#i still don’t know how jessica knew i was out of milk-

[spoonsock]

Show me love pt.1

Part 2

Gwen Stacy x fem! Reader

No Spider-woman AU!!

This is basically a retelling of the movie “Show me love (1998)” or “Fucking Åmål (1998)”, I just switched the characters but the plot is practically the same. I only kept Jessica’s name from the movie, I gave the rest of the characters other names. I definitely recommend watching the movie! I also recommend reading the synopsis for it before reading this but it’s not necessary to watch the movie to read this.

This is all soooo chaotic but tbh the whole movie is chaotic so don’t blame me if you simply don’t understand some parts because honestly neither do I🤷‍♀️

Considering that this will only cover up like the first part of the movie, I’ll write a part two and possibly a part three, but only if this gets some attention, which I doubt cuz it’s awfully written but still please lmk if you want me to write the rest 😭🙏

Synopsis: After the death of her best friend, Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy doesn’t do friends. She’s sad and a loner, the quiet, weird girl who sits alone at lunch. But she’s also secretly in love with the popular, beautiful and upbeat Y/N, who yearns for an interesting life.

Warnings: homophobia, underage drinking, mentions of (underage) drug use, has some angsty parts, OOC Gwen, reader and the rest of the characters do not really know how lesbianism works, all the characters are dumb little teenagers don’t expect much maturity in this, not proofread whoops, also wrote this when I was sleep deprived so I guess most of it doesn’t make sense

“Happy birthday to youuuu! Happy birthday to youuu!”

Those were the first words she heard when she woke up. Groaning, she opened up her eyes and sat up straight, smiling at the sight of her dad holding a delicious looking cake in front of her.

“Happy birthday dear Gwen, happy birthday to you”, he sang as she grinned up at him and blew the candles on the cake. “Thanks dad”

He sat down next to her when she noticed he was holding some papers in his hands, aside from the cake. “What’s that?” Gwen asked as he handed her the papers. Birthday invitations. Her smile turned into a frown as she gave him a disapproving look.

“Dad-“ “Before you say anything, please, just consider”, he interrupted her, already knowing what she was going to say. He knew she wasn’t the most social person, especially after the death of her friend, her best friend, Peter Parker. He knew she didn’t have anyone aside from him. Not even the girls from the band she used to be in, before she gave up on that too. But then she lost him, and he saw her whole world fall apart. He watched her lose interest in everything that used to make her happy. He watched her lose her spark. And it pained him so much. But he hoped that maybe, all she needs is a little push. She can’t be alone her whole life. So, a party, he thought, couldn’t be a bad idea.

She looked at him, then down at the invitations, and then back to him. “Dad, I don’t have who to give them to”.

“Honey, you have to find some friends. I know it’s hard after Peter’s de-“ Gwen tensed up at the mention of his name and suddenly moved around on her bed to get up, making the cake almost fall down and smudge everywhere. “Fine, I’ll give them out!”, she rolled her eyes before getting up to get ready for school. “Gwen, you don’t have t-“, he was interrupted once again by the aggressive slamming of the door. The cop sighed sadly.

———————————————

To say that you never had the best relationship with your sister would be an understatement. Sometimes, even the smallest, pettiest things she did would absolutely infuriate you. Today on the repertoire of shit she did that pissed you off was taking the last of the chocolate milk.

“I HATE YOU” you screamed as you poured the containing of her cup right onto her head. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??!” She yelled as she grabbed on your hair and threw you on the floor. You kicked and trashed around as your poor mother came in asking what what the hell is happening. “YOU CAN ASK Y/N”, said your sister, Jessica, as she ran out of the kitchen.

“I don’t understand, I am so tired of this! I’ve been working all night!” Your mother said, as you looked down in shame. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to wake you up”

She sighed, “What was it this time?”

“She took the last of the chocolate milk” you answered quietly, feeling guilty. “She took the last of the chocolate milk?” She repeated, disbelief in her voice. You nodded and started swiping the spilled milk off of the floor with a piece of paper with your foot.

You got ready and exited the house, about to make your way to school, when you saw a guy with a moped who you recognized as Jonah.

“Hi”, he said. “Hi, you live here?”. “No, just had to do something here. You want a ride? You can take the helmet” he offered but you rejected, claiming you’ll walk and hoping he’ll leave you alone.

“You coming to Christian’s tonight?”. “Maybe”, you replied while still heading off. You heard him mumble something but ignored it.

—————————————————

Taking out the stuff from her locker, Gwen saw a classmate she acquainted sometimes. She remembered the party invitations before deciding, fuck it, she’ll try. So she went up to the girl in the wheelchair, who’s name was Marie, and gave her the invitation. “Here”, she said, “I’m having a party apparently”. Thanks” replied the girl.

“You? Having a party?”, asked one of the mean, popular girls, who’s name Gwen didn’t know and frankly didn’t want to know. “No”, she said quickly and tried to stop the girl from taking the invitation from Marie, but she wasn’t fast enough. The bitch took the card and started teasing Gwen, but she grabbed the invitation back and shooed her off. She was about to go back to her locker when she heard a certain voice. Your voice.

“Jessica, I’m so sorry, I’m such a fool. I promise to never spill chocolate milk on you”, you hugged your sister tightly and continued to apologize, feeling genuinely sorry. Gwen didn’t know what it was about you that made her like you. She wrote songs about you, she wrote about you in her diary, she dreamed of you and all that stupid shit. It made her so confused. You had a reputation of being with so many guys, it didn’t make sense to her as to why she was so attracted to you of all people. But it is what it is, and she continued to stare at you as you talked to your sister.

In class, she wrote your name over and over in her notebook, drawing stars and hearts around it, while you were bored to death in another classroom, not even attempting to listen to what the teacher was droning on about.

During lunch, you sat with your “friends” and talked about how you wanna go to a rave or something, complaining about how bored you are, unaware of the certain blonde staring at you, sitting a few tables away, next to Marie. “You are so boring!”, you exclaimed to no one in particular before laying your head on the table.

“We could go to Gwen’s party”, one of your associates, the very girl who teased Gwen just a few hours ago, mentioned. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion. “Which Gwen?”

“Gwen, aren’t you having a party?”, the girl turned to Gwen and sneered at her, while she tried not to listen to the bitch.

“Everything is so boring! I hate my life!”, you cried out, ignoring whatever was happening around you.

“Gwen!”, the mean girl continued yelling at the blonde as she got up. “Gwen, we’ll come to the party!”. Gwen flipped her off and ran out of the cafeteria. You didn’t bother to raise your head even when the other girls from your table started yelling at the blonde.

——————————————

“Mum, it isn’t a rave, it’s just a normal party!”, Jessica tried explaining to your mother, who caught you both in the lift while you were half naked. To elaborate, you have no mirror in your house so to see what you look like you have to use the mirror in the escalator. You were getting ready to go to Christian’s, you took off your pants in the lift, looking at yourself in the mirror, waiting for Jessica, who you told to bring you your skirt, but she forgot, and as the two of you were arguing in the lift, the door of it opens and reveals your mother who sees you hiding behind your sister in a tank top and underwear and throws a tantrum, saying you can’t go out.

“You can stay here together and have fun, while I’m at work. I bought chips and soft drinks”

“Well done, Y/N. Welcome home”, your sister says sarcastically making you roll your eyes.

The moment your mother leaves you start rummaging through the medicine cabinet, complaining how you wanna do drugs. “None of those will do anything”, Jessica retorts making you pout and spit out the random pill you put in your mouth. “I’ll do something else then. I’ll fall in love”, “I thought you already were. With that Italian guy?”, “He wasn’t Italian. Maybe Bosnian. Whatever. I’m not in love with him”, you speak as you lay your head on your sisters lap when suddenly the phone rings. Jessica answers and says it’s the guy you saw this morning, Jonah. “He wants to know if you’re coming to Christian’s. He’s in love with you.” You make a sour face. “Ugh!” You groan. “What? I thought you wanted to fall in love?”, “Not with Jonah Hult! There’s no way I’m going to Christian’s now. I’d rather go to Gwen’s”

Your sister turns to you with wide eyes, “To Gwen’s? Are you braindead or what?” You throw a hairbrush at her. “What if there’s nice guys there?”, “At Gwen’s?”, your sister asks again. “Might be! Please!!” You give her your best puppy eyes and she looks at you before tsking “Fine, fine”. You squeal in happiness and kiss her cheeks.

—————————————

Gwen and her dad sit in their living room in an awkward silence.

“No one’s coming dad, let’s just eat”. “Have some patience Gwen”, he tries lightening her up. Soon enough the doorbell rings and it’s Gwen’s classmate, Marie. Chief Stacy helps her with her wheelchair and they all sit together in the living room. Gwen opens up the present Marie got her, a bottle of perfume, before saying how she can’t accept it. Something snaps inside her before she yells at Marie, calling her a crippled idiot and saying how she never even wanted to be her friend, while her dad tries to stop her. Marie goes home and Gwen storms to her room. Her dad tries to comfort her while she cries and yells at him, about how she has no friends, about Peter’s death, about something being wrong with her, about wanting to die. She lays there as chief rubs her back not knowing what to do or to say, then finally proposing to go eat the special dinner he prepared for her party when she calms down.

They eat peacefully until the doorbell rings again and Gwen shakes her head, telling her dad to not let in whoever’s there. He tells her to put away the dishes while he tells off the people who came. Gwen does as told then goes to the bathroom to wash her face. Her eyes are puffy and red from crying and she looks like a mess. She hasn’t looked this bas since Peter’s death.

————————————————

You ring the doorbell a couple of times. No one answers and Jessica urges you to leave it, until the door opens and, the person you suppose is Gwen’s father, let’s you in. He gives you some wine and tells you to wait in Gwen’s room so you go up there. You fill up your two glasses with wine and clink them together while looking around the room. It’s filled with posters on the walls, there are many cds and books on the bookshelf, and there is a drum kit in the very middle of it all.

“What party is this? Are we the only ones?”, your sister asks you and you shrug. “Why complain, Jess? We’ve got wine and everything”, you smile at her. “Yes but like…….Okay, we’ll drink the wine and leave”, “Deal”, you say as you continue to sip on it happily.

Unbeknownst to you, Gwen gets out of the bathroom to see her dad sitting on the couch, watching the TV. “Wasn’t someone there?”, she asks. “Yes, but they weren’t hungry so I gave them some wine and sent them to your room”. Confusion arises in her “And who was it?”. “Y/N and Jessica”. At the mention of your name, panic wakes in Gwen.

Meanwhile, in her room, you see some notebooks sprawled across her work table so you rummage a bit through them, but one of them falls down and opens on the floor, giving you access to what’s inside and the contents of it do surprise you. Inside of it are written poems and you can tell they’re beautiful even though you don’t get to read them fully because you suddenly hear the door knob shuffling. But whoever is trying to enter is unable. “What the-, open the door!”, you hear from the outside.

“Did you lock the goddamn door?”, you turn to Jessica but she just gives you a look and starts giggling. She runs to the door, “I’m just ummmm….I’m just-I’m just changing!”, she tells Gwen on the other side and you accidentally let out a loud chuckle. “You’ve got a skirt on!”, you whisper-yell at her while still trying not to laugh. Gwen sighs and leans on the door, waiting for you to finish changing, apparently.

“Have you heard she’s a lesbian?”, Jessica asks you. “What! Really?”, you reply and your sister makes gagging noises saying how that’s gross.

The wine made you a little tipsy and you don’t think it through before you start speaking to the door.

“Gwen, is it true that you-“, Jessica quickly covers your mouth while giggling her ass of with you.

“Aren’t you done yet?”, comes from the other side of the door and Jessica tells her you guys will be finished in a second.

“I think it’s cool”, you say and receive a blank stare from your sister. “Cool? Are you serious?”, “Yeah. I’m gonna be one too when I grow up”. “Come on”, your sister tsks at you.

“Open up now!”, Gwen yells and you turn to Jessica. “Let her in, she’s nice”

“If she’s so nice, go out and neck her then, Y/N”, she challenges you and you chuckle.

“Okay. And what do I get if I do?”, “If you do what?”, “If I neck her.”, “You’ll get AIDS probably”, your sister says matter of factly.

“If I kiss her, will you give me 100 bucks?”, she laughs and your request and offers 20 bucks, to which you agree and tell her she’ll have to leave.

