4&5

Warnings: Original Character(s), Bullying, Comfort/Angst, School, Minor Violence, Loss of Parent(s), Alternate Universe, AO3 FB Challenge

Thai_tea_addict

Abyss

Duo's not in a good situation when he falls in love with the man next door, and it goes downhill from there.

Pairings: 1x2, 2x3x4

Warnings: Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-con, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Character, Abuse, Stalking, Murder, Sadism, Infidelity

Warnings: DARK – please don't read if you think any of the following subject matter could hurt you: depictions of abuse, sexual assault, stalking, murder, sadism (not the fun kind).

Whenpigsfly84

Doormat Babe

A mysterious child is left with Duo one morning. As he seeks for answers he'll have to face his past and prepare for a haunting future he'd never expected. Will he be able to reconnect with old friends or will he lose all those he loves?

Pairings: 1x2, 2&H, 1x2x5, 3x4

Warnings: Violence, Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Swearing

White_fox

Life is a Highway 

On an impulsive plan to travel from California to New York City to propose to his longtime girlfriend, Heero Yuy did not plan to pick up a hitchhiker in nowhere Texas. Faced with some setbacks and a growing attraction to his passenger, Heero goes through more challenges than he planned on facing.

Pairings: 1x2, 1xR

Warnings: light slash, Fluff, Road Trips, Dubious Morality

Snippets:

@lifeaftermeteor

Duo’s Apartment

@noirangetrois

Ladies Night

@weiclown

WIP  

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

@remsyk-blog

Gundam Wing on Ao3 - Breakdown of Fanfiction stats 

 @terrablaze514

Ladies of Gundam Wing 

Secret Magic Heero Yuy 

Four Months after Mariemaia 

Fanart:

@noelleian

Zero Three Zero Four

Hipster Quatre 

@remsyk-blog

Duo Maxwell Hip Hop

 @showtime-eric

Trowa and Quatre, Sandrock and Heavyarms

 Crackposts:

@the-indomitable-bhg

BDSM 

Calendar Events:

Cocktail Friday

https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/

A new prompt every Monday!

Submissions should be posted Fridays between 3 and 5pm EST, and tagged with @gwcocktailfriday

Interview with a Creator by @remsyk-blog @interview-with-a-creator

Remsyk has created an online interview for fandom creators to fill out and then she features one each week so that everyone in the fandom can learn a bit about each other.

This week features @scacao

If you haven’t filled out her interview, go! do! now!

#thisweekingundamwing #gundam wing #weekly roundup

[tayegi]

Perception, Misconceptions Pt. 1 (m)

Loosely inspired by the webtoon Cheese in the Trap

Written for my 2nd anniversary request game and the prompt: Hoseok + member’s POV

Word Count: 4,099

The movie playing on the laptop nestled on Hoseok's legs is reaching its climax. A dozen characters rush about on the screen, accompanied by a cacophony of blaring sounds. Hoseok is completely enthralled by the plot. You can tell by the way his breathing stutters and his hands clench on the edge of the popcorn bowl. It's a good movie—highly acclaimed and recommended by more than a few of your friends. But you can't bring yourself to pay attention to the noisy movie characters when there's an even more interesting character sitting right next to you.

Your eyes absorb Hoseok's dark profile instead of the flashing colors of the screen. His eyes are wide, eyebrows knit tight and lips slightly parted in concern. You've been dating Jung Hoseok for over six months now, but his beauty still manages to take your breath away.

You roam your eyes down his handsome face to his white-knuckled grip on the glass bowl. You want to hold his hand. It would be so easy to simply rest your palm on top of his tight fist and smooth out his stiff fingers. Maybe you could pretend to reach for a handful of popcorn, then let your touch linger…

Your fingers twitch by your side, but courage flits out of reach and you smother the urge.

Suddenly, a memory of the day you and Hoseok first started dating flashes across your mind. You remember the dark alley outside of your apartment complex—the single flickering lamppost illuminating the dank hall and the chill of the bitter winter wind whipping against your bare face. It had been finals week and you were anxious to get home and bundle up with blankets in bed after a long night camped out at the library, but you had to thank Hoseok for walking you home first.

Eager to get this over with, you had spun around on your heel to face him, but before you could get a single word out, Hoseok had abruptly asked you out. You remember the complete and utter blanking of your mind as shock as you had never experienced before rendered you immobile.

At first, you thought that you had heard wrong. How could Jung Hoseok possibly want to date you? Not only was the popular sunbae way out of your league, but you barely knew him. He was more of an acquaintance than a friend and this impromptu study session at the library was one of the first times the two of you had spent any significant time alone. You must have heard wrong.

But as time passed with you gaping at him without a response, Hoseok's shoulders had slumped. He raked a hand through his hair in embarrassment and stammered out an apology, "Oh… I see. Please forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable, ___-ah. I understand and completely respect your decision… Have a good night."

But before he could turn and take even one step away from you, both your hands had snatched out to grab his like you'd suddenly been possessed. It was an automatic reflex—an unexpected jerk like you've just been electrocuted. Hoseok had turned around slowly to face you again, his confused eyes meeting your terrified ones. And just like that, the two of you had started dating.

You continue to stare at Hoseok next to you on the couch, this time focusing on the sharp line of his jaw. It's as straight and prominent as a razorblade and your stomach clenches every time a muscle flexes. Even now, you don't understand why he's dating you. And back then, you were even more confused.

At first, you had assumed that it was just for convenience's sake. He's a dancer and you're a painter, so you share a mutual group of artistic friends. He had been single for over a year and you've never dated before, so it made logical sense for the two of you to hook up. You hadn't expected much from this relationship. And to be frank, you expected it to last about a month. You'd go out a few times, he'd help you get through all of your firsts and gain a bit of experience, then break up once he realized how utterly incompatible the two of you are.

You never expected to be dating him for so long… or so slowly.

It took Hoseok an entire month to hold your hand for the first time. And another month to steal your first kiss. Six months in, and you're still a virgin. A miserable, horny virgin who finds it harder and harder to resist her gorgeous boyfriend with every passing day.

God, you want to kiss him. His lips are slightly parted his head tilted down in the perfect angle for you to close the gap. It's been two weeks since he's last kissed you and you feel like you might go insane with need. But you've never initiated before and crippling nerves make the feat impossible. So you continue to stare at his beautiful face as terrible fantasies food your mind. But luckily the darkness of the room conceals your shame.

All too soon, the movie comes to an end. Hoseok sighs deeply in contentment when the credits roll across the screen and shuts his laptop, "Ah, that movie was so great, jagi."

You force a smile, as if you had been paying attention to the movie and not the delicious jut of his collarbones this whole time, "Yes, it was."

Hoseok smiles back and reaches out to fondly pat your hand. Heat flushes over you. It's incredible how he can so easily touch you like this. More than anything, you want to reach out and keep his hand on yours. But he's already rising to his feet. "It's late, ___," he says with a muffled yawn as he slips his laptop back into his backpack, "I should head out now."

"Let me walk you out," you say, instantly springing to your feet.

"Alright," he smiles, "Thanks."

You lead him through your apartment and to the front door, dragging your feet to slow down the process in a way you hope isn't too conspicuous. Then you inch the door knob open and pause, "When will I see you again, sunbae?"

"I'm busy with dance practice and my internship this week… But maybe we can get dinner one of these days?"

You nod, trying not to let your disappointment show, "That would be great."

"Great. I'll text you, jagi."

"Wait!" You call out, stopping him in his tracks. Hoseok turns to stare at you in curiosity and your cheeks flush, "Um… sunbae, it-it's pretty late now… Wouldn't it be better if you just slept over?" The one and only time he's ever slept over, he crashed on an inflatable mattress on your bedroom floor and you were too excited to sleep all night.

"Ah it's fine. It's warm out, and the days have been getting so much longer. Look—it's barely dark out."

You stomach drops at the sight of a few, stubborn rays of sun poking from the horizon, "Oh… okay… Please be safe, sunbae."

He chuckles and swoops down to wrap his arms around your shoulders. For a split second, your heart races when his face comes dangerously near yours, but it quickly drops again when he pulls back, "Will do, jagi."

As though struck by lightning, you lurch forward to cling to his thin sweater, holding him in place. Hoseok stiffens in confusion and that's when you take the opportunity to close the gap between the two of you and initiate a kiss for the very first time in your life.

The softness of his full lips feels like a slap of icy water in the face. Every nerve is on white-hot alert. You're so fully aware of yourself that it's almost painful.

Hoseok is immobile for a full second before he finally relaxes into the kiss. His lips move slightly against yours—chaste, as always, with absolutely no hint of moisture, but it's so delicious that your mind feels foggy from desire.

Then, something very unexpected happens—completely uncharted territory.

Hoseok parts his lips the very tiniest bit… Then, as quick as a cobra's strike, he runs his tongue over your bottom lip. It feels like a blood vessel has burst in your brain, the way electricity suddenly explodes through your nervous system. You've never felt anything so smooth and wet and fucking incredible. Your fingers twitch in his shirt as you unconsciously moan against his mouth. You would have done anything he asked at this point. In a blink of an eye, you're ready to give everything up to him. If he had licked you again, you're one hundred percent certain that you would have given him your virginity, then and there.

Instead, he pulls away, "Good night, beautiful." And then his back is turned to yours.

You stand there, knees wobbly and head spinning as you watch him walk away until he's turned the corner. And only then do you allow yourself to slump to the ground, touching your electrocuted bottom lip with a whimper.

You can't stop thinking about the brief touch of his tongue to your lip. Such an innocuous kiss, and yet it haunts you. You want him to do it again. To your lips, your neck, down to your—

Your face warms up at the thought and you slap both hands over your cheeks to hide the blush. Maybe Hoseok will do that again tonight. You're wearing a brand new dress that you bought just for your dinner date that evening. Your nails are done, your hair styled, and your new dress fits you like a glove. You look so pretty today, there's no way your boyfriend can resist kissing you again.

You feel like you might burst with glee as you skip down the hall of Hoseok's dance studio. You're not scheduled to meet him for another half an hour, but you wanted to surprise him. His showcase is in just two weeks and he's been working so hard that you want to show him your support in any way possible.

As you near the practice room, sultry music suffuses your ears. It's slower and sexier than his usual energetic hip-hop beats. Excited to catch a sneak peak of the choreography, you rush to the practice room and poke your head in. But it seems like they have already finished and you feel a twinge of disappointment as you watch the group of dancers idly stretch and wipe their sweat in the practice room.

Your eyes immediately latch onto Hoseok's slim figure and you're about to rush over to throw your arms around him when you realize that he's talking to somebody. You freeze, three steps away from him in the studio as you watch a beautiful redheaded girl throw her waist-length hair back and laugh at something Hoseok's said.

You're crazy. You're being completely unreasonable right now… But is it just your imagination or does the redhead's hand linger on your boyfriend's arm for a second too long?

You clear your throat loudly, interrupting their little moment. They spin around to face you and their subsequent reactions cannot be more dissimilar. Hoseok's mouth splits into a brilliant smile at the sight of you while the redhead's lips thin into a line.

"___-ah!" He exclaims in delight, "You're here early!"

You happily rush over to throw your arms around him, "Yes, I wanted to surprise you."

"Eh, I haven't showered yet," he says, trying to escape your embrace, "I'm sweaty and I probably stink."

"No, you smell great," you assure him, and you're not lying. There's something about Hoseok just out of dance practice, glistening with sweat and defined chest heaving for breath that makes your tummy clench. He does smell—but in the most delicious, musky, masculine way possible. You subtly tuck your face into the collar of his shirt to catch one last whiff before Hoseok is laughingly pushing you away.

"Yah, let me shower and get dressed, then we can leave."

Your face drops at the thought of him washing off his intoxicating scent, "Ok, sunbae…"

He chuckles at your disappointed expression and presses a quick kiss to your forehead, "Just give me ten minutes…" he's picking up his duffle bag when he suddenly remembers his dance partner, "Oh, shoot. I forgot to ask—have the two of you met before?"

The striking redhead crosses her arms over her chest, making her breasts bulge against the thin fabric, "No, I don't believe we have."

"This is Lisa," he says, playfully swinging an arm around his gorgeous dance partner's slender shoulders, "Lisa, this is ___, my girlfriend."

Despite your disapproval of their skinship, you can't help but brighten at his introduction. Lisa is not as pleased, "Oh… I didn't realize you had a girlfriend, Hobi-ah."

You bristle at her casual use of a nickname. Is she really so comfortable that she can just throw that term around when you yourself are still too awkward? "Yes, we've been dating for over half a year now," you speak up. You have no idea what's come over you. You're not the type to engage in this alpha wolf pissing contest. But you don't like the way she's eyeing your man.

Hoseok affectionately ruffles your hair before turning back to Lisa, "I'm going to hit the showers now. Do you mind keeping ___ company for a few minutes?"

"I don't mind at all," the redhead says, a grin plastered over her delicate features.

"Great." You smile just as widely.