“You won’t dare to do it, though”, she sneers and you whisper bet to her as you unlock the door and let the blonde in and your sister out. She doesn’t even acknowledge Gwen as she leaves the two of you alone in the room.

“Hi”, you tell her and she says hi back while picking up the notebook from the floor and putting it away. She leans on her worktable and avoids eye contact with you while you intently stare at her. The wine made your vision just a tad bit blurry, but even through clouded eyes you still admire the blonde’s beauty.

“Why can’t you sit over here?”, you ask referring to her bed on which you are sitting. “Why, what for?”, she asks back with suspicion laced in her voice. “There’s something I wanna tell you”, you answer knowing damn well you ain’t got nothing to say, you just want the 20 bucks.

“Can’t you just say it?”, she crosses her arms and you look around, catching Jessica’s eyes. She’s in front of the room watching you through the crack of the slightly opened door. You try not to smile when you see her and put a fake pout on your face. “I-I just don’t want Jessica to hear it”, you fake out a stutter, inwardly laughing at how stupid you sound.

She looks at you for a second before mumbling a fine and sitting next to you. “It’s just that”, you move closer to her. “You’re so pretty”, her eyes widen slightly when you say that but before she can react, you grab her face and kiss her passionately. She finally starts returning the kiss as the butterflies erupt in her stomach but you accidentally catch Jessica’s stare again and suddenly break contact with Gwen and run out of the room. Your sister grabs your hand, “Jesus, Y/N, you’re insane! That’s is so disgusting!”, she laughs as you two leave the house and run as far as you can, leaving Gwen in her room to process what just happened.

You kissed her. Y/N kisses her. But then you ran away. Your laughter and Jessica’s words suddenly echo in her mind. “That is so disgusting!” All the butterflies disappear from her tummy and that awful feeling in settles in her gut. She feels…humiliated. She guesses you probably ran of to all of your stupid bitch friends to tell them how you kissed Gwen and how stupid she probably looked.

Tears appeared in her eyes. She wanted to scream and to yell and to beat you the fuck up for making a fool out of her. But you were God knows where laughing and making fun of her. Gwen laid down on her bed and let out all of her tears, as if she hasn’t cried enough already tonight. This was the worst birthday ever.

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART TWO CUZ I AIN’T WRITING THAT FOR NO ONE!

I’m impulsively posting this and I’ll regret it in the morning.

#gwen stacy x reader #spider gwen #spider gwen x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spider woman #into the spider verse #show me love #spider man #reader insert #no spider woman sry #ooc gwen #she’s basically not even gwen lmao #but i’m literally just following the script of the characters in the movie sooo #fem reader #this is bullshit

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Favourite Experiment- Sherlock Holmes x Reader (Part Seven)

A/N: Sorry for the delay between chapters! Uni just started and it threw a cog into the works but I’m getting there! Enjoy!

Word Count: 5.4k

Yourself and Sherlock read through the file on your way to the suspect's house:

Jean Heaney, 68, died six months ago after a short battle with cancer. Heaney left behind two daughters: Jessica Heaney, 37, and Lauren Heaney, 32. Only three months after Jean's death, Jessica was found dead in her home. Death confirmed as Jessica being smothered by her pillow in her sleep. House offered no security- victim's son away for the evening at a friend's house.

"How old's the son?" You asked, passing Sherlock back his phone as you finished reading.

"Nine. Let himself in in the morning and found his mother upstairs."

"Is he with his father?" Sherlock shook his head.

"The boy's father, Jessica's ex husband, died seven years ago in a car accident. All immediate family have died excluding Lauren, but she is naturally unable to look after the boy while she's still considered a suspect- far too risky given we don't know the motive. I believe he has been taken in by the foster system for the time being." You nodded, sniffed a little.

"So if Lauren did kill Jessica, the boy has no other family to go to? He's just going to be alone?" Sherlock nodded, absentmindedly scrolling back through the file as the cab drove on. "Jesus.." You looked out of the window, resting your temple against the glass as your fingers dug into your palms, just enough to leave small indents in the skin. You squeezed a little harder until you felt warm fingers cover your own and stop the movements.

"You alright?" Sherlock's voice was unusually laced with concern.

"Yeah, sorry. It's just.. The ones with kids- they never get easier, do they? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that the boy is physically okay in this case but still.." You looked down at your hand, Sherlock removing his instantly and coughing into it. "Reason I keep my nails short; I don't even think about it anymore. John used to go crazy at me for it.” You laughed.  “I only stopped because when he saw he'd shove his hand or his arm in the way and he knew I wouldn't want to hurt him. I think Oz might’ve brought it back because he wasn't there. Just helps distract the brain for a moment, I think. I'll be alright once we get started." Sherlock nodded, passing you the phone to read through again- and if it seemed obvious that it was a clear distraction and to keep your hands busy, you didn't mention it.

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

The house you arrived at was a lovely little thing on a small estate- the kind where you could ask the neighbour to borrow a pint of milk and they wouldn't tell you to 'fuck off'. Natural port of call was making the rounds on the neighbours- asking people about Lauren, how she was as a neighbour, as a person. Steady conclusion gave the consensus of 'she's an angel', 'such a lovely young lady' and the likes.

After knocking on the door of Lauren Heaney, the young woman answered the door- a grin adorning her features as she happily let you into the house.

"You must be Mr Holmes and Miss Watson! That lovely gentleman from the police told me you'd be coming today. Could I interest you in some tea? Coffee?" You both declined the drinks but took the seat she then offered. "I'm not quite sure what else there is to speak about- I've run through so many people talking about what happened. I hadn't heard from Jess in a week before they turned up at the door to tell me she had.." Her smile dropped as she reached beneath the coffee table to grab at some Kleenex. "Oh, I am very sorry! It just doesn't get any easier to think about! She was my sister!" You had hoped upon entering this house that Sherlock was mistaken, that Lauren didn't kill her sister and she would take in her nephew and all would be good in this world. However, that blissful thought was chucked in the bin the moment she pulled the crocodile tears- you'd seen better acting in Eastenders.

"I understand completely, Miss Heaney. My colleague and I are simply here to gain some clarification on the circumstances as we are experts in our field. We will do whatever it takes to find the person who did this to your sister." You reached forward, circled your hand against her wrist in a feigned act of comfort but left your index and middle finger against her veins- pulse increased. Panic. Stress. Anxiety.. Shit. You sat back, nodded at Sherlock.

"So, Miss Heaney, I'm afraid I do have to ask you a few questions that you most likely have been asked before, but it's just to get an accurate report." Sherlock began, pulling out a notebook and a pen. "Where were you on the night that Jessica Heaney was murdered?" Lauren took a breath, sat back in her chair.

"I was home. Wasn't much going on- it was a Wednesday, you see. Ever since I left home ten years ago, Wednesdays would be the day that my mother and I would meet up; just do some puzzles, have some dinner. But, obviously, that hasn't been able to be the case for a while now. So I stay home, have a glass of wine in her memory and watch the telly." She spoke calmly, her speech rehearsed. Sherlock opened his mouth to say his next question when the front door opened.

"Darling? They didn't have any of your vanilla cappuccinos in Asda, but I've picked up some vanilla lattes for you to try? It's still Nescafe so I fi- oh. Hello?" A young gentleman had walked into the room. Lauren reached her hands out towards the man, beckoned him to her. He kissed her lovingly on the cheek and perched on the arm of her chair.

"Thomas, sweetheart, these are just a couple detectives come to talk through what happened with Jess."

"Oh, have you found out some new information? Caught the person that did it?" The man, Thomas, asked. You shook your head.

"I'm afraid not, sir. Just a protocol visit to establish a complete report our end of what happened that night." Thomas slid from the arm to the actual sofa, wrapping his hand around Lauren and pulling her close.

"Do you not think Lauren has suffered enough from you people asking her all of these ridiculous questions? Have some humanity! Her sister was murdered, you need to be out there catching the bastard that did that rather than interrogating my girlfriend." He spat, throwing his hands about all over the place. Sherlock cut in.

"I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Thomas Blackburn; Lauren's boyfriend."

"I see, and is this a new arrangement?"

"I can't see how that's any of your bloody busi-"

"Thomas, darling, calm down. Let the people do their jobs and we could be a step closer to finding justice for Jess." She turned to Sherlock. "I'm sorry, Mr Holmes. Thomas and I's story is a funny one, actually. You see, Thomas works with the funeral agency, but only on occasion. When he's needed, Mr Stevens from the parlour calls Thomas in when he needs a hand. Thomas was there at my mother's funeral six months ago. Naturally, I was absolutely distraught, but Jess was too preoccupied with her son, Ted, to pay me any mind- which is completely understandable, and I'd never hold it against her. Mum was never a real social butterfly so her funeral attendees were in low number; Jess and I invited the staff along to the wake as a thanks for their work. Thomas and I spent most of the evening talking together but then I was so emotional that I had forgotten to ask for his number before I left! And I know what you're probably thinking.. Think that it's terrible to pull a guy at a funeral.." You shook your head, forcing a warm smile.

"Not at all, Miss Heaney. Love can be found in the most mysterious of places, but that doesn't make any of those places a bad one." She returned your smile and rested her head on Thomas' shoulder.

"I tried to find him on social media but he's completely off the grid! Then I asked back at the parlour for his number but they refused to give it to me for the sake of Thomas' privacy. A couple months go down the line and the terrible news of what happened to Jessica came around. I was the only one left to arrange her funeral and, as luck would have it, Thomas had been hired again that evening! I don't wish to use the term fate in such unfortunate circumstances, but Thomas has been my rock these last few months and it seems as though the universe just wanted us together! Is it truly so terrible, finding love in such a place?" You felt your heart drop to your stomach as everything pieced together. You needed out of there before things became unprofessional. Your fingers began to dig into your palm again until they suddenly didn't. Sherlock plastered a smile on his face, reached to his side and took your hand in his own.

"Not at all. It simply finds us where it finds us! We were at a brutal stabbing in an abattoir." His fingers dislodged yours from their place and wrapped around his. Lauren and Thomas looked briefly horrified but the former soon grinned. "Well, I honestly see no reason for us to be here. As your partner mentioned, you've clearly been hounded by too many of us. We shall be in contact as soon as we get any more information on your sister but, until then, we shall say goodbye." He stood up on his feet, pulling you towards him as Lauren rounded the sofas and headed to the front door to let you out.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting the two of you- and to briefly hear a story more wild than our own! The best of luck for Jess' case, I do hope you find the killer sooner rather than later- it would work as closure for us all, and perhaps even bring Ted to my home. Thank you." She shut the door behind her as she turned and Sherlock walked you over to the small park round the side of the estate, his hand staying in yours until you sat down at a bench.

"The bitch.. The fucking.. how?! How could you do that?" You hands settled in your lap, squeezed and scrunched at the base of your shirt. "Please correct me, Sherlock. Please tell me that she didn't kill her own sister on the off chance the bloke she chatted up at her mum's funeral would be there. Please tell me she hasn't left a child without his mother for a guy." The man beside you sighed, pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled.

"Lestrade? Get your people to Lauren Heaney's house to make the arrest ASAP.. Of course we're sure.. I'll text the details but we're going home.. Yes we have to.. Because we do.. Bye." He tucked the phone back and made the attempt to reach for you once more, his hand settling just on your shoulder as he spoke. "Come on, I'll get a cab and we'll just go home. Lestrade can finish this one up himself- I'm sure he's at least competent enough for that."

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

You didn't speak as Sherlock pulled you up from the bench, or when he ushered you into a cab. Nor did you say a word the entire journey back to Baker Street. But the minute you walked through the doors of 221, Sherlock assumed his presence wasn't welcomed and went to head up the stairs to his own flat. That was when you reached your hand out, grasped onto his Belstaff sleeve and spoke one word.

"Stay." Then another. "..Please?" Sherlock nodded his head and followed you into your flat, taking off his coat and sitting the pair of you down on the sofa. Within seconds, you leant your head on his shoulder, felt your eyes burn as tears threatened to fall.

"Shh.. It's okay." His voice was low and smooth, barely above a whisper as his hand reached around your back to rest against the side of your head.

"I'm sorry." You sniffed. "I know you don't do the whole human contact and soothing thing, and this is the third time you've had to do it today because I've been an idiot." Trying to shift to sit back up, Sherlock's hand pushed a little, urged you to stay. So you did. "It's just the kid. Kids always bloody get to me and it's my biggest stupid weakness. I've seen people that have killed for fun, or over a fiver, or any ridiculous little reason- but I just cannot fathom how somebody could leave a nine year old boy without a family on the off chance they'll see the bloke they spoke with for a couple of hours at a funeral. It's just.. It's.." You felt your nose burn as a sob threatened to escape.

"It's not weak.. It just proves that you're human; everybody has their little things that get to them." He spoke. "Mine was never a type of person, it was just certain people.. There's not many people like us, or that understand us, but your brother always has. I literally jumped into a bonfire to save him." He laughed a little at the memory and at just how crazy it was. "It's not stupid.. You're not stupid." You sniffed again, smiled.

"No? Just insufferable?"

"Only if your tears stain my shirt. This is my favourite one." Your laugh was muffled by his shirtsleeve, his chuckle rumbling enough that you felt the vibrations through his chest. Neither of you spoke after that. Your chest still felt tight with emotion- eyes stinging from lingering tears, cheeks itching from the track marks the salty drops left in their wake. With his spare hand, Sherlock had started to text Lestrade the details of your findings. It wasn’t overly long until you felt your eyelids become heavy, the weight of emotion becoming exhaustion as you allowed your eyes to close and your breathing to slow. Sherlock had released his hold on you, shuffled and edged your body until you were laying on his lap. Seconds had barely passed before you turned your form into him, nose pressing against his belly, one arm up holding onto the leg you were laying on. Sherlock felt his cheeks burn and his hands become clammy- sensations that had before been entirely foreign to him, but had come around relatively frequently over the last few days.

He rested one hand against your back, the other fisted to rest under his chin as he leant on the arm of the sofa.

Reading human behaviours was a skill that Sherlock had taken some pride in over the years, but he had to admit that, when it came to himself, he struggled piecing the behaviours together and matching them with suspected emotional responses. He kept his eyes staring forward as he delved into his mind palace, flicking through files and folders and hidden papers to find things to match his responses (because whatever deity out there knows he’d never stoop to asking Mycroft for help). Eventually he stumbled across a few things that made sense.. Things Sherlock hadn’t thought about in comparison to his own life.. Things stored in files so untouched that they’d accumulated dust in a hypothetical location.. He began studying more intently to make sure his thoughts were clear and coherent when the front door burst open.

“Right I know I was a bit of a dick but seriously, Sherlock, the sugar pot is the WORST place to store your rat poison and I deserved to be a bit pissed.”

“Shhh!” Sherlock’s eyes shot towards the door, finger raising from beneath his chin to over his lips in a matter of seconds. John raised his hands in front of him in surrender and circled round to the front of the sofa. “Very rude, storming into someone’s flat without knocking.”

“And so is trying to murder me with pesticide.” Sherlock waved his hand.

“Please, it was a weaker extract. Month in the ICU at the worst for ruptured stomach lining.. Likely coma inducing, so you should thank me for almost getting you over seven hundred hours of interrupted sleep.” John fought the urge of putting Sherlock in a coma using his fist, and instead turned his attention to you.

“Speaking of uninterrupted sleep..?” He nodded towards your position on Sherlock’s lap- body tucked up in the foetal position, fingers pressing into the man’s thigh. “What happened?”

“Case. Nothing overly bad, just a murder between siblings. But the woman that was murdered.. she had a kid..”

“Christ, she’s never been good with the kid ones.. What’s happened then? Boy taken in by his dad?” Sherlock shook his head.

“Father’s dead.. So are grandparents. Father had no siblings, and his only other relative..”

“His aunt who murdered his mum.. brilliant.” John’s tongue pressed in his cheek. “Do you want me to take over? Not really your bag, this. Won’t be the first time I’ve had to comfort her after one of these.. though it makes a change that it won’t be over video call.” Sherlock would be lying if he said he wasn’t reluctant, but he knew that he should move. John was far better suited for the soothing aspects of emotional distress- Sherlock was typically better at causing it. So the curly haired man simply nodded, said nothing as he attempted to wiggle his way from your grasp.

“Don’t..” Your voice was groggy from sleep and crying, but you had enough strength in your dozed state to slide your hand from Sherlock’s thigh round to his back, gripping his shirt. “Please, Sherlock?” The man in question could only look up at John, silently asking him what he should do. The elder Watson was marginally baffled. Even when you were kids, it was very unlikely that you’d go to anybody for comfort-especially physically- other than John, and yet here you were clinging to a man you’d known for less than a week.

“Are you.. alright with it?” Your brother asked the man on the sofa.

“It’s.. acceptable.”

“Acceptable?”

“Fine. It’s fine. It’s alright, go about doing whatever it was you were planning to do before we came back home.”

“I’m meeting up with Greg, actually. Text him this morning. Just said he’s got some papers to go through so I figured I’d loiter at the Yard for a bit.”

“Mmm.. Holmes support group, is it? For.. misplacing.. some experiment equipment?” Sherlock asked, brows raising to the shorter man.

“Misplaci-“ John’s lips pulled in a tight frown, huffing, finger poking out to point at Sherlock as he shifted foot to foot. “It was sodding rat poison in the sugar pot-“ He breathed in to raise his voice, but cut himself short remembering your were slumbering nearby. “How do you even know about the- don’t answer that, actually. I don’t care.”

“Are you going to go then? Are you going? Have you gon-“

“Yes, Sherlock. Christ. And Y/N’s definitely alright with you? You’re not going to have a panic and leave her alone because she’s got a bit weepy?”

“Despite your assurances, I do, in fact, have some care for others. Not a complete machine.” Sherlock knocked on his head with his knuckle. “Bone, muscle and flesh- not android.” John nodded, headed to the door.

“Just let me know if she gets worse and I’ll come home.” Sherlock agreed to John’s request, closed his eyes and settled back into his mind palace to pick back up the papers he had thrown in a huff when John came in and distracted him.

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

The time ticked by and Sherlock had remained with his eyes closed, flicking between notes to try and come to a form of conclusion on his behaviours. He felt he’d almost got to the end of it when you stirred in his lap, fingers flexing between his leg and the flesh of his stomach. At the sensation, Sherlock felt his stomach seem to flip- almost like he was going to be sick, but the nausea wasn’t unpleasant. Weird. He filed away the new piece of information for later.

“Oh God, I hope I didn’t snore.” You spoke, rolling onto your back, head staying on Sherlock’s thighs.

“You didn’t.. Spoke a lot, though.”

“Really? That’s new. What did I say?”

“Nothing much.. just the odd ‘I wish I was as smart as Sherlock’ and then even a murmured ‘Sherlock is so devilishly handsome and clever, I’m so lucky to work with him.” Sherlock teased.

“Nice try, Holmes.. but I’d never use the word ‘devilishly’. At least make it believable.” You grinned, rubbing your eyes and stretching your bent legs out on the sofa.

“Of course! How silly of me to have not memorised an entire glossary of your commonly used words and phrases.”

“Precisely. Think it through.” Sherlock smiled down at you, shaking his head with a sense of fondness.

“Are you alright?” He asked seriously, eyes avoiding contact with yours as he felt a bit awkward taking your current position in account- apparently it’s only okay if he’s the layer and you’re the cushion; this way feels odd.. You nodded back, swivelling your body to sit up.

“Better. Despite your boney nature, you’re actually quite comfortable.. Think I’ll be making use of those thighs in the future.” Sherlock blinked. “Yeah, that sounded weird. My bad. Blame it on the fatigue.” You stretched your arms out in front of you, flexing your fingers a little. “Fancy a brew?”

“I’ve got it.” He pushed your body back against the sofa and headed to the kitchen himself. Rather than heading straight for the kettle, Sherlock began to rummage through your cupboards and the fridge, pulling out numerous pots and pans. You glanced over at him over the back of the sofa, eyebrow raised.

“What’s this then? Fancied some chicken with your coffee?” You asked, watching as the man covered the countertops with chicken breasts, some bacon and a box of eggs.

“I’m.. making dinner?”

“Is that a ‘I want to make it but I don’t know how’ or ‘I want to make it, am I allowed’?”

“The latter.”

“Oh.. Yeah, course you’re allowed. I just didn’t take you as the kind of person who could cook.. consider that a deduction I missed- must be good at hiding that one.” You left the sofa to wander into the kitchen, hopping up on the one part of the counter that hadn’t been covered in food.

“Just another form of science.. exacting temperatures, balancing and weighing ingredients.. it’s just edible.” He spoke as he threw some spaghetti into a pan.

“And..”

“..And John is quite good at cooking when he can be bothered, so I’ve observed him a few times.”

“I’ll agree with you there. Jammy git always managed to impress Mum with his dinners- I was lucky if I didn’t set the house on fire when I microwaved soup.” You reflected on the memories- John sauntering around the kitchen and throwing random things he found in the cupboard together to produce some Michelin Star dish. “So, what’s on the menu tonight, Gordon?”

“Ramsay?”

“Very good.” You praised, tapping the top of his head as he diced up the bacon strips.

“Chicken Carbonara. Can you pass me those eggs?” You did as asked, watching Sherlock gracefully crack some into a bowl, and separate the yolks from others. He cooked the chicken and bacon in a pan, eventually taking the pasta off heat and adding that in too. He stirred in the eggs until it was cooked- sprinkling on a dusting of Parmesan.

“So.. Brutal stabbing in an abattoir, huh? Some little romantic fantasy of yours?” Sherlock laughed, dishing the food out onto your plates.

“Better than hooking up at my Mum’s funeral.” He shrugged. “I had a full story lined up. I’m slightly disappointed that she didn’t ask.”

“I’ll ask then.. Go on, what’s our story of falling in love at an abattoir stabbing?”

“The killer was still in the building, so we went running after him. He started to think he was clever, winding his ways through the freezer sections.. But then you pulled on one of the levers that rotated the hooks and knocked him over with a disembowelled pig’s carcass. I swiftly put him in cuffs while I waited for Graham to catch up, and you fell- much like the killer, only metaphorically- head over heels in love with me.” He concluded, clapping his hands together and passing you a plate.

“Wait a minute.. I fell in love with you because you cuffed someone? Not you falling in love with me for the pig carcass gladiator moment? Seems backwards.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a two way system. You’ve not seen me place someone under citizen’s arrest, so you wouldn’t understand. I’m absolutely dashing.” You opened your mouth to speak but Sherlock shoved a forkful of pasta in before words could come out. “Eat, it’s getting cold.”

Neither of you made any attempt to move; you stayed on the counter with the plate on your lap, Sherlock standing beside you with his in his hands. After you chewed the spaghetti that had been forced into your mouth, your eyes widened slightly, reflexes taking over as you slapped the back of your hand against Sherlock’s chest and he choked around his fork.

“Christ, Sherlock, this is good! Really bloody good!” The man dabbed the corner of his mouth with his knuckle in an attempt to clear up the choking aftermath and flushed, staring into the food on his plate as though it were the most interesting thing in the room.

“It’s John’s recipe, I just copied what he does.”

“Sherlock, I’ve tried copying John’s cooking for the last fifteen years and could just about make scrambled eggs. This is impressive, take the compliment.”

“Well.. thanks?”

“Good.” You ate another mouthful, swallowed before speaking again. “Why don’t you cook more often? I’ve heard John complain about you never doing things around the flat- he’d love this.”

“I don’t cook for anyone.. Not usually, anyway. It’s, uh.. quite new.. very new, I suppose.” He stammered a little, shutting himself up with another forkful. “Plus, if John knew, he’d make me do it more and I wouldn’t like it anymore.”

“Well, consider me very much honoured, Mr Holmes. And I can only hope you’ll cook for me again; our little secret.. Even if I have to cry for a little bit first to earn it.” You joked. Sherlock shook his head.

“You don’t. I’ll cook for you when you want it, if you want me to. Especially if you don’t cry.” He coughed out a little. “I don’t want anymore shirts staining.” He ended with a smirk, poking his fork around his plate. You agreed to his terms and offered a hand for him to shake, grinning.