Hoseok isn't sure how long he has been in love with you. He's had a crush on you since he first laid eyes on you when stumbling across your work at the Freshman gallery years ago. And when you went into your second year, and he into his third, the two of you shared a general education class. It was a huge media productions lecture required by both of your majors, and unfortunately populated with many of your fellow fine arts friends.

Hoseok spent a long, stressful semester trying to slowly burrow his way into your friend group. Then another semester in an obscure Renaissance sculptures class, which he just barely managed to pass, just because he overheard you discussing it with friends in the hallway.

After a whole year of this unhealthy, borderline stalkerish behavior, and a nearly fucked up GPA, Hoseok decided that something had to give. He couldn't continue to revolve his life around you. He needed to get over his infatuation, and quick.

So when he offers to walk you home on an icy December evening, he has his whole confession planned out. He'll tell you how he feels, then you'll reject him so he can get over you and begin the healing process. It won't be pretty, and he realizes that he'll probably be bedridden with ice cream to mourn for the next week, but at least it'll be over. It's not healthy to be so in love with a girl who's never looked twice at him. He needs to get you out of his system.

But when he stops in front of your doorstep to confess, he's struck dumb by how pretty you look illuminated in moonlight, hair fanned out like a silvery halo across your shoulders. His meticulously rehearsed confession slips from his mind. And before he can collect his scattered mind, he finds himself asking you out to dinner.

His face burns red at once, regret striking him dumb as he stares at you with fearful eyes. The minuscule, practically non-existent tendril of hope is extinguished entirely as you stare at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. Only then does he finally snap back into it, fumbling an apology, sweat sliding down his collar despite the freezing wintry air, as he turns to make his escape.

Soft hands surrounding his stop him in his tracks. Hoseok slowly turns back around and nearly has a heart attack at the sight of you clutching his hand with determination.

"Yes."

It takes him a full second to process that unimaginable word coming from your lips, "Wh-what?" he chokes, feeling light-headed all of a sudden.

You smile then, looking so pretty that his heart skips and tumbles in his chest, "Yes, I would love to get dinner with you."

Hoseok never does manage to confess and get you out of his system. But somehow he can't complain. Having you as his girlfriend is a million times better.

You're innocent. He doesn't have to ask you to know. You blush at the simplest things, nervously ducking your head and avoiding eye contact when he holds your hand on the seventh date and giggling uncontrollably when he kisses you for the first time two months in.

Hoseok has no idea what possessed you to agree to date him. But it's clear that he likes you a lot more than you do him (…if you do actually like him, that is. He is still uncertain about that) and he'll do everything in his power to keep from scaring you away. If this means taking things slow to make sure you're comfortable, then so be it…

It's easier said than done.

Hoseok broke up with his last girlfriend a few months before he met you. Add in a whole year of pining and six months of dating, and it's been nearly two years since Hoseok has last had sex. He is twenty-three years old now and hasn't had an orgasm induced by anything other than his right hand since he was twenty-one. It's torturous for a young man of his age. And beyond excruciatingly painful when you're always in arm's reach, batting those eyelashes at him and frowning so innocently that he can't help but imagine how your lips would pout in the exact same way if he teased you with his tongue until you were begging him to let you come…

He loves you and he respects you too much to ever take advantage of you unless he knew that you truly wanted it. It's been six months, but you've never really confessed your feelings yet. You've never initiated anything, never reached out to him first. And Hoseok can't help but feel as though he's living a lie—that you're too nice and you can't say no to him although you don't reciprocate his feelings. He should really just let you go.

But then you kiss him for the first time.

It's your weekly movie night. Hoseok prefers going to your place for these dates because it's easier to extricate himself from the situation when things get too heated. The one time he had invited you over for a date night, you had laid yourself out across his bed, clueless as you burrowed yourself in the same sheets he laid in every night. Hoseok couldn't stop the filthy thoughts that flooded his mind when he took in the way you looked, hair fanned out across the pillows and sleeping shorts riding dangerously high up your thighs… It would be so easy for him to crawl between those delightfully spread legs and finally, finally sate his intolerable lust….

Yes, it's much safer to hang out at your place. This way, he can politely refuse to go into your bedroom, and keep a healthy distance between your bodies on the sofa. 

Last week, he made the mistake of picking a romantic comedy he thought you would like, that happened to have a sex scene. Just sitting next to you while watching such an erotic scene unfurl across the screen made him uncomfortably aroused. This time, he picks the driest, Oscar-winning drama he can find.

And it seems to be going well. The drama is intriguing, yet so devoid of romance that he's able to curb his urges—well, at least, better than usual. When the movie ends, he's secretly patting himself on the back for his impressive self-control while he bids you goodnight. It's all going remarkably smoothly.

But then you grab him by the front of the shirt and yank him forward.

He's too disoriented by your uncharacteristic behavior to prepare himself. So when your lips crash into his, he doesn't have the time to hold his breath and steel himself like usual. As a result, your scent and the sensation of your unbelievably soft lips against his catch him by surprise. He's too weak to hold himself back and helplessly melts against you, lips parting automatically to deepen the kiss.

But the moment his tongue strokes against your bottom lip, you make a sound he's never heard before. You moan.

He could have never imagined such a sultry sound to come from his sweet, innocent little girlfriend's mouth. The moan is delectable—deep-throated, breathy, and so unbelievably sexual that his body reacts at once, blood rushing to his groin at such a breakneck pace that he jerks away from you in shock.

Hoseok is grateful for the darkness that hides the pain etched across his features as he bides you farewell, "Good night, beautiful,” he barely managed to grit out. And then, without a second glance, he turns to run for his life.

He just manages to make it into his car, the door slamming shut, before his hands are shoved down his pants. He fumbles with the belt for a few, devastatingly long seconds before he finally wrenches out his achingly hard length and begins yanking at it as hard as he can. The sound of your moan echoes in his mind on repeat, driving him utterly insane as he jerks off in the dark confines of his car.

All it took was one little lick to get you moaning like that. Hoseok can't begin to imagine how delicious you would sound if he touched you properly. Oh, how you would gasp and moan if he kissed down your neck, sucking bruises into the delicate skin, and inching his way lower and lower… He can picture the way you'd look, your head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open wide when he licks his way down between your legs, tasting you and making you scream his name. You've never been touched before. You're completely oblivious to the pleasures of the flesh. He would wreck you so good that no other man could ever compare.

His stomach clenches at those images, and just like that, he's cumming to the thought of you thrashing under the pleasure of his tongue faster than he cares to admit. He strokes himself through his high with deep groans, images of your naked, writhing body flashing through his mind as he basks in his high.

When his ecstasy finally dissipates, he's forced to come back to the grim reality of the cold confines of his car. He's covered in his sticky release and you're nowhere in sight. Hoseok has never felt more ashamed of himself as he tugs off his sweater to hastily clean himself off. This is not the first time he's gotten hard because of you. Nor is it the first time he's gotten hard in the same room with you. But he'd normally wait to go home to work off his frustrations.

Masturbating in his car with you not even one hundred meters away… This is a whole new level of gross. You're so pretty and innocent. Why can't he control his physical reactions and keep his love for you pure?

He's falling harder and harder for you with every passing day. With every new fact or quirk he learns about you, he feels his heart swelling until it feels like it might burst from his chest. He'll do anything to keep you by his side. If that means repressing his unholy urges, then so be it. It's a small price to pay to be able to see your face every day.

He just needs to work harder.

So when you surprise him in the studio a week later, wearing a dress that adheres to every curve of your body like a second skin, he rushes to the bathroom without a second thought, carelessly leaving you with his dance partner in his haste to take the coldest shower of all time to cool himself down. Or else he is not going to survive hours of alone time with you. 

He refuses to ever slip up again... Not until he is positive that you reciprocate his feelings. 

But who knows how long that will take? 

A/N: I think this is the first time I’ve ever written from a member’s POV :O 

Please don’t ask about updates! I think this will be around 2-3 parts! :)

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts scenario #hoseok scenarios #jhope scenarios #hoseok smut #tayegi anniversary #i was sad about not writing enough hyungline earlier #this makes me feel better haha

[mcutrio]

Movie Date [10]

Movie Date [10]

Tags: @buckys-little-monster @imaginesofeverykind

That next day, Kat and Thor found themselves awkwardly attracted to one another. The situation that had taken part the day before left them feeling somewhat strange whilst talking to one another, especially given that their relationship was nothing more than mere strangers, or rather… coworkers. They got along well, their powers complemented one another, and though they may agree that one another was attractive, it wasn’t particularly a relationship that either of them had considered pursuing. Tabitha and Courtenay, in a whirlwind of both new found and old love, perhaps got a little too swept up and found themselves dragging Kat along in the drift.

However, she was willing to go along with it. For as long as she would last within the team, as much as she already seemed to be dwindling, she decided that she might as well have some fun with it.

She met Thor in the kitchen and dropped a Chinese menu pamphlet in front of him, spinning it so that he could read it.

“Now this right here is pure heaven in your mouth,” Kat announced, tapping the leaflet with her hand. “And as sad as it is, you have a much larger meal selection considering you eat dead animals. But… if we’re going to show you what food to eat, then this is where to start.”

“Right,” Thor said, looking at the pamphlet and flicking through it for a moment, “what, so you just summon them with this special code and they arrive at your residence with the food?”

“Something like that,” Kat nodded, grinning at his naivety towards earth and mobile phones. However, he wasn’t particularly that far off, which humoured her the most. “And once we’ve tried enough food to feed a small village, I’m sure I can throw in a couple lessons on cell phones and the like.”

“Cellphones?” Thor questioned. Kat lifted her mobile. “Ah, the devices you and your friends can’t seem to look away from. What’s so interesting about them?”

“Uh… it’s like an all-knowing book that also allows you to contact friends?” Kat shrugged, unsure as to how she should explain it to him.

Thor almost laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You come from a world that we had no idea even existed, Thor. Why is it that a mobile phone has you stumped?” Kat shook her head, scrolling through her contacts. “We’ll catch up on this. For now, decide what you want to order later tonight.”

“A feast,” Thor mused, skimming over the words as Kat pulled up FaceTime and called Tony, who was nestled away somewhere in one of his science-tech rooms.

“What do you want, Buffy?” Tony questioned, flipping up his eye-guards.

“I have a proposal to make,” Kat began, reaching for the notepad that she had doodled on out of boredom only to spit out a couple of neat innovations.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Kat, we’ve already been through this. Bruce and I are together, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“Whatever, laser-brain,” Kat rolled her eyes, lifting the notepad to show Tony her sketches and well-thought out tech. “I think we both know that Court’s glasses are in dire need of an upgrade. Her focus has been getting worse; she’s been complaining about hearing electronic white-noise, too. Stops her from sleeping at night.”

“Oh, for sure,” Tony nodded, “bring your doodles down to the lab and Bruce and I will give it the once over, though I’m sure I can concoct something to help her out.”

“Awesome,” Kat nodded, “speak later.”

“Ciao.”

Just as she pocketed her cell phone and notepad, Steve appeared from beyond the doorway with a somewhat calm, somewhat on-edge smile.

“If you’re here to lecture about me skipping out on training sessions, I--”

“No, that’s not why I’m here,” Steve smiled. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently, and you’re right. The training is fairly pointless for an individual like yourself, which is why I’ve found a sparring partner that might actually be able to keep up with you.”

“The only person who can even measure up to me is Thor-- oh, right, fantastic,” Kat nodded, sucking on her teeth and placing her hands on her hips. “You know, Steve, I never pinned you as the cupid type. Why’s everybody so obsessed with the idea of him and I, anyway?”

“You both deserve a win,” Steve teased, before becoming serious again. “But seriously, I think this could be good for you. You’re good with combat, though you could get even better. Think about it; what happens if Hulk decides to make an appearance, and this time not for the better? We can’t always rely on Thor, considering he has a Kingdom in outer space to run.”

“Alright, Steve, I get it,” Kat silenced him, though nodded with a smile. “You had me persuaded at Thor,” she joked, shooting finger-guns at him. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“I’m counting on it,” he shot back.

Meanwhile, Tabitha seemed persistent in teaching Bucky how her PlayStation worked, and though the assassin may be skilled and knowledgeable of many platforms of technology, he was completely dumbfounded when it came to gaming.

“I just don’t understand how I-- just how do I make it go,” he complained, turning the controller over in his hands incessantly. “And why is this man just walking-- oh, there he goes, off the cliff. Who the Hell is this guy?”

“His name is Sam Drake; and it’s not his fault, you controlled him to walk off!” Tabitha laughed, snatching the controller away from him before he caused the team to lose.

Courtenay’s character, Chloe, came bounding round the corner and a chortle of laughter could be heard from her room as she witnessed Bucky’s failure before Tabitha took control again.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” she said, cracking her neck. Bucky was completed phased out, unable to comprehend the game as Tabitha and Courtenay managed to pick up the win between themselves, even after the rest of the team had left the game considering how confused the Sam on their team appeared to be. “See? It’s not that hard.”

“I don’t understand how you ever had time to practice this stuff,” he grumbled.