////////

After dinner, the pair of you found yourselves sat back on the sofa- neither of your wanting to lay down after such a full meal. Despite the relatively large size of your sofa, Sherlock had sat himself right beside you, his knee occasionally knocking into yours as he shifted in his space. You weren’t entirely sure why he’d chosen the proximity, but you weren’t going to make a point of it either. You were quickly working your way through The Office, having now reached the end of the second series and watching your way through ‘Casino Night’. The pair of you had decided to finish the series before Sherlock would go back upstairs and answer the many questions Lestrade had sent to him throughout the evening about the earlier case- especially since John had sent a (barely decipherable) drunken message about twenty minutes ago saying he was on his way home and Sherlock didn’t fancy another round of ‘you tried to kill me with rat poison.’

Watching the screen as the episode came to a close, you both stared as Pam and Jim headed back into the office, you grinning knowingly just before Jim finally pulled Pam in for a kiss. As they pulled away, the screen went dark and the credits rolled.

“That’s how they’re ending it? There?!” Sherlock was all but on the edge of his seat. Quickly, he spun to his side to face you. “But Pam pulled back? Is that a bad thing? Is she going to ignore it again?! God, they’re so explicitly in love with each other than even I can bloody see it. This is infuriating.” You could only laugh as he got so riled up about the show. “It’s not funny, you’ve ruined me. I’ve spent years perfecting a way to only fill my brain with useful information, and now I have a file on all the reasons that prove Jim and Pam logically need to be together.” He huffed.

“And they didn’t even need a stabbing in an abattoir..” You teased.

“Can we watch one more?”

“Sherlock, John’s going to be back soon and you need to help Greg out so he can finish his papers in the morning.”

“At least tell me if they stay together by the next series.”

“That’s spoiling.” Sherlock placed both hands on your shoulders, shaking you a little.

“You have to tell me or I’ll be annoyed all night. It only makes sense that they stay together, they clearly love each other. They have inside jokes, and laugh about everyone else they work with, and clearly care about each other more than others and— why are you laughing at me?” You couldn’t help letting out another laugh, shaking your head at Sherlock and how he’d become so invested in a comedy show that aired over sixteen years ago. “Stop it.. Stop laughing, you’re worse than John.. Stop.” He moved his hands to hold the side of your face and cover your mouth to hush you, beginning to laugh himself as you fought against him. Eventually you both calmed, the hand covering your mouth dropping to fall back into his lap as you both let out small breaths of laughter- staring at each other and grinning like idiots. Even after you stopped, neither of you moved. The thumb of the hand that Sherlock left on your face brushed at your cheekbone softly, your own hand slowly lifting to grip onto his upper arm as you shuffled closer.

Sherlock’s heart began to race in his chest as his body moved without his mind’s consent- entirely unaware of what he was doing, what he was supposed to be doing, and what the hell this meant. Just as you felt Sherlock’s other hand press against your side, you heard the door to 221 slam open, the loud voice of your inebriated brother booming outside your own door.

“I’m hooooooome.” He sang, knocking on your door and then shuffling to the stairs- the sound of his footsteps making it evident that it was a bit of a struggle. You breathed out another laugh, dropping your head forward so your chin touched your chest.

“I should probably uh.. go. He’s going to-uh.. need help getting to bed.” Sherlock stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper as his hands dropped from your form and he moved to stand up. You nodded, standing with him and heading over to your door. Before he opened it to leave, you wrapped your arms around his middle for a moment.

“Thank you, again. For helping after the case, and for dinner.. and for making ‘Casino Night’ a little bit funnier.” You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, providing you don’t trigger a hungover John to kill you.” Sherlock only nodded and headed out, walking straight over to his flatmate and helping him up to 221B.

After shutting the door, you headed into your bedroom and flopped on the bed, sighing up to the ceiling.

.

.

.

.

TAGLIST: @momos-peaches , @starryeddie , @ask-the-elf-stuff , @lie-ana , @lov3vivian , @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13​ , 

#sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #bbc sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock holmes x you #reader insert #sherlock x you smut #sherlock x reader smut #sherlock holmes x reader smut #sherlock holmes x you smut #bbc sherlock x reader smut #bbc sherlock holmes x reader smut #bbc sherlock x you smut #bbc sherlock holmes x you smut #sherlock holmes fic #sherlock holmes fanfic #Sherlock #sherlock fic #sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fic #bbc sherlock fanfic #greg lestrade #gregory lestrade #lestrade #mycroft holmes #mycroft

[urne-buriall]

Is there any chance we get a Dean /Cas Wedding in the

time is ours verse? 🥰

my real life attitude about marriage and weddings is lacklustre, but when it comes to Dean and Cas I just. yeah. those men WANT to be married to each other. and I want it for them. and I have made a habit of one or the other of them bringing it up in my fics because it deeply satisfies something in my hindbrain. in "young hearts" present-day Dean, after dating Cas for a week, tells Sam: “I’m gonna marry him. Proper.”

so while I never went so far as picturing a wedding, the desire is there for both Dean & Cas and Teen-Dean & Past-Cas. and weirdly I think each pair would want the other couple in attendance if it were at all possible. I like to imagine very time-confused family visits over the years, where Young Dean is an exhausted 27-year-old dad relieved to collapse into a folding camp chair at Jody's yearly barbeque while mid40s Dean and Cas bicker over whose turn it is to hold the baby.

so while I do see a wedding happening, twice, I don't know what they'd look like!

this is where I always say if you have ideas about how things would shake out, tell me in a message or tag me in a post because there are no wrong answers. it's all fair game and I'd be excited to hear

and, for some bonus content on this topic, a scene from Chester, California (World 2) on Wednesday, November 27, 2002:

backstory: Sam's brought Jessica to Dean's for Thanksgiving, but he left out an important detail about Dean's life-mate house-mate Cas.

Cas was outside in his garden, staking out his plot so that he could cover the plants and spare them from the frosty temperatures expected later that weekend.

Dean approached and stood at the edge of the garden for a moment. Cas continued his work.

“Can you pass me those two stakes?” Cas said, first to break the silence.

Dean picked up the stakes, stepped carefully between the rows of the garden, and handed them over. Cas’ fingers traced against the edge of his hand as he took them.

“Cas,” said Dean.

Cas looked over his shoulder, kneeling as he pressed one of the stakes securely into the ground. Anyone else might’ve needed a hammer to do it. “Yes?”

“Sam didn’t tell Jessica,” said Dean. “She doesn’t know we’re together.”

Cas tipped his head at an angle, like he didn’t see the problem yet. He likely cut through to the easiest solution. If Jess doesn’t know, then tell her. Dean sighed.

“He doesn’t know if she’ll be cool or not. And now they’re here, doesn’t seem like the time to spring it on her, I guess? Like it’d be unfair to her. Like it isn’t unfair to us.”

Cas pushed the second stake into the ground, then stood. “We don’t let her know we are romantic,” he stated, making sure he grasped what Dean wanted to say.

Dean nodded. He looked up from the ground to Cas, his green eyes clear as glass against the grey of the sky.

“Don’t look sad,” said Cas. “When you look sad I want to kiss you.”

Dean laughed, glancing away. “What about the rest of the time?” he said.

“Then, too,” said Cas.

Dean didn’t want to be made to smile, not when he was pissed, but Cas knew the trick of it.

“We pretend to be friends when we visit with Rick and Janice,” said Cas. “And with Corey, Kyle, and Brent. And in town, in public.”

“It’s different at our own house,” said Dean. “I wasn’t planning to be all over you in front of them, but I didn’t think we’d be keeping secret.”

“Future-Dean and Future-Cas didn’t have to hide,” said Cas. “When does that change?”

“I think we’ve got a long way to go,” said Dean. “Did you know gay marriage was legal where they were? I didn’t ask when it happened. I should’ve.”

“They weren’t so far in the future.”

“Far enough. Not all of us have your scale of time, Cas.”

“I don’t need to marry you,” said Cas.

“Oh,” said Dean. He looked down at the ground. It hurt, weirdly, even though Cas wouldn’t have intended it to sound like that. He tried to joke, “I see how it is. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”

Cas frowned. He still had difficulty with metaphors. “I don’t need to marry you to understand how I love you,” he clarified, unsure if that agreed or disagreed with Dean’s abstraction about cows.

“I love you too, Cas,” said Dean, still looking at the leafy potato plants between them. “Course I do. Still wanna marry you, though.”

“What would it change?” Cas asked, sincerely.

Dean shook his head. “Nothin’. Only, it’s a nice thing to have.”

“You deserve to have nice things,” said Cas.

“So do you,” said Dean. “I’d be a real fucking good husband to you, Cas.”

“Is it… Do you think that if we married, we’d no longer have to pretend?” said Cas. “Is that it?”

“Maybe,” Dean said, gaze lifting but still not finding Cas, looking at the mountains around them like he was trying to stay detached. “Nobody can argue with you when you’re married by law, right? Nobody could tell you you’re wrong.”

It was a fantasy, but it wasn’t one that Cas would seek to shatter with practical commonsense.

“It would be an honour to marry you,” said Cas.

Dean folded his arms over his stomach, holding himself in tightly. “You know, sometimes it actually hurts to stay away from you?” he said. He looked over his shoulder at the house, where Jessica might not even be looking out. “I don’t know how I’m gonna make it.”

#time has come today #destiel fic #asks #fic snippet #did not plan to share any of this but here we go #I am nothing if not a hypocrite

[spencerreidismyonetruelove]

Spoiled on Valentine’s Day

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

CW: SMUT (18+), Oral (Male receiving), Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex, Cowgirl Position

A/N: This fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely @90spumkin about surprising Hotch on Valentine’s Day. I am posting this at 11:55 pm so technically, it is still Valentine’s Day! I hope you all had a wonderful day, and I hope you enjoy!

Another holiday he missed because of work. The case took longer than the team had originally thought, but they had finally found the unsub and were on the jet on their way home. The problem was they weren’t going to land until 2200. Which means he wasn’t going to get home until 2330 at the earliest. Aaron sat back in his seat and sighed, placing his pen down on top of the paperwork in front of him.

“You okay, Hotch?” Morgan asked him, raising an eyebrow as he looked up and across the table at him.

“Of course,” Aaron answered automatically. “I’m just tired.” He rubbed a hand over his face before glancing down at his phone. His lock screen showed a picture of himself, Jack, and Y/N laughing at the park. It was a fun afternoon and it brought a small smile to the corner of his mouth.

“You’re bummed that you missed Valentine’s Day, aren’t you?” Morgan asks quietly so no one overhears their conversation. He gives Aaron a small smile and a reassuring look.

“I just feel guilty,” Aaron sighs softly. “Y/N puts up with so much because of this job. I was hoping to be able to spoil her for Valentine’s Day.” He rubs a hand over his face again as he grimaces. “It’s just not fair to her.”

“She loves you,” Morgan reassures him. “She knows what the job entails and she understands that even if you miss a few holidays or events, that you love her too. And, hey, you don’t need a holiday to spoil your lady. Just ask Penelope.” He smirked at the older man with a twinkle in his eye.

“Morgan, I do not need to know how you spoil your ‘baby girl,’” Aaron chuckled. “I am still your boss.”

“The point is,” Morgan laughed. “You can spoil her anytime. It’s not as big of a deal as you think to miss one Valentine’s Day.”