“What do you mean?” Tabitha frowned, “we had plenty of free time, you know. When we weren’t on missions… this is what we were doing.”

“Living the life, huh?” Bucky grinned. “But, yeah, video games aren’t for me.”

“I’ll make a gamer out of you, just you wait,” Tabitha insisted.

“Alright. Let’s make a deal,” Bucky offered, to which Tabitha held her hands out, gesturing to appeal to her. “If I play through this whole Uncharted thing, I get something in return.”

“Oh, yeah, like what?” Tabitha mocked.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, though a grin remained stretched on his lips. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Tabitha caught onto his tone and socked his shoulder. “Don’t be so dirty.”

“I actually didn’t say anything. These are your words, not mine,” he grinned, turning to face her.

“Oh, is that right? It didn’t cross your mind for just one second?” Tabitha irked.

Bucky made a noise, telling her that he had, in fact, had his mind stuffed somewhere in the gutter.

“I knew it!” she laughed, leaning back onto her elbows.

“To be fair, you were thinking it too,” Bucky negotiated, collapsing onto his back before turning to look up at her as she propped herself up beside him. “Right?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, hand upon his face, feeling the stubble beneath her palm and fingertips.

“So you were?” He teased, “look, I’m just trying to have my point proven here--”

Tabitha cut off him off with a firm kiss, one that had been well-earned after their days of tension after their first one. She retreated with a smile, smoothing her thumb over his cheekbone as the two lay, breathing quietly, staring at nothing but each other.

At that moment, Tabitha's phone buzzed with a notification. She pulled it out from her back pocket and inspected the screen, seeing a text message from Kat that she’d shot into the group chat of herself, Tabitha and Courtenay.

1 New Message From: Original Three

Kat: don’t want to alarm you guys or anything but thor and i are totally eating chinese food in his room rn !!

Tabitha: no way, really??

Courtenay: see this is why im the greatest friend, i swear. This is all because of me and you better name your first child after me

Tabitha: dibs being the godmother

Courtenay: that’s fine, i wear the pants anyway. Ill make a fuckin fantastic godfather

Kat: he’s currently gorging on prawn crackers so im sneaking a text any chance i get because HOLY SHIT IM SO NERVOUS

Tabitha: chill its just thor!

Kat: that’s the whole point! It's! Just! Thor!!!!!!!

Courtenay: just be yourself and all that jazz, i mean he thinks ur hot when ur fighting and you look pretty sweaty and gross then so. Can’t really mess up now can u

Kat: thanks, very comforting

Tabitha: seriously, though. Just be yourself. Maybe a little nicer because you’re a grumpy little shit but yeah, be yourself.

Courtenay: make a move before he does

Kat: HE JUST SAID HE’S NEVER EATEN IN THE BEDROOM AND I ALMOST LAUGHED BC THAT SOUNDS SEXUAL

Tabitha: that was your chance to make a move, kat. Please tell me you used it to your advantage

Kat tossed her phone aside to avoid detection as Thor, face-full, grinned over at her, seemingly in an even happier mood than he was before.

“I’m really glad that this is happening. You know, you really need to consider your life choices,” Kat laughed, “perhaps when you return to Asgard you should make Chinese food a thing?”

“No, no, I definitely agree,” Thor grinned through a forkful of chow mein noodles. “My friends would enjoy this thoroughly!”

Kat eyed him suspiciously, looking at the metal trays that he had managed to finish. “Is that your fourth tub?”

“Of much more to come,” he winked, taking another bite.

“Where does it all go?” Kat laughed sincerely, her face pink with her fullness and contentment.

Thor flexed his arms. “I cannot let my mortal form grow weak, for there is a lot to sustain.”

She laughed again, leaning her head on her hand. “If anybody from earth said that, I'd think they were insane.”

“Do you not think of me in that way?” Thor asked.

Kat, pressing her lips together to suppress her smile, shook her head. “No.”

“Then what do you think of me?” he asked, his voice noticeably softer this time.

Feeling a surge of confidence, she traced her hand over the pattern on his black shirt. “I think that you are…”

“Yes?” Thor encouraged, eyes sparkling as she lifted her head, dangerously close now.

“I-- I think that--”

Her voice stuttered with the proximity of the two before they suddenly jerked apart in surprise, the door slamming open with an excitable Courtenay bursting in.

“Hey, guys! Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Kat stared at Courtenay with a look of confusion, a surge of desperate annoyance on her face alongside it.

“Oh no… I am. I heard that there was Chinese food, you know, and I just couldn’t resist…” Courtenay edged forwards, taking a small bag of Chinese fries and backing out of the room again. “Again, so sorry…“

Finally, Courtenay left and shut the door behind her. Kat rubbed her forehead, feeling a mix of shame and agitation, though holding it all in and scooping up her laptop that she’d brought in earlier to play music whilst herself and Thor ate their food.

“How about a movie?” She offered.

Thor's expression deadpanned, telling Kat that he was unsure of what they were, too.

“Moving pictures? A bunch of actors and actresses portraying a scenario?” she offered, trying to see if that would lure any understanding out of him.

“Oh, like theatre?”

“Yeah, sort of,” she agreed, realising with relief that she was somewhat getting through to him.

Kat pulled her laptop between them, booting up a movie she thought that the two of them would be interested in. Their lives were exciting enough that plenty of action-movie plots were dull, so she settled with Jurassic Park as she was sure that Thor had never seen dinosaurs before. However, after the battle in new york, and even Sokovia, she wouldn't be surprised as to what hid away up in the galaxy.

Thor wasn’t particularly subtle now that two two had had some time together, and he threw his arm around her shoulder and held her close as they watched the movie intently. Although he was partially confused, he found himself enjoying the moving pictures so much so that he didn’t immediately realise that Kat, exhausted from her full belly, had fallen asleep on his side.

He almost didn’t know what to do, in fear that he would move too abruptly and wake her from her slumber. He shut the laptop and placed it on the floor, lying still on his back. He was hardly tired, though he daresn't move. Instead, he looked down at the practically unconscious figure next to him, wondering where their relationship now stood. It was apparent that the two of them were near kissing until Courtenay interrupted, and he was certainly leaning towards it. He felt a great deal for her; he respected her in battle and in normality, though the two were one in the same for her. It was… odd.

With a smile, he clicked the lamp off by his side and closed his eyes, holding her tighter against him as he, too, fell asleep.

#mcu trio #marvel imagine #bucky x reader #thor x reader

[badcowboy69]

Unexpected part 3

Finished this in a more proper time frame and hopefully it’ll continue onwards this way.  Third part of my ongoing story of Riley’s adventures in New Vegas with Travis.  Part two can be found here Unexpected 2    Sweet and tender fluff this time around...new thoughts and emotions for both fellas.  I actually quite like this one.  It let me get into Riley’s head a bit more.  @zoey-and-dakota hope I did well with that!  Enjoy the lovely chapter under the cut for length.  This one is sfw

Early mornings weren’t Riley’s thing...they never were...even before the war.  However, this particular morning he was wide awake and quite anxious to get the day started.  He was still in mild shock he actually attempted this journey and still couldn't believe he did it, but here he was.  He doesn’t know fully what provoked him to take such an insane gamble by hiring a Vertibird pilot from the Brotherhood of Steel to fly him across the country to find Travis.  It was a very risky move for many reasons.  The unknown was a huge factor, but if Travis could pull it off by driving a motorcycle across the terrain then certainly a Vertibird could fly through the skies.  

Although the travel was a big risk by itself, for Riley to actually find his cowboy lover was another chance with bad odds.  If New Vegas was truly as huge and secure as Travis had described it, Riley might have a difficult, if not impossible, time locating him.  For a stranger to roam around asking for the city’s co-owner might raise suspicions.  There was also the issue that Travis might not even be here anymore.  He did state that when his business with Mister House was over he’d be right back on his motorcycle zooming towards Boston to be with Riley.  

However the biggest worry that had lurked in the back of Riley’s mind was what if Travis didn’t even want him back?  What if the entire separation was a ploy to eliminate Riley from his life in the most painless way possible?  When Travis left Boston over two weeks ago he was obviously devastated.  Unfortunately, Riley knew all too well moments like that had high emotions and feelings could change quickly in separation.  Travis could realize it wasn’t worth the bother coming back to Boston.  Maybe in their separation he realized he didn’t even want to be with the redhead anymore.  Absence does make the heart grow fonder, but it can also make it forgetful.  Maybe Travis was so frazzled from his trip and business undertakings that he truly shoved Riley out of his thoughts.  Seeing him again would be more of a burden than a blessing and it was best to let him go before things became too serious.

Three big risks were taken on this journey out west and all paid off nicely.  Very nicely in fact.  Not only did Riley get to the New Vegas outskirts unscathed, but it was Travis that greeted him at the gates.  Even though the courier had no clue it was Riley in the unexpected craft it was still a relief to see him.  Once Travis realized none of the happenings were a dream it was quite evident that he was thrilled to see him.  From the exclamations of joy, to the tight embrace, to the kisses shoved all paranoid thoughts from Riley’s mind.  Everything Travis did in their reunion proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was way more than overjoyed being reunited with Riley.

After a long night of catching up with amazing sex with his amazing boyfriend, Riley finally slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.  He slept deeply and soundly for the most part, but yet his mind was still buzzing and going a million miles an hour.  Of course he did his typical squirming and kicking, but this time his restlessness was for other reasons.  This was all too exciting and he felt like a child at Christmas and was unable to stay asleep for very long.  

Finally giving in, Riley now found himself lying awake and staring at the ceiling of the Presidential Suite with Travis dozing peacefully against his chest.  Giving a contented sigh, Riley closed his eyes and snuggled down against the pillow.  The black satin sheets on Travis’ queen sized bed felt glorious against his naked skin.  Hell, Travis felt glorious against him for that matter!  Reaching over to the nightstand, Riley blindly groped for his glasses and put them on bringing clarity back to his blurry world.

Blinking a few times allowing his eyes to focus, he gave an impulsive glance to his right in hopes to see the time, but this wasn’t his home back in Diamond City.  For some reason Travis didn’t have a clock next to the bed and lifting his head to look around the room Riley saw he didn’t have one anywhere.  No matter.  Time was not important right now.  Settling against the pillow again, Riley sighed and closed his eyes in contentment.  As eager as he was to look around the large bedroom and take in all of the Mojave splendor Travis no doubt decorated it with, Riley wanted nothing more than to focus on his lover first.

Leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Travis’ head, Riley began to gently smooth Travis’ mussed up hair before sifting his fingers through the soft, black strands.  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he fondly reminisced over their unusual first meeting so many months ago.  Oddly enough it all started with Travis wishing to touch Riley’s hair.  

Riley had seen the newcomer, who was always wearing a cowboy hat, drifting around Diamond City now and then, but never really paid him much mind.  People always came and went through the small town and Riley didn’t have the time nor desire to befriend all of them, if any.  However, the day came when he was approached by the lanky cowboy.  He spoke in a low, shy drawl, but made his bold request quite clear.  He wished to sift his fingers through Riley’s red hair.  At first Riley was taken aback.  Who in their right mind walks up to a complete stranger and asks something like that?

Still, the question intrigued Riley and he agreed and led Travis somewhere more private.  The cowboy went ahead and fingered through Riley’s hair, but before Riley could make any moves himself, he instead got the man’s cowboy hat shoved down on his head.  Looking up he watched in confusion as the man sprinted off.  As he wondered what he might have said or done wrong, Travis returned shortly afterward and apologized.  Apparently he simply wanted to play and be pursued.  

Figuring it was worth a shot, Riley suggested they start over and invited him to his house for a drink.  As both men drank and talked, it eventually became evident that Travis was interested in more than just that.  It didn’t take long for more heavy flirting to happen which led to hot and almost desperate kissing.  Eventually their urges could no longer be held back and they made passionate love on the couch.  Come morning, Riley awoke hearing his front door close.  To his surprise it was Travis returning as opposed to leaving like Riley has grown so used to happen with others.  Travis simply had slipped out into the morning light to seek out breakfast for them.  This was new and right then he realized that Travis was someone special and not a one time fuck.  At least that’s what he dared to hope.

Through the weeks, which eventually turned into months, both men learned a lot about one another.  They had long discussions that would literally last all night and into the wee hours of the morning.  They also explored and tended to things together in the Commonwealth.  Riley enjoyed sharing his world with the westerner and took delight in Travis’ enthusiasm for learning and seeing new things.  Of course they also had the most amazing and mind-blowing sex.  Travis could be quite shy at times, but Riley learned it didn’t take much to encourage, or even fire up the man from the Mojave.  Once enticed, Travis proved to be just as spicy as the peppers he would eat with gusto.

It eventually happened where one was found the other generally wasn’t too far behind.  They were almost inseparable.  That was until the day came when Travis got a letter from his “boss” back home.  He was being forced back immediately to New Vegas for some important business matters.  It was unclear who was crushed more by the news, Travis or Riley.  The remaining few days were dealt with best as possible, but both men were pained.  When the day came for Travis to ride off towards the west on his motorcycle, he placed his coveted cowboy hat on Riley’s head before kissing him good-bye.  The hat was Travis’ forever promise that he would always return to him.  Regardless, a sickening knot formed in the redhead’s stomach as he watched Travis ride off in a trail of dust.  He feared he saw the last of his courier.