“Thanks, Morgan. I’ll keep that in mind,” Aaron replied with a little sarcasm. Although if he thought about it, the younger man had a point. Maybe he would have to take Y/N on a weekend retreat just because. He knew she’d love some time away from her own job.

~~~~~~~~~~

When they landed at Quantico, Aaron sent Y/N a text to let her know he’d landed safely and he’d be home soon.

2204 Aaron: Just landed. I should be home around 2345. I have some last minute things to do here at the office. I love you.

What he didn’t expect is that she’d text him back almost immediately.

2205 Y/N: Glad to hear you’re safe. I’ll see you soon! I love you too! xoxo

Aaron smiled at his phone and headed to his office to try and finish his paperwork as quickly as he could.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was 2340 when he arrived home. Aaron let himself into the apartment as quietly as he could in case Y/N had fallen asleep. Jack was at Jessica’s, so he would pick him up in the morning. He slipped off his shoes, placed his bag by the door, and secured his gun in the safe. Aaron could see a soft glow coming from the bedroom door which was cracked open slightly. He noticed that the light was flickering slightly as he got closer. Aaron pushed the door open gently and was rooted to the spot just inside the doorway.

Y/N was laying across the bed in a set of red and black lace lingerie that left very little to his imagination. The room was filled with small candles that were giving off just the right amount of light to make her look like a dream spread across their bed. She smiled sweetly at him as his eyes followed along the curve of her body. “Hi,” she whispered so softly he barely heard it.

“Well, hi yourself,” Aaron murmured. “Did you get all dressed up for me for Valentine’s Day, pretty girl?”

She nodded, “Yes, Daddy.” And she slipped off of the bed to walk towards him. She held out her hand, and taking his, led him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I wanted to do something nice for you since you work so hard.” She reached up and gently loosened his tie. Slipping it off, she laid it to the side and began undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Sweetheart,” He murmured, bringing a hand up to cup Y/N’s cheek. He couldn’t help but smile as she leaned into his touch. “I’m the one who is supposed to spoil you for Valentine’s Day.” Once Y/N had pushed his shirt from his shoulders, he pulled her to him so she was standing between his legs with their chests where pressed together.

“Daddy,” She whispered as their noses brushed together, “You spoil me every day. Tonight it’s my turn.” She nuzzled her nose against his and kissed him softly.

Aaron felt his earlier guilt and worry melt away as his hands slid up her body to tangle in her hair. He deepened their kiss, slipping his tongue into her warm mouth. She moaned into the kiss and he tightened his hold on her. Eventually his need to breathe won out over his need for her, if only for the moment, Aaron pulled back slightly and panted as their foreheads rested against one another.

“Please,” She breathed against his lips, “Let me take care of you tonight.” Well, he couldn’t deny her when she asked so nicely. Aaron nodded and Y/N pulled back from him and slid to her knees between his legs. She ran her hand from his knees up his thighs towards the obvious bulge in his trousers. She looked up at him through her lashes as she gently undid his belt and curled her fingers under his waistband. Y/N pulled his trousers down painfully slowly and his erection sprung free. Once he was fully naked, her hands followed their previous path upward from his knees as she leaned forward to sweep her tongue up his length from base to tip.

Aaron let out a shaking breath as her lips wrapped around the head of his cock. She let her tongue flick across it, collecting and swallowing the precum that had already begun to bead up on the tip. “Fuck, Sweetheart,” Aaron moaned out as he placed one of his hands on the back of her head. She hollowed about her cheeks and hummed around him as she sunk deeper down his length. He let out a hiss as his finger tightened in her hair. Y/N began bobbing her head, taking him deeper and deeper, as one of her hands came up to cup his balls. Aaron let his head fall back as he moaned. Soon, Y/N’s nose was brushing against his stomach and she was swallowing around him, milking his length with the muscles of her throat.

As Aaron felt himself getting close, he gently pulled Y/N back and off of his cock. She let out a little whine as she looked up at him. “I wanna cum inside you, Princess.” Aaron explained as he helped her to her feet. He slid back onto the bed so his back was against the headboard. Aaron guided Y/N so she was straddling him with his cock at the entrance of her pussy. “I want you to ride me, Sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” He asked her as he rubbed his hands up and down her hips, feeling the soft lace of her negligee.

“Yes, Daddy,” Y/N replied sweetly as she slowly lowered herself onto him. She moaned as his length filled her and she leaned forward to nuzzle her face into his neck as she adjusted to the feeling of him inside of her. After a moment she rolled her hips once before beginning to move herself up and down on his member. It wasn’t long before she was bouncing on his cock letting out moans and whines that were music to his ears. Aaron’s own moans joined hers in a symphony accented by the sounds of their bodies against each other and the slight creak of the mattress beneath them.

As Aaron felt himself getting close to the edge once again, he reached down between them to rub circles on her clit. Y/N moaned loudly and leaned her head back, all the while never stopping her movements. “I want you to cum with me, Princess. I want to feel you come undone around me as you ride my cock.” Y/N’s moans melted into whimpers and gasps as she began to reach her own peak. When Aaron was just about to explode he leaned forward and latched onto her neck biting and sucking a deep purple bruise at her pulse point. That was enough to pull her over the edge, pulling him along with her. The two moaned loudly as they came together, before Y/N collapsed against his chest. Aaron wrapped his arms around her and rubbed small circles on her back. After her breathing slowed, he lifted her gently off of him and slipped out of the bed. “I’ll be right back,” he told her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Aaron grabbed his boxers off of the floor as he moved towards the bathroom. He cleaned himself up and put on the boxers before preparing a warm washcloth. When Aaron re-entered the bed room, he gently cleaned Y/N up before placing the washcloth on the nightstand and sliding into bed. “Thank you, Sweetheart,” he praised her as he pulled her into his arms beneath the covers. “I would consider myself spoiled.”

Y/N giggled as she curled up against his chest. “I love you, Aaron. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Aaron kissed the top of her head. “I love you too.” As they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, Aaron’s last thought was that he was glad he hadn’t missed Valentine’s Day after all.

#my fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #Aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #Aaron hotchner x Y/N #Aaron hotcher x fem!reader #hotch x reader #Daddy!​hotch #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert #criminal minds reader insert

[fanficimagery]

The Imprint Saga pt. 1

Summary: Imagine finding out the supernatural exists. You manage to keep a level head and even give the whole Imprint business a go, but your poor wolf had no idea just how stubborn you could be when you felt he or anyone else was in the wrong.

Words: 8.2K Warnings: This is absolutely ridiculous. I wrote it, loved it, edited it, and now I hate it. But I wrote three goddamn parts (currently writing pt. 3) and I refuse to delete any of it. With that said, the Reader gets a bit confrontational with those she doesn’t like and punches someone.

Moving to Forks for the start of your Junior year was not ideal, but your mom was in need of a better paying job and it just so happened that Forks General Hospital had a few open positions that needed filling. So after she gave you a week to pack up your room, the house, and have your high school transcripts transferred, your mom hired a moving truck to follow you over two hundred miles to your new home.

Everyone was curious about you and your mom, and it seemed like everyone knew everyone else's business so it was only a matter of time before the waitress at the local diner told everyone what she learned when she had made small talk with your mom. The town was also pretty dreary, but the beach in the next town over made up for it.

The first day of school has you waking up earlier than usual so you can drop your mom off at work before taking the car for yourself. Then after checking in at the main office to get your schedule and a slip of paper that needs to be signed by every teacher before being turned in at the end of the day, the day starts off exactly as you expected.

Every stare is immediately on you as you park your car, the murmurs starting as soon as you exit. Glancing around, unimpressed, you put your arms through the straps of your backpack and secure it snugly to you. Then pulling up the hood of your jacket, you head straight for the double doors.

Only halfway there, a student jumps out in front of you and snaps a picture of you. "You're Y/N Y/L/N," he grins, fiddling with his camera. "I'm Eric Yorkie, the eyes and ears of this place."

"Cool," you deadpan.

"Anything you need?" He then asks, clearly excited to be talking to you. "Tour guide, lunch date, a shoulder to cry on?" You can only blink in response and he readily continues on. "I'm on the paper and you're news, baby. Front page."

The clearly excitable and gossip go-to are people you tend to steer clear of, but something about this boy has you cracking a grin. He takes notice, practically shaking with excitement. "So long as you never call me baby again, I'll let you run whatever story you come up with."

"Yes!"

"And you have to dial down the eagerness from about a thirteen to a three. Take a breath, dude. I'm not that interesting."

"Nice." He tries so hard to seem cool and collected, but it's clearly not working. "Can I use that as a headline."

"Whatever." Eric keeps staring, almost like an eager puppy, and you sigh. "I'm gonna go. I want to acquaint myself with my locker and make sure I know how to follow this map. See you at lunch with those questions you no doubt are going to ask for that paper of yours." He seems like he's going to ask you something else, but you make a quick escape and leave him behind.

Finding your locker is fairly easy so long as you follow the numbers, but it's the classes that are a bit tricky. You're used to having all the classes in one building, either upstairs or downstairs, but the classes here are located in various buildings that make up the entire school.

You're not sure exactly sure which exit to take to find building E since apparently one side of the map ended up being cut off, so you walk up to the first couple you see standing by their lockers. The guy is pretty burly and the girl is ridiculously pretty for being a high school teenager. "Hey," the two teens tense, but you pay it no mind, "sorry to bother you, but can you tell me which way to go for building E? My map was cut off," you explain while showing them said map.

The burly boy blinks owlishly at you and the girl glares, but the only thing that pops into your head is that they have the most exotic eyes you've ever seen. "Oh. Uh sure." The boy takes the map from you, turning around to place it against a locker and finishes the map for you. As he hands it back, he says, "Just keep walking straight and take a left. Building E is that way."

You offer him a tired smile in return. "Thank you." Then glancing at the girl, your gaze falls to her feet. "Huh. Nice boots." Her glare softens, but you don't see it before you take your leave.

Classes then proceed to go exactly as expected, you getting your slip of paper signed before each class and then giving your name, the place you moved from, and a random fact for each teacher that asks you to introduce yourself to the class.

Lunch rolls around and you find an empty table, happily setting your tray down and tearing your hamburger to bite size pieces before eating them. That's where Eric finds you, Angela Weber in tow. The girl is someone you're most likely to befriend with her soft spoken nature and laid back personality. They ask questions about where you've moved from, your family, and your hobbies. You easily answer them, tossing in a crass joke or two that has Angela snorting milk from her nose and Eric taking a picture of the aftermath as you smirk at the poor girl.

Lauren, Tyler, Mike, and Jessica make their appearance at your table then, and you immediately dislike them. They're loud, rude, and obnoxious. The girls clearly have jealousy issues of some sort and the boys are only interested in what your dating life is like. But through them you learn about the Cullen clan.

"Oh my god," Jessica suddenly muses. "Don't look now, but Alice Cullen is staring at you!"

You frown when you realize she's addressing you. "Who?"

"Alice Cullen? Don't you know who they are by now?!"

"Uh no?"

Lauren smirks, leaning forward in her seat as if she's preparing to tell you the juiciest piece of gossip. "The Cullen and Hale twins are pretty much royalty around here, even if they don't give anyone the time of day." She gestures to the table in question and it's then you realize two of the so-called royalty are the couple you approached earlier that morning. "They've all been adopted by Dr. Cullen and his wife since she can't have any kids."

"Wow. Okay one, rude. All you had had to say was that Dr. Cullen and his wife adopted them. There is no need to tell anyone about Mrs. Cullen allegedly being infertile." Lauren, Jessica, and the boys gape at you, but Angela hides her smile behind her cup. "And two, why should it matter if they're staring? Are you really that starstruck over a bunch of teenagers?"

"B-Because they're the Cullen’s!" Jessica practically whisper shouts. "They're like together-together- Rosalie and Emmett, and Alice and Jasper- and they never pay attention to anyone, and- oh god, now Edward is looking over here!"

Jessica is on the verge of swooning and you roll your eyes, sighing. "Jesus Christ," you mutter. "You really need to pull yourself together. They're kids like you and I, albeit better looking, but still kids nonetheless. It's like you're desperate for their attention."

"Well yeah," Lauren scoffs. "You should feel lucky they're even looking in your direction."

"Gross," you utter. Jessica and Lauren are now looking at you in disbelief and annoyance, and the boys have clearly busied themselves with gossip of their own when the Cullen’s were mentioned. Lightly clearing your throat, you stand up and pick up your tray. "Well it was nice talking to you, Eric and Angela. I'll see you around. Maybe."