Riley still doesn’t know what possessed him to track down Travis out in the uncharted Mojave wastes.  Seeing Vertibirds flying through the Boston sky might have unwittingly sparked the idea.  Having a few more drinks than usual while thoughts of Travis weighed heavily on his mind could have pushed it.  No matter how it was conceived, the journey wasn’t something he thought up overnight.  However, once the idea hit him it was all he could think about.  Seeing Travis again was the main issue, but there was also the bonus of seeing if New Vegas was as fantastic as Travis made it out to be.

Even though Riley was friends with the Brotherhood of Steel, convincing a pilot to do this wasn’t going to be easy.  It was no doubt forbidden and of course labeled as a suicide mission, but he had to try.  It was with extreme luck Riley was able to find a pilot willing to do this and for a few hundred extra caps was able to keep the mission secret.  It took much planning and cap saving and a few times Riley didn’t think it was going to succeed.  Still, it happened and the outcome was more than what he was expecting.  Travis was not only incredibly excited to see him, but the courier also rewarded the Vertibird pilot quite handsomely ensuring future flights back to New Vegas would certainly be guaranteed.  

Now as he lay in content comfort in the Presidential Suite of the Lucky 38 with his dear Travis in his arms, Riley felt an unfamiliar serenity flowing through him.  The feeling was foreign to him, but it was one he had felt centuries earlier at least a few times.  Pushing thoughts about it away for now and letting out a long, blissful sigh, Riley began to once again sift his fingers through Travis’ hair.  It was a true amazing turn of events that began with a random question about hair to where they are now.  Chuckling, Riley shook his head still in mild disbelief that all of this was even possible.  Had he read this kind of story in a book he would have thought the author had a high sense of creativity and imagination.  

Opening his eyes, Riley looked down at the man still dozing on his chest.  He looked so innocent and peaceful, but even Riley knew better than that.  Travis could be a handful at times.  He was extremely playful and full of energy and sometimes rather curious.  Those traits, however, were mild compared to the wicked glee the courier has in setting things on fire or blowing them up.  Riley could only hope that such a dangerous hobby wouldn’t literally blow up in his face.  

Almost as if knowing disapproving images were being thought of him, Travis squirmed and mumbled something unintelligible under his breath while his hand glided absently over Riley’s chest.  The courier flinched and mumbled again before snuggling against his partner.  Once Travis settled down, Riley continued stroking the man’s hair.  It would figure that the first time in ages for Riley to actually be awake before him, Travis was dead asleep.

Pushing the hair back on Travis’ brow, Riley took a moment to look at the barely visible scar over his right eyebrow.  Had Travis never mentioned anything Riley might not have ever noticed it.  Travis claimed it was much fainter than when he first got it over six years ago.  Although it would eventually vanish from sight the scar would always be there.  It would be a permanent reminder of Travis being shot in the head simply for doing his job.  Riley frowned and tenderly rubbed his thumb over the fading mark.  Why did people have to be so cruel?  He sighed sadly and attempted to push the horrible thoughts of cruelty that was dealt to him in his own past out of his mind.  

As Riley’s fingers absently traced over Travis’ ears, the courier slowly began to rejoin the waking world.  Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he twitched his moustache and inhaled deeply while tightening his hold on Riley.  Furrowing his brow he lifted his head and turned to look up while feeling a pleasant warmth go through him as he stared fondly into his lover’s eyes.  “Look who’s up early for a change,” he jested while pulling himself up to press his lips against Riley’s in a slow, tender kiss.  “Are you hungry?”

Riley arched an eyebrow and laughed over the sudden and random question.  “Somewhat.  I take it you are?”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, but instead of leaping out of bed and scurrying off to the kitchen as Riley expected him to, Travis settled back down against him and nuzzled against Riley’s neck.  “Last night was amazing,” he breathed against the freckled skin.  “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t either,” Riley replied sighing wistfully while gliding his fingertips lightly back and forth over Travis’ arm.  “I’ve done a lot of impetuous things in my days, but this…” he trailed off with a soft chuckle.  

While stroking Riley’s beard, Travis gave his cheek a delicate kiss and let out a sigh of contentment.  “Glad you did.  Now then...about breakfast!”

“Fine, fine!” Riley laughed, squeezing his man against him.  “Go cook before you starve to death and before I get other ideas on how to start this morning.”

Travis gave a lascivious smile and brushed his moustache against Riley’s lips.  “Sounds good to me, but I’ll hold you to sharing those iders later.”   Giving Riley a kiss that slowly deepened, Travis suddenly pulled back right as he felt Riley’s arms tightening around him.  “Go wash up.  I got breakfast to make,” he smirked while squirming out of Riley’s hold and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to search for his boxers.

“You’re such a tease,” Riley whined and playfully gave Travis a nudge with his foot almost sending the courier off the bed.  Sitting up to search for his own undergarments Riley asked, “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Thought we’d get that tour of Mormon Fort.  Maybe check out the Atomic Wrangler or stop by and see the Kings.  Don’t matter none to me.  I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.  Tonight we can have a good dinner, go for a swim, see a show, gamble.  Hell, Riles, there’s tons of stuff to do.  I can even show you around all day here if you want.  I know how much you liked the elevator.  We can start there if you want.”

“Very funny,” Riley dryly replied while standing and stretching.  He was stopped mid-yawn as he felt Travis suddenly embrace him and nuzzle against his neck.  Wrapping his arms around him to return the hug, Riley rested his chin on top of Travis’ head and gave a blissful hum of approval.  “It’s so intoxicating to be holding you again.”

Travis pulled back and looked up at him with half-closed eyes as the corners of his mouth lifted into a lazy grin.  “You cain’t imagine how happy I am right now.” “I have a pretty good idea,” the redhead replied simply as he bowed his head down to place a tender kiss on his cowboy’s lips.  Reaching up between them Riley began stroking the black hairs on Travis’ chin, smoothing them, before giving him another lingering kiss.

Gliding his hands over Riley’s bare back and into his hair, Travis smirked and purred, “Best be getting a move on, pard, or I might just be servin’ ya sausage in bed for breakfast.” “As tempting as that suggestion is, I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn it down at this moment,” Riley hesitantly replied while stifling the groan that was forming in his throat.  “I’m sure getting water all the way up here isn’t going to be easy and is going to take me a while.  Unless of course you have a spa or something downstairs.” Travis furrowed his brow and shook his head while pulling from Riley’s embrace.  “Naw.  Bathroom’s down the hall on the right.  Go wash up, got plenty of time to do whatever you wanna do and then some.  I’ll be in the kitchen fixing up some good belly-fillin’ grub.”  Travis gave a wink then shuffled out of the room while yawning and scratching his head.  

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, Travis changed direction and went to the elevator instead and pushed the button on the intercom.  There was a pause of static then Eli’s voice was heard.  “Mornin’, mister!  How’s things going with you and your man?”

Travis felt a wash of warmth surge through him and he looked shyly over his shoulder watching as Riley made his way down the hall towards the bathroom.  “Right as rain, Eli, thanks.  Listen, when you get the chance, send ED-E and Rex upstairs.” “Sure thing, pardner.  Y’all have a great day, ya hear?”

Clicking off the intercom, Travis continued towards the kitchen and began to set up the coffee pot.  A smile curled his lips as the strong, pleasant scent of the beverage began to fill the air while it brewed.  Opening the refrigerator, Travis’ shoulders slumped at how barren it is compared to normal.  He wasn’t expecting a guest after all.  However, he was a cowboy and a survivalist and knew he’d be able to whip up a good and hearty meal for the two of them with what meager supplies he has.  Grabbing a Brahmin steak, two gecko eggs, potatoes, onions, and a few other ingredients, Travis set up the counter in preparation to make one of his infamous omelettes.  

Riley, on the other hand, was standing perplexed in the rather large bathroom of the Presidential Suite.  To his left was a desk and a small table covered with neatly stacked papers and medical books.  The large bookcase next to it was stocked with unbelievable amounts of medicines, stimpacks, braces, and other healing items on a few of its shelves.  One shelf was dedicated to towels, shavers, and a little bowl filled with a variety of soaps.  On the bottom few shelves were large metal pots, cleaning supplies and a clothes iron.  

Grunting in approval, Riley continued further into the room.  For some reason the two toilet and bathing areas were separated by a long curtain.  It was an unusual set-up to say the least and possibly the designers cut corners by not installing a proper wall.  Looking around, Riley smiled seeing the entire room was decorated nicely with old pre-war advertisements for Nuka Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla, and Giddyup Buttercup.  Random toys were on a small stand with a radio and more books were on the end tables next to the toilets.  Empty beer bottles were also on the tables making Riley chuckle.  Travis wasn’t as anal of a neat-freak as one might assume.  Picking up one of the books, which was a science fiction novel, Riley flipped through it and was surprised seeing how perfect the pages were with no tears or creases.  Setting the book down he made a mental note to definitely read it while he bathes.

Speaking of bathing, he thought and began looking around wondering where the bucket of water was he would need to wash up in.  Not seeing one he was about to call out to Travis when he noticed a shaver and scissors sitting on one of the sinks.  A fluffy cream colored hand towel was draped over the faucet and when Riley touched it he pulled his hand back in mild surprise that it was wet.  Taking a chance he turned the knob and after a few hisses and spits of air, water came pouring out.  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he gasped, not expecting running water.  Shutting off the faucet he leaned over the bathtub and repeated the action.  As like the sink, water rushed out with a good surge.  Riley vaguely remembered Travis talking about baths and showers in New Vegas, but he never realized functioning indoor plumbing is what he meant.

Feeling rather giddy with these discoveries, Riley next pressed down on the handle of the toilet making it flush.  He watched with child-like fascination as the water whirled down and refilled the bowl.  Flushing it again, Riley moved on knowing he had to get washed before Travis began wondering what happened to him.  He was already teased about his amazement with the elevator.  The last thing he wanted was to be teased about the bathroom.  He could just hear Travis saying, “Gosh, Riles, you got a kink for the bathroom now?  Maybe we can start fucking in here!  It’’ll make clean-up a whole lot easier.”

Smirking to himself, Riley returned to the sink and rinsed out the little towel while lathering it up with a bar of soap.  Gritting his teeth from the combination of tepid water and cold air coming from the vent on the wall, Riley finally began to wash.  Once he got used to the chill he wondered how Travis managed to enjoy taking a bath.  There wasn’t anywhere for a fire or any sort of electrical element to warm the water.  It was then a realization hit him and he wondered if there was still one more modest secret to be discovered here in Travis’ unbelievable bathroom.  Daring to not even dream it might be possible, Riley shut the cold water off and twisted the knob for hot instead.  

He remembered from the past one had to wait a few moments for hot water to come through.  With the suite being so high up in the casino the hot water could take a bit longer to get there, that is if hot water even existed.  After a moment Riley put his finger under the water, biting his lower lip in anticipation.  However, it was no surprise to him that the water was still coming out just as tepid.  Sighing in mild disappointment he reached for the knob when he noticed a small curl of steam rising from the basin.  It vanished quickly, but he still spotted it.  Gingerly putting his finger back under the water, Riley gasped loudly feeling the pleasantly hot water wash over his skin.

He cursed himself for not trying the knob sooner, but he never would have imagined it possible.  Then again, if this place had air conditioning why wouldn’t it have hot running water?  Squeezing the cloth out, Riley resoaked it and glided it over his face and neck, enjoying the comforting warmth it provided.  His blue eyes glanced at the tub and he knew what he planned to enjoy later tonight when Travis got done showing him Mormon Fort.  Grabbing a fresh towel off the shelf, he dried himself off and began to make his way towards the kitchen.  

As Riley passed the elevator he was startled as the bell suddenly dinged indicating someone has arrived.  The doors slid open and ED-E flew out beeping rapidly before zooming down the hall towards the guest room.  Rex bounded out, spotted Riley and gave a happy bark as he jumped up on him demanding to be pet.  “Well, good morning to you too, boy,” Riley laughed as he ruffled the fur on Rex’s neck.  “Come on, let’s go see what Travis is cooking!”

Rex gave a few excited barks as he pushed away from him then bolted into the kitchen.  Riley followed and casually leaned against the doorframe while crossing his arms in front of his chest.  He watched in admiration as Travis scuttled back and forth tending to the sizzling pan of food, setting the table, fussing with the coffee pot, then back to the food again.  He knew how much Travis loves to cook and seeing him at home in his element was a pleasure to behold.  Pushing away from the door, Riley stepped into the vast kitchen and dining area.

As he was looking over the grand dining table with its seating for about twelve people, Travis caught his eye.  The courier was grinning broadly holding a hot cup of coffee.  “Hope you’re hungry,” he beamed, passing the cup to Riley.  “Sugared it for you just how you like it.”

“Thank you and yes, I’m rather hungry,” Riley replied before taking a careful sip of the coffee.  “By the way, yet again you held out on me, Travis.  The running water was amazing enough, but hot water?  All those months you were in Boston with me never once did you complain about the lack of such commodities.”

Travis shrugged as he motioned for Riley to take a seat.  “Ain’t no use in squawking about something that can’t be helped.  Y’all make due with what’s there.  Who am I to come and complain?  I was roughing it way before I got all this dropped in my lap.  Hell, I still rough it just the same when I travel around so Boston wasn’t much different.  Hell, ya don’t adapt, ya don’t survive is how I see it.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Riley said with admiration as he took a seat at the table.  Thinking back to the time spent in Boston it was true that never once did the courier complain about anything other than the occasional dirty or lack of sheets on beds.  He took everything Boston threw at him with a smile and barely indicated how contrastingly different things were there compared to New Vegas.  All of Travis’ vague ramblings about luxuries in New Vegas were always overshadowed by his talks about his adventures and life in general.  When he did mention things it was never bragging nor said in ways to make anyone doing without feel bad or awkward.

“Dig in!”  Travis exclaimed as he set a steaming plate of food down on the table bringing Riley out of his thoughts.  “I’ll help get you set up with your unpacking after we eat then we’ll head out to the Fort if you wanna.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” he replied as he fixed his gaze on his partner who was happily playing with his cyberdog before getting himself a serving of food.  Turning his attention to the dish in front of him, Riley began to poke at the fluffy yellow omelette with his fork.  “So,” he began.  “What’s all in this glorious concoction of yours?”

Sitting heavily on the chair next to him, Travis shrugged and said almost too casually, “Brahmin steak, potatoes and onions.  Topped it all off with some shredded bighorner milk cheese, salt, pepper, and a wedge of tomato.  Was gonna put jalapenos in ‘em, but I know you ain’t a fan.”  Shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth, Travis turned to Riley with an arched eyebrow seeing he wasn’t eating.  “Somefin wrong wiff it?”

“No, not at all.  I’m simply amazed you have such a variety of fresh food,” Riley replied as he took a bite and suddenly found himself overwhelmed by the vast array of flavors.  “Holy shit, Travis, this is fantastic!”

The courier chuckled and took a sip of his coffee.  Grimacing, he poured more sugar into it and gave Riley a proud smile.  “Glad you like it, but breakfast really ain’t my speciality.  I’ll make grilled steaks with baked taters and a salad later tonight if you want.  Hell, maybe I’ll even make a mutfruit pie for dessert!” “It’s a wonder why you’re not as big as a Super Mutant if this is how you normally eat,” Riley chuckled with a shake of his head.  Travis gave Riley a playful nudge, scooped the last of the omelette in his mouth and stood to take the dish to the sink.  “I see your insanely rapid eating habits aren’t just something you did in Boston,” Riley continued.

“Ain’t got time to waste eating slow now,” he replied eagerly as he refilled his coffee mug.  “Got me a few morning tasks to take care of myself before we mosey outta here.  Gotta get you unpacked too unless...you’re...plannin’ on leaving some time soon.”  Travis said the last part almost in defeat and toed at the carpet.  As much as he hoped Riley was here for more than a few days he knew not to get high expectations.  

Fixing his gaze on the remainder of his food, Riley responded softly.  “No.  No, I’m not leaving anytime soon unless you need me to go.  I know my coming here wasn’t exactly in your plans.  I’m sure running this place probably has a lot of responsibility and I don’t want to get in your way.  You already got in mild trouble once because of me.  I don’t want to see you lose your status around here.”

Travis grunted in annoyance and in a few quick strides he was back at Riley’s side.  Flipping a chair backwards, Travis straddled it like a horse and put his hand on Riley’s shoulder.  “This place did just fine without me all those months I was with you in Boston.  Ain’t nobody here gonna dictate how long you’re gonna stay other than you.  Ain’t nothing gonna keep me from you ever again unless you will it.  You can stay here as long as you wanna, but the deal is I gotta go back with you when you leave.”  Riley looked up at him and held his gaze as if searching for some kind of jest with those words, but it was evident Travis was dead serious.  “I mean it, Riley.  These past two weeks was torture for me and I came to reckoning on a lot.  Ain’t gonna happen no more.  I ain’t gonna allow us to be apart unless that’s what you want.  We probably got lots of shit to figure out eventually, but right now you’re here and you’re gonna be showed the time of your life.”

Riley continued to stare into Travis’ crystal blue eyes both surprised and flattered to hear the courier’s compliments.  He knew how much Travis liked him and enjoyed his company, but this...he wasn’t expecting this.  Riley then diverted his gaze to a spot on the floor and began to chew at his bottom lip.  He was totally at a loss for words even though his mind was screaming at him to say something.  Anything!  Taking a slow breath Riley lifted his eyes and mustered up a nervous smile.  “I’m...I’m really glad to hear you say that, Travis.  I...I feel the same way.”  

Travis returned the smile and did his best to contain his excitement hearing Riley’s demure response.  During their two week separation Travis had come to realize that he not only loves, but is in love with Riley.  His heart breaking from having to leave Riley justified those feelings he felt he might have.  One wouldn’t be so miserable and heartbroken if love wasn’t involved.  Travis wanted so badly to stand, gather Riley into a tight embrace and kiss his freckled neck and face all while declaring his love over and over.  However, these wonderful feelings were still all technically new to Travis.  Granted he had someone in his life before he had met Riley, but those feelings were nothing like this.  The last thing Travis wanted now was to say something too soon and have it ruin things.  Deep down he knew Riley had to feel the same way.  He had to.  One simply doesn’t randomly get into a Vertibird and fly thousands of miles to find someone on a whim.  You did that either for love or revenge and Riley certainly wasn’t after the latter for any reason.

Still, as small and as insignificant as it might seem, their exchanged words spoke volumes and if nothing else reassured each man how they felt about each other.  Travis knew he would tell Riley his full feelings one day soon and no doubt say those three small, but very powerful words to him as well, but for now he was content.  After giving Riley’s shoulder a squeeze, Travis trailed his hand up into the man’s red hair.  Leaning forward he gave him a tender kiss before standing.  “I’m really looking forward to sharing my world with you.”

Feeling a flush of warmth go through him, Riley smiled to himself and finished the remainder of his breakfast.  “I look forward to it, Travis.  I can’t wait to see and do everything even if you truly want to take me for a ride up and down your elevator all day.  I already have very good memories tied into that as it is.  We can always...enhance them.”

Travis swallowed hard hearing that as he took Riley’s dish to the sink.  “Y-yes we can.  Got lots of other places we can make those kinda memories in though.  Like you said we got two weeks of fucking to catch up on.”  He turned to look at his partner and felt a shudder surge down his spine at the recollection of what they did in the elevator last night as well as everything else afterwards.  “Ahhh...anyways, let’s get you unpacked.  The faster we get things situated in here the faster we can head out.  I’d like to get to the Fort before lunch and it gets too busy there.  We won’t be able to socialize with a few of the people I want you to meet if that’s the case.”

“Sounds perfect to me, Travis.”

“Great!” Travis exclaimed, barely able to contain the excitement in his voice this time.  “C’mon, Rex, let’s get ready to go bye-bye!” he called to his cyberdog and the pair bolted out of the room leaving Riley behind, amused at Travis’ sudden surge of energy.

As Riley slowly followed Travis to the bedroom he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.  He was still thinking about what Travis had exclaimed about not wanting to be apart from him ever again.  He did wonder what shit needed figuring out that Travis mentioned, but for now Riley took things as they were.  He had his own shit that needed figuring out as well.  One thing for sure, taking the bold and very risky trip to New Vegas proved to be well worth all the fears and anxieties that came with it.  Although he didn’t want to admit it just yet, the odds were certainly in his favor in regards to having someone in his life who would always be with him.

To be continued....

#travis blackfox #riley #i think i really like this one a lot #the boys can certainly have a lot of adventures in new vegas #lots more chapters ahead i'm sure #this is fun #long post #writings

[welllpthisishappening]

You Play Ball Like a Girl (36/?)

“How exactly are you going to fit an entire family in here, Swan?” Killian asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Move the coffee table, put a real table there, push the couch as far back against the wall as humanly possible.” “Of course.” “It’s a tried and true system,” Mary Margaret added, without looking up from the vegetables she was cutting. “We’re well practiced.”

Living it up on Ao3 and Tumblr and we might actually wrap this up at 50. MAYBE! It’s so long. 

“There’s bagels by the toaster,” Mary Margaret said, not even bothering to keep her voice down and practically scaring Emma out of her skin.

She should be used to this by now.

She’d been doing it for nearly two weeks – staying with Killian all night before rushing out of the apartment an hour earlier than she normally would have woken up and walking the five blocks back to her own walk-up so she could shower and put on work-appropriate clothes.

Emma never showered there.

It was like some kind of unspoken rule. Or her unspoken rule. Killian, for his part, always looked slightly annoyed when she left, groaning whenever Emma’s alarm went off. He did his best to get her to stay, to actually bring clothes with her, arguments of You’re adding a whole other step to your routine, Swan were the norm now.

And she never did it.

It was driving him insane. It was driving Mary Margaret insane too.

Emma walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes as she continued to try and wake up. The five-block walk in mid-November New York hadn’t done much except practically freeze her to death.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, glancing up towards an already-ready Mary Margaret, standing in the kitchen with her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. “I’m going to shower before I eat. Maybe that’ll wake me up.” “You know, if you shower at his apartment, you might wake up easier. And get an extra hour of sleep,” Mary Margaret said pointedly, taking a sip of coffee.

“You sound like Killian.”

“And what do you sound like?”

“Someone who has been trying very hard to avoid this conversation for two weeks.” “Why? “I’ve got to shower, M’s,” Emma whined. Mary Margaret made a face and she knew she wasn’t getting out of this without giving up some kind of answer.

Emma groaned, accepting the mug of hot chocolate Mary Margaret handed her. “It seems an awful lot like putting down roots,” Emma said slowly. “And I am in, really I am, all caught up and properly committed and everything, but this? The whole drawer at your boyfriend’s absurdly fancy lower Manhattan apartment is entirely uncharted territory for me.” “You tell him that?”

“No,” Emma admitted and Mary Margaret groaned at her.

“You tell him you love him yet either?” “I would tell you if that happened M’s.” “I don’t think you’d be telling him anything he doesn’t already know,” Mary Margaret continued. “And I don’t think he’d be far behind either. He looks at you like you hung the moon, Emma.”

She was right. Emma knew she was right. And she knew she should tell Killian. About both things. But she was frozen in her kitchen, hot chocolate going cold in her hands.

“I’ll tell him about the drawer,” Emma conceded. “And maybe I’ll stay this weekend. I’ve got a game on Friday and he doesn’t have any meetings. We don’t have to be there early.”

“You never have to be there early,” Mary Margaret pointed out, raising her eyebrows accusingly. “You’re the one who leaves at 8 o’clock every time. Even on the weekends. Like now. When you don’t have to.”

“I have a game later.”

Emma’s technical job title was “general assignment reporter,” but she had kind of fallen into college basketball over the last week or so, prepping for the season after Walsh had been pushed out of the job.

She had to be at the Garden later that night for a preseason tournament and Emma was exhausted. It really would have been easier if she had just slept longer.

But that meant a drawer and that meant roots and while she was doing her best not to automatically run, Emma was also a little nervous.

“He’s probably nervous too, you know,” Mary Margaret said. “You’re not the only one with some very obvious emotional baggage.” “How do you know that?”

“I have eyes, Emma. And he’s worn short sleeves in front of me.”

Emma sighed and scrunched her nose slightly. She certainly wasn’t jealous of the past, but since that past had unceremoniously reappeared on her boyfriend’s doorstep two and a half weeks ago, she was concerned slightly. She hadn’t told Mary Margaret that either.

Emma was a veritable vault of secrets.

“I know you do,” Emma muttered, taking a sip of lukewarm hot chocolate. “And you’re not wrong. But that’s part of the problem.” “I don’t understand.” “I don’t want to worry him. Again. I fucked up a lot before M’s and fucked him up a lot and I don’t want him to think that I’m not sure.”

Mary Margaret clicked her tongue reproachfully for Emma’s pair of swear words before shaking her head in disbelief. “He’s not going to run away. He’d wait for you for anything, all your emotional hangups. Just tell him. He’s going to understand.” “You seem awfully sure.” “I am.” “How?” “Because that’s what he told me.”

It was far too early for this. Emma just wanted to shower. And maybe go back to sleep. “When?” “When we talked before. In September. That’s what he told me when I said to back off a bit. That he’d wait.”

Jeez.

“Talk to him,” Mary Margaret continued. “Tell him what you’re thinking. He’ll listen and he’ll understand and you two can, finally, get some sleep.”

Emma laughed, smiling at her friend. “How do you put up with me?” “I’m not putting up with anything. You’re so happy, Emma. All the time. And I wasn’t lying, he looks at you like...I don’t even know. But this is big and it’s important and it’s so, so good. Even David thinks so.”