You dump your tray and then make your way out of the cafeteria building, easily finding your next class since Emmett Cullen had fixed your map. You then proceed to have a class with Edward Cullen- he nodding in greeting when you catch his gaze, a nod which you return- and a class with Alice Cullen who is practically bouncing in her seat when the teacher sits you next to her. She's a little too perky for your likes, so you merely grin before immediately pulling out your spiral notebook and taking notes from the board.

Your last class of the day is your history class which you end up sitting next to Jasper Hale. He's very tense and quiet, and seems both interested yet terrified of your presence, so you don't pay him much mind after nodding at him when you take your seat.

All in all, your classes are decent and you've literally only spoken to one person in the entire that you can find yourself wanting to spend time with outside of school. Angela.

It doesn't take long for the teens of Forks High to realize you're not afraid to speak your mind when they annoy you, and you found yourself only ever seeking out Angela. And out of all the Cullen’s it's Alice who seemed most interested in befriending you, but you weren't really interested. You were polite when she approached you, but you never really offered to hang out with her or take her up on her offer to go shopping. And while every other student found it offensive that you've turned her down, her family found it rather amusing.

Jasper eventually slightly warmed up to you since your teacher had partnered you up with him for a project, so you found it rather easy explaining to him that you weren't really the type of girl Alice needed in her life. He chuckled at your explanation of cheery people not being your cup of tea, but that you didn't have the heart to tell Alice yourself, and promised to let her down easy for you. You sighed in relief, thanked him, and then got back to taking notes.

Fortunately for you, Bella Swan came to Forks and Alice found a new girl to set her attention on.

It's the weekend, and you and your mom are feeling up to spending a day on the beach. And since it's chilly out, your mom makes a few phone calls to La Push to make sure that you won't be getting in trouble if you were to make a fire on the beach. So after purchasing a small shovel and some easy to light wood that would keep your fire going, she drives the two of you down to La Push Beach.

You find the perfect place to have your fire, next to a rather large piece of driftwood that appears as if it'd make the perfect backrest. You dig a shallow hole while your mom makes a teepee of wood before lighting it, and then the two of you plop yourselves down and just breathe in the salty ocean air.

"So how are you liking school, darling?" Your mom asks as she pulls forward a bag of snacks and drinks. "We haven't really had time to sit and talk."

You shrug. "School is school. Met a few people I can actually call friends."

"That's wonderful!"

"But I also made more enemies, so.."

"Y/N," she groans and you laugh. Eventually she grins at you. "What'd they do?"

"They were either too chipper for me to handle or they let their insecurities get the better of them which turned them into snarky assholes."

"Anything in particular you didn't like?"

"Oh. Loads," you say, "but I would rather not get into it. It's done and over with, and I'm perfectly fine with having Angela and Jasper as my only go-to friends."

"If you say so."

"I do. How's the hospital?"

"Oh I love it," your mom suddenly gushes. "I honestly think this might be the place we finally settle down. The only complaint I have about the hospital is that the staff is ridiculously obsessed with Dr. Cullen and his good looks."

You snort. "Seriously? Everyone at school, some teachers included, are freakishly obsessed with Dr. Cullen's adopted children."

Your mom giggles. "Are they pretty too?"

"Very pretty," you sigh. "I'm on pretty decent terms with all of them. Jasper, however, is the only one I tend to seek out if I'm in need of sitting in silence with someone. He's quiet, but he's got a wicked sense of humor when he's comfortable enough to show it."

"Oohh. Do I sense a future boyfriend?"

"Oohh," you tease back, "no." Your mom frowns and you laugh. "Dr. Cullen's children are all seeing each other," you then admit. "Jasper and Rosalie Hale are Mrs. Cullen's niece and nephew, and Edward, Alice, and Emmett were adopted by Dr. Cullen. Jasper and Alice are dating, as are Rosalie and Emmett. Edward's got this weird thing going on with the other new girl Bella."

"Oh. Um that's a bit-"

"Weird? I mean yeah, but they're not actually related so it's legal. I think." You chuckle, shaking your head and tossing a pringle at your mom.

The two of you lapse into silence, you eventually retrieving your polaroid camera from the car to take a few pictures. You both decide to dip your feet into the ocean water, squealing not even a second later when it proves to be too cold. Then when you and your mom have finally had enough of the beach for the day, she starts gathering your trash while you prepare to turn out the fire.

But before you can throw the first batch of sand on it, a voice calls out to stall you. "Wait! If you're done with the fire, do you mind if my fiancée and I use it?"

You turn around to find a rather tall, muscular and tan individual. The woman at his side barely comes up to his shoulders and she smiles timidly, her hair hiding some pretty fresh facial scars. "Not at all." You dump the sand off your shovel, smiling in greeting. "We just put some wood on, so it should still burn for a bit."

The man smiles. "I'm Sam. This is Emily." The woman waves, a wave which you return.

"Y/N. And the crazy lady who has yet to speak up is my mom [enter mom's name here]."

"Hey!" You smirk, glancing over your shoulder as your mom joins you. "I'm not that crazy." She winks as she joins you, introducing herself to Sam and Emily.

"So you guys new to town?" Sam wonders.

"To Forks," she says.

"Yeah. We moved here about two months ago now. But I love the beach, so we decided to make a day of it." Sam and Emily nod in understanding. "But we should be going now. You guys have a fire to enjoy. It was nice meeting you."

"You as well," Emily softly says. "I hope we run into each other again."

"You will," your mom says. "I swear Y/N was a mermaid in another life. She loves the ocean."

"Either that or a wild animal. I'm kind of drawn to the forests around here. It's.. peaceful."

"They can be," Sam says, "but they can also be very dangerous. If you go hiking, go with a friend. A group is better."

"Duly noted, my dude."

"And on that note," your mom says, "we really should be going. Hope you two have a nice night."

"You as well," Sam replies as you and your mom take your leave.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.

Your friendship with Angela had ended up leading you to being introduced to Bella, and you surprisingly found yourself with someone else you could call a friend. She doesn't tend to gossip or talk about anyone's insecurities, and she somehow manages to pick up on your moods pretty well. So when your mom can't make it to your beach trips, you tend to take Bella and/or Angela.

And on the days you go alone to the beach or your with your mom, Sam and/or Emily manage to find you.

The start of your Senior year is exciting and you're already looking forward to graduation. But not even two months into your Senior year, the Cullen’s decide to move away. You're sad to see Jasper go, but you completely understand and tell him and Alice to send postcards or knick knacks from wherever they make stops at. Healing crystals are your favorite just because they're pretty and you like to line them on your shelves, and Alice promises to send some really pretty ones.

Bella, however, seems to take their absence really hard. No amount of talking to her helps, so you give her some space. And in distancing yourself, you find yourself visiting La Push Beach more and more, and spending time with Emily.

It's there with Emily that you first meet Paul Lahote, Sam's newest friend.

"Hey Em, Paul and I are going to grill some burgers. You need anything from the market?"

"No, honey. I'm good."

"Y/N?"

Looking up from the crackling fire, you say, "Yes, Samuel?" Sam's friend snorts and you turn glittering eyes on him. "Hi. I'm Y/N."

Sam's friend looks right at you, his posture and expression going lax by the second. Your expression falters, even as you do your best to keep up a smile. Sam notices, frowns, and then smothers laughter as he elbows his friend. "Oh. Um, I'm Paul."

"Nice." You look back at Sam, grinning. "Can you bring some hot Cheetos?"

"Sure thing." Paul seems perfectly content looking at you, so Sam has to grasp him by the shoulder. "Let's go, Lahote. If Y/N doesn't get her hot Cheetos soon, she'll get cranky."

You don't deny his statement, only grinning wider and shrugging a shoulder. Paul huffs a laugh, but joins Sam, and you refocus your attention on Emily who's smiling a little too wide. "What?"

"So Paul, huh? Was it just me or did he seem a little too interested?"

You roll your eyes, chuckling. "Do all Quileute boys look like that? Because if so, I'm in trouble."

"I'm surprised you didn't bite his head off for staring."

"It's La Push, Em, I'm telling you," you chuckle. "There's just something about this place that makes me feel at peace. I feel.. connected almost, if that makes any sense."

"It does," she grins knowingly. "Believe me, it does."

Eventually Sam and Paul return to Emily entertaining you with changing the color of the fire by tossing driftwood into it, and they grill up some burgers on a small portable grilling pit. Sam and Emily are side-by-side, laughing as you suck in air between clenched teeth because you ate too many hot cheetos yet again. Nearby, Paul looks torn between laughing or getting you something to drink.

You can't explain it, but you immediately get on with Paul. He's talkative, which normally annoys you, but you find yourself relaxed around him. He's sort of a touchy-feely person, but you don't mind and even relax when he sits next to you and slings an arm around your shoulders when you end up laughing a little too hard at one of your own jokes. You don't see it, but Sam and Emily stare at you and Paul with fond expressions.

The night soon comes to an end and you leave the beach with a few new polaroids to hang on your wall, some of which you having departed with because Emily and Paul wanted them.

Another few weeks pass which leaves you looking forward to Christmas vacation after the shit day you've had at school. Your mom's already been informed of the altercation which took place, and after spending all day in In-School-Suspension since she couldn't leave work to pick you up you're more than ready to go home and nap the rest of the day away.

However, when you get home, you're all too aware of the grumpy mood you're slipping into when you're left alone with your thoughts. You feel mentally drained, you wish you didn't, and all you want to do is get away. So after tossing and turning in the comfort of your bed, you grab your cell phone which was lying next to you and scroll down to Emily's name.

The phone rings a couple of times before she picks up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Em, you busy?"

"Not at all. How are you?"

You gulp. "I've been better. Today was a shit day and I just- I need to get out. You busy this weekend?"

"Nope. What did you have in mind?" She chuckles.

"It sounds pretty juvenile," you say, "but I was wondering if you were interested in a girl's weekend? Starting tonight preferably? Obviously Sam will be there because we'll be at your house, but I much rather deal with you and him than anyone here in Forks."

"That sounds wonderful," she says. "Will your mom be okay with that?"

"Yeah. She understands how I get sometimes and she'll be happy that I'm taking the initiative to put myself in a positive atmosphere rather than sulking over what happened for the next three days."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not necessarily."

"Tell you what. Paul is actually in Forks on a job for Sam. I can call him and have him pick you up if you want to leave the car with your mom."

"That sounds perfect, Em. Thank you. I'll call my mom right now to let her know what the plan is."

"Okay. See you soon."

After hanging up with Emily, you call your mom. You tell her that you need a breather and that Emily's offered to let you spend the weekend with her starting tonight. Your mom agrees to the plan and assures you that she has a ride home after work so she doesn't need you to wait for her to get out or for you to drop the car off.

Your mom ends up keeping you on the phone a little longer than expected to talk about what went down at school, so you've only just hung up with her and made it downstairs to the hall closet to search for a duffel bag when there's a knock on the front door.

Opening the door, you're met with a rather sheepish Paul. "Hey, Lahote. You got here fast."

"Yeah. I was already done with my errand when Em called."

"Oh good. I haven't packed my bag yet, so come on in."

Paul enters your house and you shut the door behind him. "Emily mentioned a girl's weekend starting tonight. Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"Yeah about that," you chuckle nervously as you lead him upstairs, "I'm actually suspended tomorrow and have been instructed to cool off over the weekend."

"Suspended?" Paul snorts. "What the hell did you do?"

"Shoes off at the top step or you wait there," you quickly inform him. "The whole top floor is carpeted and I don't like shoes on the carpet." Paul hesitates, but he kicks off his shoes in the end. "And I might have punched Bella Swan."

Paul barks out a quick laugh as he follows you. "What did Bella Swan ever do to you?"

The whole upstairs level is a loft which your mom gladly let you have and you've fixed it to your liking so you're not hesitant to let anyone see it. You move to your dressers to grab three sets of comfortable clothes to lounge around in, underwear, and then grab a pair of jeans from your closet. "She, uh, she's been hanging out with that Jacob Black kid that keeps going on and on about Sam being in a cult," you say while setting your clothes into the duffel bag.

You walk over to your bathroom, quickly grabbing your toiletries and carrying them out to drop on your bed. "I don't know how she knows we hang out, but she had the goddamn nerve to tell me that I needed to stop hanging out with you because you and Sam were bad news. I laughed it off at first because she's a friend, but she kept pushing and I just- I snapped."

You plop down on your bed and when you look up, you find Paul standing in front of your book shelf which houses only two shelves of books while your healing crystals take up one shelf and geodes of various colors on another. "You really like rocks, don't you?"

You shrug. "They're pretty and most of those are from a friend who just moved away. I don't actually believe they have healing abilities, I just like the aesthetic of it all." Paul picks a couple up, examining them. "I was gonna learn how to make a necklace with some of the smaller ones, but then I got lazy. Maybe I'll learn soon."