“Did you rehearse that speech?” Emma asked, hiding her initial emotional response with sarcasm. Mary Margaret saw right through it.

“Go shower,” Mary Margaret commanded, pointing down the hallway. “And then talk to your boyfriend at some point. And tell him you love him.”

Emma shook her head, but she was smiling as she walked down the hallway.

“You’re late,” he muttered, arms crossed and leaning against the wall outside the studio door.

“I’m not!” Emma objected, staring down at her phone. She wasn’t. She was almost late. She wasn’t actually late. “And anyway,” she added, “Isaac isn’t even here yet. That door is still very much closed.” “The principal of the thing, love,” Killian said, uncrossing his arms and taking a few steps towards her. He reached out quickly, grabbing her hand, wrapping his fingers around her.

They were in a very empty hallway and they’d only been able to see each other in the confines of The New York Record office for the last few days.

She hadn’t talked to him. Mary Margaret was vocally disappointed.

“Hey,” he muttered, tugging on her hand. Emma widened her eyes at him, eyes scanning the hallway quickly.

“Hey back.” Killian leaned forward slightly and Emma tilted her head back just as quickly, earning a very frustrated groan from him. “C’mon,” she muttered. “Isaac could be here any second.” “Don’t care,” he mumbled, pulling her back towards him before Emma could object and kissing her just behind the ear.

“We have talked about this,” Emma groaned.

“Yuh huh.”

“Killian,” she whined.

“I haven’t kissed you in days, Swan. Actual days. That’s not even an exaggeration.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I do and I don’t like that any more than you do, but we decided. Quiet. No making out at work. Certainly no making out in the middle of the hallway.” “Fine,” he agreed, sounding like he’d just been called out at the plate after arguing a strike for several minutes. “But as soon as we are out of here, Swan, I’m going to spend several minutes kissing you.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” “About kissing?” “In the kissing family.” “Go on.”

Emma nodded once, like she was trying to build up a bit of courage. Killian didn’t say anything else, a small smile on his lips and his eyes wide.

He was waiting for her.

“I was thinking about coming over later,” she said. He smiled wider.

“I’d like that.” “And I was thinking about...staying.” “You do that regularly.”

“Like in the morning,” Emma said, only stumbling a bit over the words. “Staying in the morning. With clothes. And maybe some type of shower. You do have a shower, right?” “I have a shower.”

He was openly smirking at her now, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rolled back slightly on his heels. It wasn’t fair at all. She wanted to kiss him in the middle of the hallway too and that smile wasn’t doing anything to stop her.

“Good to know,” Emma said softly. “So, those were my thoughts.”

“Seemed like good thoughts.”

“I don’t want to leave early anymore.” “I never wanted you to leave in the first place.” It felt like a much bigger statement than just one sentence and Emma pushed her heels into the floor, reciting all the reasons she couldn’t kiss him.

The top reason came around the corner a few seconds later.

“There’s our dynamic duo,” Isaac bellowed, walking towards them with a smile on his face. Killian made a face at Emma and she bit back her laugh, taking a step away from him and putting some very professional distance between them. “You two ready to talk a little college basketball?” Isaac continued, totally oblivious to the fact that his sports editor and general assignment reporter were only a few seconds away from practically attacking each other in the hallway.

“Sure,” Emma said, trying to keep her voice straight. Killian smirked.

“Absolutely,” he added.

Isaac nodded enthusiastically, yanking open the studio door and ushering them inside. Emma followed closely behind and nearly gasped when she felt a hand graze against her back. She didn’t look back, just straightened her spine and kept her eyes trained forward on the set they had built for their regularly scheduled video clips.

He knew what he was doing. Killian’s palm was flat on her back now, hidden completely from Isaac’s gaze and Emma bit her lip, determined not to lean back into his touch.

“The numbers are still good even for these middle-of-the season, or well, start of the season videos,” Isaac said. Killian’s hand dropped away from Emma’s back like he had been shocked as the editor turned to face them. “So as long as you guys are still up for this, Sydney and I are both certain it’ll continue to draw hits. And right now we’re all very excited about expanding our website coverage. People are coming to the site for your videos.” “Really?” Emma asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Absolutely. Sydney showed me the search engine metrics the other day and, even the last couple of videos, the season previews and stuff? People are searching for them. They’re coming to the site through other engines. We don’t have anything else like that. No one in the city does.”

Emma made a face, glancing towards Killian who was smiling at her with so much obvious adoration that she couldn’t understand how Isaac didn’t know what was going on his sports floor.

Or, anywhere but his sports floor.

“We’re apparently very knowledgeable Swan,” he said, sinking into the chair and adjusting his microphone.

“Guess so,” Emma answered, standing to the side as a tech outfitted her with her own mic, clipping the cord on the front lapel of her blazer.

“You’re building quite a reputation,” Isaac added, stepping away from the makeshift set as Emma sat down next to Killian. She glanced at him again and he rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling at her.

“Ready whenever you guys are,” said a voice behind the camera and they both settled into their chairs, introducing themselves with practiced ease.

Forty-five minutes later they had finished filming – much to the very over-excited delight of Isaac, who was practically bursting at the seams with proclamations of numbers and hits and Google searches .

Emma didn’t care. She just wanted to make sure this video was perfect. If Milah had been right and Killian had been right and Gold wasn’t just trying to buy The Record , but was picking it up sold, then this video had to be perfect.

Even Gold couldn’t deny numbers. Or Killian. Or how good he was at what he did.

At least that’s what Emma was rationalizing.

She grabbed her phone out of her bag, leaning up against the wall of the small studio and flipped the volume back on. It beeped for 30 seconds straight.

“What is that thing doing, Swan?” Killian asked, stepping into her space, far closer than any sort of professional decorum would allow. She glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at him, clicking the voicemail icon and holding her phone up to her ear.

Anna had left three messages.

“Emma! Emma! You need to call me. You should have called after the first voicemail, but you’re probably busy or something. This is so, so important though. Like so important. Call me.”

Emma made a face at her phone, pulling it away to hit the call button underneath her now-listened to voicemail. Killian raised his eyebrows in question and Emma waved her hand at him. He scowled at her.

“Emma?” Anna’s voice yelled across the phone. “I can hear you Anna, there’s no need to yell.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sorry. I’ve just got news.” “So I’ve heard. What’s going on?” “Eric heard back from the DOE.”

Emma’s stomach dropped. They’d been waiting for this for weeks. Eric was as good as his word, calling the DOE within hours of Emma giving the ok, but he’d hit a metaphorical brick wall for several days, unable to get past Cruella.

Then, the week before, Zelena had, inexplicably called him back.

Anna said they talked for hours, but wasn’t sure what was going to happen after that. This was the after .

“And?” Emma prompted, suddenly nervous to hear the answer. She heard Killian move behind her and felt his hand on her back again. She leaned into it this time.

“And they’re going to reopen the appeal.”

“What?!”

“Seriously,” Anna said, her voice filled with excitement. “Eric talked to Zelena for hours. Yelled at her for hours.” I did not , Emma heard in the background. Forceful and yelling are two very different things . Emma laughed slightly, turning towards Killian. “He yelled a little bit,” Anna continued. “But it worked. He got the message from Cruella today. And boy was she upset.” “I can imagine,” Emma said.

“Well she can be mad if she wants. They’re going to open the appeal again and Cruella told Eric that they’re being forced to bring in another investigator.” “How did that happen?” “City Hall stepped in.” “City Hall?!” Emma’s head was spinning. She wasn’t expecting this to get political .

“Apparently the deputy mayor’s son is a Beacon alum.” “Jeez.” “There’s more,” Anna added.

“How could there possibly be more?”

“Eric thinks we’re going to win.” Emma reached out quickly, gripping Killian’s forearm so she would stay standing up. We’re going to win . He stared at her questioningly and Emma shook her head quickly, returning her focus to Anna.

“He’s sure?” “As sure as he possibly can be.” “Is he around?” Emma asked. “You think I can talk to him?” “Sure.” Emma heard a few mumbled words as Anna handed the phone over to her boss and Killian ran his hand up and down her back. “Hello?” “Eric?” Emma asked. “Hey, this is Emma Swan. I just wanted to thank you. For everything you’ve done over the last couple of weeks. And yelling at Zelena.”

“I promise Ms. Swan, I didn’t yell. Anna exaggerated just a bit. I did, however, point out that there was precedent that the DOE was ignoring and hit on some of the things you brought up in your article. Trust me, you did all the work.” “I didn’t get Zelena to listen to me.” “No, but you opened the floodgates as it were. I wouldn’t have done anything if I hadn’t seen your story, even with Ariel talking about Henry.”

“Thank you,” she said again, meaning it completely.

“This is why they pay me the absolute minimum possible,” he laughed. “I’m here to help.” “You really think we can win?” Emma asked. “Nothing’s ever guaranteed Ms. Swan, but like Anna said, I’m about as confident as I can be. You’re right. Everything you wrote was right. They can’t ignore that. Especially if City Hall starts getting involved as well.” “Henry just deserves a shot.” “He absolutely does. And this is going to help with that. We should have official word in a few weeks. I’d say middle of December by the latest.” “That quick?”

“When you’re right, it doesn’t take long to figure it out.”

Emma smiled, leaning forward so her head was resting on Killian’s shoulder. He was flat-out hugging her now. “Thank you again,” Emma said.

“No need. I’m sure Anna will let you know when we hear anything.”

He hung up the phone before Emma could thank him again and she exhaled against Killian’s suit jacket. “Alright there, love?” he asked, mostly to the top of her head.

“Better.” “That was Anna?” “And Eric,” she answered, lifting her head up to look at him. She couldn’t stop smiling. “They’re reopening the appeal.” “Seriously?” “Seriously.”

He kissed her.

The studio was abandoned – Isaac had left in the middle of filming to go deal with some sort of circulation issue – and it didn’t take long for the techs to disappear after Emma and Killian had returned their microphones.

Emma pulled on the collar of his blazer, pulling him towards her and he didn’t put up much of a fight. God . She had missed that. Several days of not kissing and Emma had all but lost her mind.

Mary Margaret was right. There was no reason not to put down roots. Emma wasn’t convinced she already hadn’t.

“Hey,” she mumbled, pulling away slightly and Killian chased after her, moving his mouth back towards Emma’s lips, so close his nose brushed against hers. “Listen, listen to me.” “I’m listening Swan.” “And breaking rules.” “I would apologize if I was sorry, but I can’t say that I am.” “Listen,” she said sternly and he made a face, but stood at attention in front of her. “Eric said they’re bringing in a new investigator. Someone without any ties to Henry or Zelena or Walsh. It’s a brand-new slate.” “He’s going to play again.” “That’s what Eric and Anna were saying.” “You don’t sound so sure.” “No, I am,” Emma argued. “I don’t see how someone could look at that appeal and not let him play. I just...I don’t want to let him down.”

“Not possible.”

“Misplaced faith,” she groaned.

“Appropriately placed faith. From both me and Henry. And everyone else who has read your stories.”

Emma shook her head and leaned forward to kiss him quickly before pulling away. “Thank you,” she said again.

“That’s not anything to thank me for.”

“Of course it is. You...you’re so good at that.” “At what?”

“The positivity.”

“No,” Killian objected. “Just you, Swan. I believe in you. Without question. And I’ve never once doubted that you were going to get Henry back on the field.”

I love you .

She needed to say it. She just needed to find the right moment.

“We might win,” she said instead, falling back into work with determination. “ You’re going to win.”

“Hey, this is you too. You’ve earned yourself some idol-status with this whole thing.” “Look who’s got the misplaced faith now.”

Emma sighed and shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you still want to kiss me.” “Something like that,” she said evasively, drawing her finger across his collarbone where the collar of his shirt was open.

Killian widened his eyes and Emma noticed he was biting his lip. “Swan,” he said threateningly.

“What?” “Later. I promise. But if you keep doing that this is not going to end well.”

Emma smiled at him, pulling her hand away and crossing both of them behind her back. “You think we can stop back by my apartment first? So I can get some clothes before we go home?”

The words were out of her mouth before she even realized and she felt her mouth drop slightly as she took in Killian’s face. He was making an effort to stay neutral – an attempt Emma appreciated – but she could see the emotion in his absurdly blue eyes.

“Sure,” he said, nodding slowly. “Grab a couple of things and then you won’t have to worry about it from now on.” “Ok.” Killian leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek quickly, brushing his hand over her cheek. “Hey, I have a question,” she continued.

“Shoot.”

“What are you doing on Thanksgiving?” If she thought he had been surprised before it was nothing to the stunned look on his face now. Emma enjoyed that for a moment. She could be spontaneous. Mary Margaret would probably faint.

“What are you asking?” “That’s not an answer.” “What are you suggesting?”

“That you come to my apartment on Thanksgiving,” she said, trying to keep her nerve. “M’s has perfected cooking a turkey and we wake up early and watch the parade and it’s a whole thing. Everyone comes down too.” “Everyone?” “You know, Ingrid, El. David’s mom. I think M’s dad is actually coming this year. Cora wants to stay in Storybrooke since Regina just got married and is doing her own dinner, but Mr. Blanchard wants to see his daughter.” “And you want me to come?”

Emma didn’t miss the nervous edge in his voice or the way his hand gripped her blazer just a bit tighter than usual.

“Of course,” she nodded. And she did.

“Then I’ll be there.” “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Emma nodded again, like she was trying to convince herself that he was real. “Good,” she said. “I should probably let Henry know what Anna said.” “He’ll be thrilled. We’re moving locations later this week, you know. Indoor cages.” “See?” Emma asked. “No wonder he thinks you walk on air. No one else is doing that.”

“You are,” he said quickly and easily.

She shrugged. “Maybe it’s just a team effort.” “I like that.”

“That makes two of us.” “I’ll be done around 8:30 later if you want to leave then?”

“Sure.”

“You mind going to the store before we head home? I don’t have any food.”

Emma ignored the flip in her stomach when he said home and nodded slowly. “Sure, as long as you promise not to take two and a half hours in Whole Foods.” “I can’t do that, love. I have to examine things.”

She rolled her eyes as she walked towards the studio door, yanking it open and staring expectantly at him. He kissed her once more before walking back into the hallway, straightening his collar as he went.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, pulling her hair up as she walked back into the living room.

Killian was sitting on the couch, legs propped up up on the coffee table, his phone in one hand and his other arm stretched out along the back of the cushions. He looked up over his shoulder when he heard Emma and shrugged, a small smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.

“Mary Margaret’s going to kill you if she sees your feet up like that,” Emma continued, reaching out to flatten his hair slightly – he looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, which made sense; he had. Emma’s bed, in fact.

“Mary Margaret has not only avoided killing me,” he said, the sarcasm rolling off him, “but she’s already seen my feet and given me coffee.” Killian nodded towards the mug sitting on the table next to him and smiled even wider at Emma. She just shook her head.

His phone dinged and Killian glanced back down at the screen, turning his attention away from Emma as she walked around the couch and sank down next to him.

Killian’s fingers danced across the screen quickly and it took less than a full second for the phone to ding again with another message. “Who are you talking to?” she asked, leaning against his shoulder. “It’s Thanksgiving. Tell work to shut up.” “I don’t think I can tell work to shut up, Swan. Work is not exactly a person.” “I know,” she groaned. “Even so.” “Even so, I enjoy teasing you, love,” he said, kissing the top of her head as he dropped his arm and pulled her against his side. “And it’s not work.” “What?” “Not work.” The phone dinged again and Emma lowered her eyebrows, turning her head up towards him in question. “Who is it?” “Your sister is very bored.” “You’re talking to El?” “That is what I said isn’t it?” “He’s been talking to her for almost an hour,” Mary Margaret said, smiling as she leaned against the living room wall. She made a significant face at Emma, who was sitting wide-eyed glancing between Killian, Mary Margaret and the constantly-dinging phone.

“You’ve been up for an hour?” Emma asked.

Killian rolled his eyes. “Not all of us sleep until noon, Swan.” “It’s not noon,” Emma mumbled. “Did she say where they were?” “I’ve been getting near constant updates. They’re almost here, last update was at Yonkers.” “She’s just sending you location updates?” “No.”

It wasn’t a very extensive answer and Emma widened her eyes at Killian. “What aren’t you telling me?” “Nothing, love.”

Lie. “Yuh huh.”

“I’m telling you the truth. Your sister and I have been talking. That’s all. There’s no deep, dark secret happening here.” Emma sighed, shaking her head slightly and standing up. Mary Margaret still had that small smile on her face. “Where’s David, M’s?”

“On his way to Penn Station to pick up all of them.”

“Are they all coming at once?” Emma sighed.

“Well there’s one train. It’s kind of the only option.” “How exactly are you going to fit an entire family in here, Swan?” Killian asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Move the coffee table, put a real table there, push the couch as far back against the wall as humanly possible.” “Of course.” “It’s a tried and true system,” Mary Margaret added, without looking up from the vegetables she was cutting. “We’re well practiced.” “And where exactly are all these people going to stay?” Killian asked.

“Interview?” Emma responded, crossing her arms and twisting her mouth slightly.

“Curiosity,” Killian sighed. “You have two rooms here.” “The ability to count is very impressive.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret chided, finally turning around. Emma made a face and Killian reached out to uncross her arms, lacing his fingers through hers with ease. “It’s another tried and true system,” she continued. “Although a bit more complicated than the living room table.” “How so?”

“Ok, keep up. So, contrary to popular belief, David does actually have his own apartment. So I go with him. Stay on the air mattress in his living room and his mom stays in his room. Emma stays here, sleeps in my room and Elsa and Ingrid take her room. My dad is a bit of a wild card because he doesn’t always come to Thanksgiving, but he’s taken care of that himself. He’s staying somewhere farther uptown.”

“That is quite a system,” Killian said.

“It’s worked fairly well for the last couple of years.” Killian’s phone dinged again and he glanced down at the message. “Elsa said they’re at Penn. David apparently brought a sign.” Mary Margaret groaned and Emma laughed, leaning her head on Killian’s shoulder. “Of course he did.” “You should probably get ready, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, chopping vegetables again.

“Thanks mom.”

“Go, love,” Killian added, nudging his shoulder up a bit. “I’m sure your family will be here soon.” “Don’t you need to get ready?” He shrugged his shoulders, glancing down at his very already-dressed body.  “When did that happen?” Emma continued.

“Again, not all of us sleep until noon, Swan.” Emma groaned and heard Mary Margaret chuckle slightly. “Fine. Fine! I’m going.”

She walked back into the living room 30 minutes later to find a small army – fresh off the train from Storybrooke – crammed into the small space, all of them holding some sort of drink while the football game played in the background.

“Emma!”

Ingrid was hugging her before she even had a chance to move, arms wrapped tightly around her and Emma sank into the feeling immediately.

“Hey,” she muttered. “How was the train?” “Long.” “Always. Did you sleep?” “A little bit. I don’t think Elsa did much though.” “She was talking to Killian,” Emma said softly, glancing over at her sister who was, still, talking to her boyfriend, Mr. Blanchard on the other side of them.

“I know.” “I thought you were asleep.” “That phone made noise every five seconds,” Ingrid laughed. “What do you think woke me up?”

Emma shook her head. “What do you think they were talking about?” “If I had to guess?” Emma nodded. “Probably you.”

She made a face and bit her lip tightly. “Why?” “Well,” Ingrid said slowly. “I know she’s given the overprotective sister speech already, so it’s not that. I think Elsa just likes talking to him. She worries about you a lot, wants to make sure you’re happy too and she’s just double checking that you are.” “I am,” Emma said, the certainty in her voice taking her by surprise just a bit.

“Yeah?” “More than I expected to be.” “I’m glad, Emma,” Ingrid said, squeezing Emma’s shoulder. “This is good, you know?” “I do.” “Better go rescue him from Mr. Blanchard then. Before he starts asking about the Red Sox and his offseason hopes.” Emma laughed under her breath and nodded, smiling at Ingrid. “Good call.” “Go. I’m going to see if Mary Margaret needs any help.”

Emma hugged her again before walking to the other side of the living room and slipping in between Killian and Elsa. His arm wrapped around her waist without even looking at her – she was too late, he was talking about the Red Sox.

“You doing ok with the baseball talk El?” Emma asked.

“It is honestly all anyone at work talks about,” Elsa groaned. “I’m pretty used to it now.” “You going to become a baseball fan now?” “Absolutely not.” “What’s wrong with baseball?” Killian asked, leaning around Emma and smirking at her sister. “It’s the American pastime for a reason.” “It is, without a doubt, the most boring sport in the world.” “Rough opinion,” Killian laughed. “What led you to that conclusion?” “They brought us to Fenway a couple months after I started and I was so bored I thought I was going to scream.” “There’s strategy to baseball,” Emma added and Killian tightened his grip on her waist, kissing the top of her head lightly.

“And it can be exciting,” Mr. Blanchard chipped in. “Home runs are exciting. Hits. Even no hits can be a good thing.”

“I don’t believe it,” Elsa objected. “Come on Killian, you can’t tell me you weren’t ever bored playing.” “Not once.”

“Don’t lie.” He wasn’t. Emma could have told Elsa that even without the ridiculous sixth sense, but with it, she was nothing short of positive. He was telling the absolute truth.

“I’m not,” Killian said. “If you’re bored playing, then you have no business playing. Anything can happen at any point. That’s what makes it so much fun. Half the battle is the anticipation.” “That’s a rather romantic approach.” “Baseball is a rather romantic sport.” “I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one.” “America’s pastime,” he said again and Elsa shook her head.

“Hey!” she snapped, turning her attention back to Emma. “How come you didn’t ask me for Anna’s number?”

Emma’s eyes widened, stunned a bit by the sudden turn of conversation. “What?”

“I think I’m going to go see if there’s anything else to drink in your kitchen,” Mr. Blanchard said quietly, glancing between Emma and Elsa. “I still want to talk about this year’s World Series with you later, Killian.” “Noted,” he said. “I’ll be here.”

Mr. Blanchard was gone two seconds later and Emma took a deep breath, staring at her sister. “I didn’t know if you wanted to help,” she said softly.

“Of course I want to help,” Elsa scoffed. “I would have helped.” “You weren’t all that happy with me before.”

“And you’ve fixed that,” Elsa said, staring pointedly at the arm wrapped tightly around Emma’s waist. “I’m glad to see you stopped being stupid.” “Elsa,” Killian muttered, tilting his head slightly. Emma shook her head.

“It’s ok,” Emma interrupted. “I was being stupid. You were right to be mad, El. I get it. I would have been mad if it was you.”

“Good,” Elsa said. “So I bet Anna was psyched to help.”

Emma shook her head at the abrupt change of tone again. “She is...incredibly enthusiastic.”

“That’s very true. But she’s always talked about wanting to help people.”

“And she did. We’re going to win.” “I wasn’t aware there was a competition going on.” “Haven’t you realized, Elsa?” Killian asked, smiling at Emma. “Everything is a bit of a competition with your sister.”

Elsa laughed – loudly – and Emma groaned, leaning against Killian’s side and ignoring the rush of emotion she felt when she called her Elsa’s sister . Not many people did that. Not many people – even in Storybrooke – acknowledged that.

She suddenly wished they were anywhere but the very crowded living room of her walk-up. If they were anywhere else she’d be able to kiss him and, probably, tell him she loved him. Probably. Maybe eventually.

“Oh that is absolutely true,” Elsa agreed. “Have you seen her when she watches a football game yet? She loses her mind.” “We went to a Giants game a few weeks ago,” Emma muttered.

“What?! Oh my God, Killian, was she insane in person? Did she get kicked out of the stadium for yelling obscenities at the field?” “That didn’t happen,” Killian said, smiling slightly. “Although she did yell quite a bit.” “Not a lot,” Emma objected. “And mostly at David.” “You went to a Patriots game?!” Elsa screeched and David yelled something from the kitchen that sounded like Don’t talk about it .

“We did,” Killian confirmed. “And Emma won.” Elsa practically cackled. “Oh God, she’s got you doing it now too. Calling the team hers. You’re not actually the one on the field, Emma.”

“It’s my team,” Emma objected.

“Of course it is love,” Killian agreed, running his hand up and down her waist.

Emma didn’t have a chance to say anything else to him – or make out with her boyfriend in the middle of her family Thanksgiving  – before Mary Margaret rounded the corner to announce that dinner was ready .

David and Mr. Blanchard followed shortly behind her, each of them holding plates of food in both of their hands.

“I’m going to go see if Mary Margaret needs more wait staff to carry out food,” Killian muttered in her ear, kissing her cheek lightly before dropping his arm away from her and moving towards the kitchen.

Elsa stared at Emma with some kind of knowing look on her face. “Don’t,” Emma warned. “Don’t you dare say anything.” “I would never. I’d never tell you how right I was. Or how happy you are. How happy he is. I don’t need to do that.” “Obviously not.” “I’m glad you figured it out,” Elsa added, smiling genuinely. “This is good. Really good. And God is he better than Neal.” “Much better,” Emma laughed, returning the smile.

Hope .

“I will never understand how you manage to do this every year, M’s,” Emma said later that night, standing next to the sink with a towel draped over her arm.

“It’s a system.” “What time did you actually get up this morning?” “Early.”

“That’s not an answer.” “Like 7...ish.” “Ish?” “Maybe earlier,” Mary Margaret admitted, handing Emma another now-clean dish. “It was a lot of food.”

“You should have woken me up. I would have helped.” “I had help.” “What?” Emma asked, opening up a cabinet and putting a stack of dishes inside.

“What do you think Killian was doing while you were still asleep? He peeled potatoes and helped make stuffing, even put the turkey in the oven.”

Emma shook her head slowly, glancing over in the living room to see Killian and Elsa talking again, laughing about something with Ingrid. Her stomach flipped. This was real . This was happening.