As Paul moves on from the crystals to standing in front of the polaroids stuck to your wall, you smile and fix the contents of your bag. "Sam and Emily are in a lot of these," he says while grinning over his shoulder.

"Because I like them. It feels like I've known them for ages rather than a few months." Just as you've pulled the blanket from your bed to fold and take with you, Paul plops down on the edge of the bed. "No, no, don't!" Paul freezes and then his eyes widen, and you sigh. "Don't you dare get comfortable, Lahote."

"Jesus Christ," he groans. "What is your bed made out of?" He scoots up your bed, laying back fully. "If we ever get to that point in our friendship where we have sleepovers, I'm definitely sleeping in your bed."

You snort. "Keep dreaming."

"Oh I will." You're thankful his eyes are closed because his words make you blush.

You quickly get yourself under control, and once you have everything Paul takes your bag while leaving you to take your blanket and pillow. He easily slides his feet back into his sneakers and you follow him downstairs where you put on your own shoes. Then outside, Paul opens the passenger door for you before handing you your bag.

"All set?"

"Yep. All set."

Paul shuts the door, smirking, and you roll your eyes at him as he saunters in front of the truck to get to the driver side door. He chuckles as he settles himself behind the steering wheel and your thoughts the entire way to La Push are centered around how screwed you are if Paul keeps up with the flirty behavior.

Thursday night at Sam and Emily's proved to be exactly what you needed. You had attempted to help her in the kitchen, but she pushed you into the living room to find something on tv. Sam and Paul had left to run some errands, so instead you made yourself comfortable at the kitchen table and kept Emily company while she cooked.

The boys had reappeared with a friend in tow, all shirtless and barefoot. You were introduced to Jared who couldn't stop smirking at you and Paul, and you only had to threaten him once when he made a crass joke directed at you. It almost sounded like a growl had come from Paul, but Emily had distracted you soon after.

When Sam and Emily had found out why you didn't have school on Friday, they seemed rather amused but it was Emily who had lightly scolded you about violence not being the answer. You assured her you knew and that your mom had already gotten on your case about it, and then proceeded to help Emily around the house and do a bit of grocery shopping since it seemed she fed not only Sam, but also Paul and Jared. Then Friday night you and Emily watched movies as the boys ran some more errands, and the two of you barely complained when the boys crashed it.

Saturday morning, you and Emily had been making some breakfast when Paul showed up. He had greeted Emily with a kiss to her cheek and when he turned to you, you raised an eyebrow at him. He had huffed, but gave you a brief side-hug before joining Sam at the table. Then just as you were taking the coffee to the table, a heart stopping howl had ripped through the air. You shuddered, Sam and Paul perked up, and Emily attempted to distract you.

But before she could, Sam spoke up. "There's nothing to be scared of. The wolves don't go anywhere near our homes."

You had startled at the hand Emily laid on your shoulder and then realized you had frozen when you heard the howl. "Oh. I'm not scared." You had set the coffee down and then took a seat. "I actually like wolves. I just never heard one outside of a wolf sanctuary."

Paul choked on his bite of food. "W-Wolf sanctuary? You've been to one of those."

"Yeah." You had started to make yourself a plate when you explained. "When I was younger, I was really obsessed with wolves. Before my dad passed, he would take me every summer to the sanctuary. I visited so much that one wolf in particular remembered me. She would knock me down to greet me and then follow me around for as long as I was there."

Not long after you had shared that memory, Jared rushed in through the back door and Emily made him sit to have breakfast before he whisked Sam and Paul away. Then before Sam had left, he had told you and Emily to dress warm because there was a bonfire with Quileute Elders that he had wanted you to attend later that night. Paul had become apprehensive at that, but your interest had been piqued immediately.

Then later that night after you had dressed warm for the beach, Sam had driven you and Emily. Paul was waiting for you at the beach and you noticed he seemed almost nervous, so when he reached for your hand you let him take it without a word. There were a handful of people on the beach, sitting around a fire, and you smiled and shook hands with everyone Paul introduced you to.

Eventually, Harry Clearwater called for everyone's attention. He spoke of the Quileute legends- of the men long before their time and spirit warriors who chased away threats. Everyone listening was hanging off his every word, and you found yourself enthralled with the tale of the Cold Ones and the Quileutes magically shifting into wolves who hunted the Cold Ones down after one slaughtered half their village. He spun a beautiful tale that you left shivering when a woman sacrificed herself for her husband and something about the somber atmosphere afterward left you feeling off. It was almost as if everyone present believed in the legends.

Harry went on to explain that the Quileute legends were passed down from generation to generation, and that it was of the utmost importance no outsiders hear them. And that- that confused you because you were the very definition of an outsider. Yet it also didn't slip your mind that everyone you had met welcomed you with warm smiles.

Back at Sam and Emily's, Emily has instructed you, Sam, and Paul to take a seat at the table while she whisks up some hot chocolate.

But your earlier thoughts are still sticking with you. "Not that I don't appreciate being invited out tonight, but why was I?" You hesitantly ask. "I'm clearly not of Quileute blood."

Paul's gaze immediately darts to Sam. He and Paul share a look, the elder man nodding. Paul promptly stands and heads out the back door, and you frown as you watch him go. "Special circumstances made it so that we were able to bring in you in on the secret."

"Secret?" You wonder. "Your legends are really that secretive?"

"They have to be," Emily carefully explains as she makes her way back to the table, hot chocolate forgotten. "If not, the wolves would be hunted down."

"The wolves?" You quirk an eyebrow, grinning, but your amusement falters when a howl pierces the air. You gulp and your eyes immediately dart to the back door. "That was a coincidence."

Another howl echoes back. "Should someone go get Paul? That sounded awfully close."

Emily smiles sadly and you find yourself climbing to your feet to follow after her. Sam follows behind and you can't help the sharp inhale when a large gray wolf stands in their backyard. "That's no normal wolf," you mutter, shocked at the sheer size of it.

The wolf seems antsy, whining as it shifts it's weight from front paw to front paw. You can't take your eyes off it, nor it you, and you find your chest aching with how hard and fast your heart is pumping.

"The wolves protect our lands from the Cold Ones. Vampires," Sam says and you flinch, startled. "The Quileute legends were just that- legends that we were told growing up. But then a coven of Cold Ones settled in Forks and their proximity started to trigger our shapeshifting abilities."

"O-Our?"

Sam smiles sadly before walking off the porch and towards the gray wolf. Your eyes widen and you reach out for him, but Emily pulls you back. "It's okay," she tells you. "Watch."

From one moment to the next, Sam bursts out of his clothes and in his place is an even larger black wolf. You choke back a sob, your mind trying to wrap around what it is you're seeing. Emily tucks you under one of her arms, but you hold yourself tense. "I- I don't- what?"

"They're our protectors."

"But- but how?" You shakily point at Sam, then towards the gray wolf. "And who?"

Emily squeezes you a little closer. "I think you know who, sweetheart."

The gray wolf whines and takes a step closer, but the black wolf lowly growls at him. Your mind is going a mile minute and part of you is wanting to go searching for Paul. But surely if Paul had heard the howl, he'd have come back or called or something. And then it clicks. "Paul?" the wolf whines louder and lowers itself to its belly. You exhale harshly, breath stuttering as you try not to freak out. "I- I need-"

"Shh," Emily shushes you. "Let's get you back inside and-"

"Home. I need to go home," you say as you start walking backwards. The gray wolf whines louder, standing up and running towards the woods. The black wolf watches him go before looking back at you and Emily, huffing once before sprinting after the wolf himself.

"Come on, Y/N. I'll get you home."

You collect your belongings in a daze, meeting Emily by the kitchen. She smiles sadly at you, a smile which you return, and you follow after her to Sam's truck. Just as you've set your bag and blanket down, and are about to hop into the truck, a heart shattering howl rips through the air. You freeze and turn towards the woods, your heart aching at the sorrowful howl.

The drive is silent with the exception of the static-filled airwaves and all too soon Emily is parking outside your house. Your house is empty with your mom being at work, so you're in no rush to get out and Emily is in no rush to kick you out.

The seconds seem to drag on until eventually you ask the question that's been nagging you since Sam let the wolf out of the bag. "Why me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why me, Em?" You sigh and turn in your seat to stare at the woman. "What were the special circumstances that Sam deemed it appropriate for me to know all this?"

She fidgets in her seat. "This is something you should be really talking to Paul about, Y/N."

"But I'm asking you. I don't- I need time. But I also need to know why you guys let an outsider in when it's clear outsiders aren't welcome."

You stare at Emily long enough that she finally caves. "The wolves have something that they call Imprints. Long story short, imprints are the wolves' soulmates. They live, they breathe, and they'll do anything for this one person."

"Okay..?"

"I am Sam's imprint," she breathes out a little too quickly, "and you-"

"And me?" You ask when she trails off. She looks at you, almost as if pleading with her eyes to not make her say it. Your chest aches with realization. "And I'm whose? Paul's?" At her hesitant nod it's like all the air is sucked from your lungs. Your eyes tear up and a noise that's a mixture between a laugh and sob escapes you. Emily continues to stare and you shake your head, sniffling. "I think I should go."

"Y/N."

"Please don't," you mutter. "This is a lot to take in and I just need-"

"Time," Emily finishes. "I understand."

As you grab your blanket and pillow a little tighter in one arm, you grab the strap of your duffel bag with the other. Getting out, you then stand by the opened door. "I'll talk to you soon, Em. I will," you assure her. "I just need to sleep on it."

Just as you're getting ready to shut the door, Emily stops you. "I know it's a lot to take in. Believe me, I know," she huffs a laugh. "And when you come back around, remind me to tell you all about how Sam and I first started out."

"Do you- would you mind telling me now?" You meekly ask. "My mom will still be gone for a few more hours and in all honesty I would rather learn of everything from a fellow imprint."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then. I'll just call and leave a message for Sam."

Shapeshifting wolves, Imprints, and Cold Ones. It's a lot to take in, especially learning just who the Forks coven was, but a lot easier to digest coming from Emily. Hers and Sam's story was heartbreaking, but watching the love and affection she held for him eased your mind and heart some.

You had Sunday all to yourself, not doing anything at all but lounging in bed and watching the cheesiest rom-coms you could find on tv. Your mom had lured you downstairs with some meatloaf and gravy, and then you had proceeded to shower and get in bed early for school the next morning.

Monday morning had a good morning text and an apology from Paul, and you did your best to pay attention in school. People were still talking about how Bella got her black eye, but they were let down when you and Bella ran into one another and all you did was nod before moving on. She was still in a slump since the Cullen's departure and it took everything in you to keep from telling her you knew about the Cold Ones. But you figured in doing so, she'd want to know how you found out and you couldn't tell her about the wolves. So you kept quiet and tried to figure out exactly what you were going to do about Paul.

Emily had explained that the relationship between a wolf and his imprint wasn't necessarily romantic, but more often than not that's how it usually played out. She tried her best to not persuade you into anything, so you assured her she had nothing to worry about. Things between you and Paul weren't exactly normal, but you were comfortable enough with whatever you and him had going on.

Then by Monday night the loneliness started to kick in and you couldn't hold back for much longer. So Tuesday morning, after dropping your mom off at work, you decide to skip school and head down to La Push.

It's not long before you're parking in front of Emily's house. You've only walked up the steps when the screen door opens and Paul steps out. His expression is stoic, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jean shorts.

"Can we- can we go for a walk?" You ask. Paul nods and you turn to head back down the steps. He follows after you and you cross your arms over your chest as the two of you walk down the road. "So wolves," you drawl. "And imprints."

Paul huffs, smothering his amusement. "Yep. Emily told us she told you everything."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I just figured it'd be easier to hear from her rather than anyone else." You kick a stray rock, sighing.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Hmm? Oh. No. I just wanted to see you."

Paul stops and you continue a few steps more before turning around to face him. When you meet his gaze, you roll your eyes at his smug expression. "So you're not going to freak out?"

"That's what Sunday was for," you tell him. "And then I moped around a bit on Monday and caved this morning."

"So what are-"

"We?" You finish for him. He nods. "I'm not sure. I was just hoping we would take it day by day. If something happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. So what do you say?" You ask, holding a hand out for him.

He glances at your hand, grinning. "Sure. Why not." Taking up your hand, you and Paul then head back towards Emily's.

Christmas came and went, you spending the day with your mom since she had the day off. Then New Years came and you spent the day on the Rez since your mom had to work. You learn about the pack dynamics since more wolves had started to phase and then raised the question about why they were phasing if the Cullen coven had moved away. It was Paul who reluctantly admitted that they didn't know why.