She had a drawer in his apartment and he was a speed dial on her phone. He stayed with her the night before and he kept texting her sister.

This was real.

God, she needed to tell him.

“I told you he was a good cook,” Emma said softly.

“And I told you to talk to him about every single feeling that is painted on your face right now. I know you haven’t.”

“I’m waiting for the right time.” “You’re stalling.”

Emma groaned, grabbing the handful of silverware Mary Margaret offered her. “Waiting.”

Mary Margaret shook her head and sighed, but didn’t push the issue anymore – a fact Emma was grateful for. Emma focused on meticulously drying off every single piece of silverware in front of her, only looking over her shoulder when she heard Killian’s phone go off.

She assumed it was an e-mail or a text or anything except the news they both had been dreading for weeks. But then she heard his sharp intake of breath – even from her spot next to the sink – and jumped a bit when the door slammed as he walked out of the apartment, leaving an entire family gaping slightly at his departure.

“What is that about?” Mary Margaret asked, holding a glass out to Emma. She didn’t take it.

“I’ll go find out,” Emma answered, ignoring the glass and walking out of the apartment in four, quick steps. She didn’t have to find out.

She knew.

She wasn’t sure how she did. But she knew.

He was sitting halfway down the stairs, almost as if he couldn’t go any farther before he had collapsed on the floor. Emma sighed, sinking down next to him, sitting as close as she could without actually touching him.

“What happened?” she whispered.

Killian didn’t look up, didn’t say a single word, just handed her his phone, the message still on the screen. Emma tapped the screen, lighting up the phone and read It happened. He bought it.

There was no number, no name, just unknown across the top of the screen and two sentences and Emma’s heart felt like it had snapped in half.

“Who is this from?” she asked.

“I’d assume Milah.” “Are you sure?” “You don’t have to be optimistic, Swan. It is.” “He really bought the paper?” “So it would seem.”

Emma took a deep breath and reached up to run her fingers over the back of his neck. Killian leaned back slightly and closed his eyes.

“What now?” Emma pressed, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “I have no idea.” “It doesn’t have to be bad.” “It already is. They’re probably not going to announce it for awhile. I’m sure there’s plenty of legal issues to work through. If I had to guess I’d say I’ve got about a month before Gold tells me I’m done.” “The end of the year? That’s awfully poetic.” “Seems he’s picked up a flair for the dramatic over the last seven years.”

“I’m not going to believe that,” Emma objected. “I can’t. I just...I can’t imagine you not there.” “Going to miss having me as a boss, Swan?”

He was doing his best to keep his voice light, to joke about the situation, but Emma heard the disappointment. She blinked several times – trying to make sure that she didn’t start to cry in the middle of the stairwell – and leaned closer to him.

“No,” she whispered. “That’s not what I meant.” “What did you mean then?” “This is your whole life, Killian. And you’ve worked so hard on it, to find something like that. I can’t imagine you not writing.” He turned to look at her, finally meeting her eyes and smiled sadly, reaching one hand up to bury his fingers in her hair. “It’s not my whole life, Swan.” “No?” Killian shook his head, but didn’t say anything else. He pushed Emma’s hair behind her ear and raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was trying to tell her something without actually telling her anything.

“It’s not,” he said softly. “Not anymore.”

Emma bit her lip and tilted her head up before he kissed her, pulling her flush against him and dropping his hands down to her hips, fingers skimming underneath the bottom of her shirt. She sighed into him and, for a moment, forgot the text message and the paper and the entire family in her apartment a few feet away.

The only thing that mattered was him.

“I love you,” Emma mumbled, not even realizing she had actually said anything until Killian pulled away from her quickly, eyes wide and back stick-straight. He didn’t even look like he was breathing.

“What?” She had been thinking it. She hadn’t planned on saying it. Not now. Not like this. Emma’s mouth dropped open in surprise and she tried to breathe, but it felt as if both of her lungs had collapsed.

“I…” she stuttered, shaking her head with her mouth still hanging open. “I don’t…” “You don’t what?” He barely said the words at all, his voice a bit breathless and faster than Emma had ever heard it. She still couldn’t breathe.

So she kissed him instead, leaning up until, somehow, she ended up on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He moved away from her mouth for a moment and Emma did her best not to groan. But then he moved to her neck and her collarbone, hands everywhere and Emma groaned for an entirely different reason.

“Swan,” Killian mumbled, lips moving against her skin. “We’ve got to stop, love.” “Why?”

“Because we’re in the middle of a stairwell and your entire family is in your apartment.” She rolled her hips slightly and Killian shook his head, glaring at her pointedly, grabbing her hip to try and hold her still. “Emma, if you don’t stop doing that I am not going to be able to control myself in the middle of this stairwell.” She only stopped because he called her Emma.

“Fine,” she grumbled, glancing down, still unable to move with his hands holding onto her hips.

“Hey,” he answered, tucking his fingers under her chin. “Look at me for a second.”

“What?” “I love you too.”

He smiled slightly, ducking his head so he was even with her and trailing his fingers through her hair again. Emma’s heart stuttered as he stared at her and she bit her lip tightly.

“More than anything,” he added softly and Emma’s shoulders dropped as she felt the breath she certainly hadn’t been holding rush out of her.

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but Killian shook his head. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t say anything, Emma.” He called her Emma again. She bit down tighter on her lip and nodded.

“I just…” He was the one stuttering now. That almost made her feel as if they were on more even emotional ground. “I wasn’t expecting that.” “Me to love you or me to say it?” “Either or,” he shrugged.

“I really do.” “You really do what?”

Emma made a face and Killian just smiled at her, that same sort of encouraging look that he always threw her when he was trying to make sure she didn’t waver on anything. She took a deep breath and sat up just a bit straighter.

“I love you,” Emma repeated and this time was different.

This time she meant to say it. It wasn’t a mistake or a should-have-been thought. She didn’t stutter, didn’t even hesitate as she said the words. She meant it – with every fiber of her being. And his answering smile was perfect .

Killian sucked in breath quickly, his shoulders moving up and down as he shook his head. “Jeez,” he half muttered, almost as if he was talking to himself.

“Anything to add?” Emma added, nudging her hand into her shoulder.

“I thought I had made myself particularly clear with the ‘more than anything’ part of the equation.”

“Doesn’t make it any less nice to hear.”

“I love you, Emma,” he said again and God if he didn’t call her Swan again soon, she was going to make sure he lost control in the middle of the stairwell.

“And we’re going to be ok,” she added. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her.

“How so, love?” “Even if that’s real,” Emma nodded towards Killian’s phone on the stair. He scoffed slightly. “Ok, when they announce that is real. No matter what happens. It’s going to be ok.” “So positive, Swan.” “Confident. There’s a difference.”

He smiled and shook his head again before kissing her lips lightly. Emma heard a door open down the hallway, intent on ignoring it. She couldn’t when she heard the voice yelling towards her.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret shouted, footsteps coming closer. Killian sighed and moved Emma off his legs as quickly as possible.

“Yeah, M’s?” she called back, looking over her shoulder to find her friend staring at her with a very specific look on her face.

“You guys ok?” “Sure. Yeah, we’re coming back now.” Mary Margaret nodded, glancing between Emma and Killian with a smile on her face before turning away. Killian stood up, reaching out his hand to help Emma up.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “You good?” “Better, love.” “We should go inside before they send out an entire search party after us.” “Of course.” “Hey,” Emma said, stepping into his space and rubbing her hands up and down his arms. “It’s going to be ok. I promise.” “Of course,” Killian repeated, but Emma knew he didn’t believe her. “C’mon Swan. I know Mary Margaret made at least three different pies. It only seems fair to test every single one of them.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and directed Emma back down the hallway, a million thoughts racing through her head, namely how she was actually going to tell Mary Margaret that she told him she loved him.

#cs ff #cs fic #cs au #cs fanfic #ypblag #i only just realized how long this was #jeez #sorry internet

[visionsando1992-blog]

When it comes to cheating on your girlfriend there are so many different views, some dudes think it’s no big deal, some dudes think it doesn’t count if it’s in a different area code and some dudes swear it’s the worst thing any guy can do. For some reason the dudes that think it’s a crime punishable by death are the same guys that cheat the more than Tiger woods in the playboy mansion. No matter what your stance is if you’re going to cheat then goddammit you better do it right so let go over the “Unwritten Rules for Cheating on your girl.” Rule 1: NO LOCAL CHICKS If you’re going to have some side action then treat it like you’re a Marine, all the missions should be on foreign soil. You never EVER take on a side mission anywhere NEAR headquarters. To many great men have banged the maid and lost it all ..Sorry Arnold. When it’s time to pick a side chick NO DISTANCE is too great 30 miles, 50 miles shit if you could find chicks living on the moon that would be great. You don’t want to be in the mall with your main girl and then like a glitter covered grim reaper here comes that stripper you banged that works at the club 4 miles away from where you live. When looking for a side chick you should in the mind set of the great trail blazers of the past, Lewis and Clark, Hernan Cortez, Captain James T. Kirk  you want uncharted lands. I can guarantee when Christopher Columbus landed the first thing he claimed in the name of Spain wasn’t America …it was a piece of foreign ass. Rule 2: NO REAL DATES Stay focused, you don’t want another girlfriend you want KICK ASS SEX. The moment you start buying birthday gifts and going out dancing the next thing you know you got two girlfriends and that’s basically what the waiting room for Hell looks like. Remember, when it comes to being with your side chick you should treat it like a bank robbery you want to get in and out as fast as possible and leave no evidence. Sleeping over is a NO NO, cuddling is a NO NO; remember you already have a girlfriend and she will give you PLENTY of that bullshit. You’re here at this random chicks house so you can jump off the top rope like Macho Man Randy Savage, hit her with the flying elbow and pin that ass for the 1,2,3. Rule 3: DON’T CHEAT WITH UGLY CHICKS Remember you could get caught and you want to make sure if you do lose your main girl at least you can upgrade to the big titty stripper you have been hanging with. I often feel bad when I see some dude losing his girl that was a solid 10 for the 4 he cheated with. Losing your hot girlfriend because you got caught with some Walmart cashier is like selling your corvette to buy a laminated bus pass. Remember the ugly chick COULD find you in public and no guy wants to be in the mall and hear “BABY” yelled from across the food court only to turn around and there she is Marmaduke running full speed hurdling tables like an Olympic athlete,  her knuckles dragging on the ground as she drops her sack of 50 sliders from white castle just to throw those thigh like arms around you. Now not only are you upset she found you but Mall security threatens to call the police unless you can produce a license for having a wild animal. Rule 4: MAKE SURE SHE IS A FREAK IN THE SHEETS  What’s the point in cheating just to have the same old face to face boring sex your girl gives you. Sex with your girl sucks and you know it, every valentine’s day your girl buys lingerie and thinks that’s a gift …I’m sorry but if simply rewrapping the same old ass I get every day makes it a gift then on Christmas I’m going to take back the bracelet I gave you wrap it again and yell surprise Christmas morning. That’s right Fellas lay out every freaky, dirty, insane awesome thing you have ever wanted to do and if your side chick doesn’t want to do it DROP HER. I don’t care what your into she should do it THAT’S THE POINT OF GETTING WITH HER. I don’t care if you want to stand over her butt naked and deliver the speech from training day, if that’s what you like then jump and yell   “You think you can do this to me IM THE POLICE YOU MUTHAFUCKAS WILL BE PLAYING BASKETBALL IN PELICAN BAY …SHOE PROGRAM” The side chick should ALWAYS BE A TOTAL sex maniac and willing to do it all. I once knew a girl that wanted to dress up in full football pads and be naked from the waist down and actually tackle me before sex. Do you think I did it?? Well let’s just say her ringtone was the Fox Sports football theme. Rule 5: Never give her your real phone number  Get a goddamn prepaid cell phone from the drugstore and you keep that thing hidden like the Taliban hid hostages. Guys always make the mistake of keeping text messages and when their girl goes through their phone AND SHE MOST CERTAINLY WILL they get caught and it’s a massacre. Once every call is made every text is sent ERASE them. You need to treat every picture and text and voicemail like its evidence and imagine your main girl is a CSI detective. Don’t take pictures with your side chick I can guarantee you just became her new Facebook profile pic. When it comes to pictures you should be like bigfoot, every shot should be out of focus, blurry and from far away with no way to positively identify you. When it comes to side chicks they should have a better chance of getting a selfie with Jesus and Santa Clause high fiving than they do of getting a picture with you. Rule 6: Don’t tell ANYBODY Don’t tell anybody not your brother, cousin, Dad, classmates, Co-workers, priest, Jesus, bums, hobos, your imaginary friend NOT ANYBODY because guess what THEY WILL TELL AT LEAST ONE OTHER PERSON. You have to resist that school girl urge to giggle and tell someone about your conquest but remember it’s going to work against you.  When some dumb ass guy tells his girlfriend who will then undoubtedly tell YOUR GIRL you will see why you NEVER tell anyone! Treat these rules as law gentlemen and your rewards shall be plentiful. Happy Hunting fellas and may the force be with you.