Then Jacob Black joined the pack and Bella fell back down the slippery slope into a state of depression. But something about this time around seemed different and you just knew it was going to be bad. And sure enough you were right. Mostly.

You're finishing up an English essay when the doorbell rings. You ignore it since your mom is downstairs, grinning when you hear her greet Paul. She had met him on Christmas Eve and if you hadn't called dibs, you were pretty sure she would have jokingly tried. Your mom stalls Paul for just a little while and then you hear him climbing the stairs just as you cross your last t's and dot your last i's.

"Hey there, smarty pants."

You smile and close your binder, capping your pen and turning in your seat. "Hey, wolf boy. Done with patrol?"

"Yeah. Sam gave me the night to cool off."

"Cool off?" Paul sheepishly pads barefoot over to your bed, falling in and scooting towards the wall. You get up, clicking off your desk lamp and plugging in the fairy lights above your bed. "What did you do?" You ask, falling into bed right next to him.

"Black got around Sam's gag order and that leech lover of his found out about us."

"Leech lov- Bella? Bella knows about the Quileutes?" You ask, eyes wide and voice lowered.

"Yep." You finally settle down, head pillowed on his outstretched arm while you drape an arm across his abdomen. "Bella punched me and-"

"She punched you?!"

"Yes." He chuckles at your outrage. "And I shifted in front of her. Jacob and I got into a fight, and Bella was let in on everything. Turns out that redheaded leech is after her because her leech killed her mate and now she wants to return the favor."

"Jesus Christ," you groan. "Bella's a magnet for them."

"Yeah. So until we get a handle on the situation, please be careful. Don't do any unnecessary wandering in the woods and definitely don't go anywhere with Bella fuckin' Swan."

You snuggle deeper into him, snorting. "Aye, aye, captain. You staying the night?"

"Yeah. Your mom wants the car in the morning because she has to pick up a friend. I'm taking you to school and picking you up."

"Sounds good."

And within minutes, with Paul idly tracing patterns on your back, you're fast asleep.

Waking up the following morning, however, is a lot harder when Paul's cuddling you. You have to drag yourself out from under his arm and then grumble unflattering words at him as he snuggles down with your pillow while you get ready for school.

There's coffee waiting for you downstairs courtesy of your mom and a note of thanks from her to Paul for not defiling you under her roof while she was sleeping downstairs. Paul's cheeks turn red and you giggled the entire drive to school.

The staring reminds you of your first day of school, but this time it's because of Paul. You roll your eyes at the females who seem a little too interested and scoff at Mike and Tyler who frown as you pass by. One stare in particular, however, catches your attention.

"You can let me out here," you say. "I wanna talk to Bella real quick."

"About?"

"Girl stuff." You grin at Paul, quickly rattling off the time you get out of school. Then when you hop out, you make your way towards Bella who's standing by her red monstrosity of a truck. "So I hear you learned about the boys on the Rez."

She blinks owlishly before jerking her head in a nod. "Yeah. You knew?"

"Yep. Since before Christmas."

She frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Excuse me?" The nerve of this girl really grates on your nerves and your hand tightens its grip on the strap of your backpack. "Because it wasn't any of your business." She opens her mouth to no doubt explain her right in knowing, but she wisely shuts her mouth right away when she notices your white knuckled grip. "A word of advice, Bells, you touch Paul again and I'll blacken your other eye. Are we clear?"

Her eyes widen and when you quirk an eyebrow at her, she gulps and quickly nods. "Y-Yeah. Crystal."

"Good. Now let's get to class."

When you turn around, your curse under your breath when you realize Paul is still sitting there in his truck. He's smirking right at you and you just know he's heard what you told Bella. So after quickly flipping him off and grinning when you hear Bella snort in amusement, you and your sometimes friend head towards the school buildings.

You do your best to tune out those who would call themselves your friend, ignoring the questions about your mysterious morning companion. Bella, when around, had smirked through it all and only shrugged when the questions were then directed at her, she only telling them he was a guy from La Push.

Then when school lets out, you and Angela are walking side by side. She's going on about an upcoming article she's going to write when Paul catches your attention, he leaning on the tailgate of his truck. But when he catches sight of you, he pushes off and stalks towards you. You grin, Angela trails off when she realizes you're no longer paying her any attention, and Paul smirks just as he comes toe to toe with you.

"What are you doing, Lah-" Hands cup your jaw and feverish lips press against yours. You gasp before your eyes flutter shut, your hands grasping the front of his shirt as you lean up on the tips of your toes to press back against him. Angela giggles from beside you and you only pull back when a whistle pierces the air. You fall back so you're flat on your feet, gulping before licking your bottom lip. "So, uh, so we're doing that now, are we?"

"You started it when you threatened to blacken Swan's eye."

Angela snorts as you purse your lips to keep from laughing. "Whatever. Paul, this is Angela. Ang, this Paul. My.. Paul."

"Smooth," he chuckles, then glances at Angela and nods in greeting. "Hi. It's nice to meet one of Y/N's friends. She doesn't like to introduce me to any of them."

You punch his shoulder. "Not true. Most of my friends are your friends. Angela is the only one outside of La Push that I consider a friend and this is the first time you've literally come here. Don't be a dick."

Paul merely grins down at you, bringing you to his side and turning you so his arm drapes along the back of your shoulders. Angela smiles. "You two are adorable. No wonder none of the boys here caught your attention."

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. "Yeah, yeah. This idiot had me hooked early on. No one in Forks even stood a chance."

"And on that note," Paul muses, far too smug, "we really should get going."

After telling your friend you'd see her tomorrow, you follow Paul to his truck where he proceeds to open the door for you. Then once he's settled behind the wheel and starts to carefully drive out of the school parking lot, he holds his right hand out in between you and you barely glance at it before grasping his hand with your own left. "So we're really doing this? No going back?"

He grins. "No going back."

#paul x reader #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #twilight imagine #new moon imagine #paul lahote #sam uley #emily young #angela weber #bella swan #twilight #new moon #fanficimagery #imagine

[hufflautia]

In Sickness and in Health

Requested by @milk-leaves!​  

Warnings: A very brief and non-explicit sexual implication

Summary: Slytherin catches the flu. Luckily, her husband is there to help. However, her stubborn nature and insistent claim that “she can’t be sick because she’s never been sick in her entire life” makes it a little difficult for Hufflepuff to assist her. Marriage isn’t always easy, but with the proper amount of love and patience, everything works out in the end. 

Slytherin grabs the garbage can just in time to vomit into the basket. When she finishes, she wipes her mouth with a grimace and rests her forehead against the bed. 

“Honey?” 

She looks up and sees Hufflepuff standing by the door, his forehead puckered as he takes in her appearance. Her hair unruly, she’s slumped on the floor of their bedroom, looking tired and pale. 

Usually, Slytherin would be happy to see her husband. However, all she feels is irritation in the wake of his presence, and she leans against the side of the mattress once more. 

“What are you doing here,” she croaks, eyeing him as he approaches her and kneels down. “I thought you had to go to the Ministry today.” 

“It was a minor emergency, so I left early.” He regards her carefully. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Hufflepuff frowns. “But you threw up.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been doing that a lot today,” she murmurs weakly. Noticing his eyes widen, she snorts. “I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re thinking. I got my period today.”  

He gives her a sympathetic look. “I imagine it’s been a very fun day for you.” 

“The best I’ve ever had, actually.” 

Leaning in ever so slightly, that’s when Hufflepuff sees it—the faint flush on her face, the way she folds her arm around herself, the tinge of hoarseness in her voice.  

He reaches out and touches Slytherin’s forehead. Her skin feels hot and cold at the same time. She bats away his hand in annoyance. “What are you doing,” she snaps, scowling at him. Her anger immediately falters when she notices how his eyebrows rise, a look of surprise mixed with hurt spreading onto his face. 

“You have a fever,” he confirms quietly. 

Slytherin resists a frown. “But I never get sick.” 

“Well, it happens to the best of us.” He gets up. “Wait here, I’ll get some medicine.” 

“I don’t need it,” she calls after him but he’s already in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets. He returns with a bottle and a small cup. Taking a seat before pouring red liquid into the cup, he ignores her when she says his name in a tone of indignation, insisting that she isn’t sick.

Hufflepuff hands it to her. “Drink,” he says firmly. When she juts her chin out and pouts, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Honey, I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel better.”

She still doesn’t move. This time, he returns her unyielding stare with one of his own. His tone is hard and demanding as he warns, “I’m not gonna repeat myself.” 

Slytherin grudgingly brings the cup to her lips. If she didn't feel like complete shit right now, she would keep pushing his patience for fun. She’d even be a little turned on by his authoritative voice. Probably both. 

She immediately makes a face as the medicine slides down her throat. “This tastes like ass,” she grumbles, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth and setting the cup down. 

He chuckles. “Medicine tends to taste that way.” He stands and offers his hand. “Come. I’m sure a warm shower sounds perfect right now.”  

A faint smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. “How’d you know,” she asks, taking his hand. A wave of nausea sweeps over her when she gets up, and he quickly plants his hands on either side of her. 

“I’m your husband,” he pulls her closer, “I know these things.” 

Slytherin wraps her arms around him. “Will you carry me to the bathroom,” she mumbles into his sweater. 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head before picking her up bridal-style with care. 

“Do you even have to ask?” 

A couple of hours pass. Feeling drowsy from the medicine, Slytherin took a long nap before waking up to the smell of homemade soup. Hufflepuff cooked something for her while she was sleeping. To her dismay, he also gave her another cup of NyQuil, but she drank it without any resistance. Afterwards, her headache subsided and was diminished to a dull pain, which is nothing compared to before. 

Now, she is laying in bed, feeling comfortable and content as she snuggles with her husband while he reads her favorite book out loud. She’ll probably never openly admit it but she loves when they cuddle. Listening to the smooth drawl of his voice, she catches a few words while dozing in and out of sleep. Her lips curve into a smile. He’s getting to her favorite part where he speaks in a ridiculous voice when reading the dialogue of an ancient wizard. 

Hufflepuff had read the book to her before when they were dating. He used the same wise and raspy voice as he uses now. At that moment, as she attempted to hold in her laughter, she knew he was the one. Funnily enough, he ended up proposing to her a month later. 

Feeling the familiar tug in her heart that can only be classified as complete adoration, Slytherin musters enough strength to pull herself out of the cozy arms of sleep. She shifts around so that she can properly see his face and says his name tenderly. 

“What is it,” he asks, putting the book down. “Is your headache still bothering you?” 

“A little, but...I’m sorry for being mean to you before. I was angry at you for no reason, but it might’ve been because of my period, and you already know how bad my PMS gets sometimes, but I still feel terrible about being so rude because you’re so great and sweet and you were only trying to help but I was being so difficult and I think I’m just not really used to people taking care of me, so I was trying to handle this flu on my own but I still shouldn’t have acted that way—and I literally hit your fucking hand and I hate myself for it because you don’t deserve it at all, you deserve so much more than whatever I have to offer...” Words continue to spill from her mouth as she rambles on and on, not bothering to pause for a breath of air. 

Hufflepuff says her name and she finally stops, staring back at him with a contorted expression as if she were trying to back tears. He cups her cheek, to which she leans into his warm touch. “Please don’t worry about that anymore, honey, it’s okay. Honestly. I’ve been with you long enough to know that there’s no one else I would rather be with but you. Even with your stubbornness, I love you all the same. Maybe even a little more.” He gives her a reassuring smile as she looks back at him with watery eyes. “Just focus on resting for now, okay?”

She nods and tries to smile back, getting a little choked up in the process. His words are laced with so much endearment that she realizes just how lucky she is to have someone like him to spend the rest of her life with. She puts her hand over his. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for loving me as you do.”  

His gaze is so unimaginably soft that, for a split second, Slytherin wonders how it’s even possible. He leans in, and she happily closes the distance. 

One might think that as time passes for a married couple, the love begins to stale. This is not true in their case, for the flutter in her stomach intensifies as they kiss. She can only focus on how soft he feels against her lips, how he invades all her senses in the best way possible. Her fingers grip the front of his shirt while his hand rests against the curve of her neck when they finally pull apart. Their noses brush against each other as they lock eyes. 

“I love you,” she breathes. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “And I love you.” 

“Good. Because we’re stuck with each other forever.” 

“I’d be sad if we weren’t,” he replies with a grin, retrieving the book. “Shall I continue reading?” 

She beams at him before laying her cheek against his chest. “Yes please.” 

Hufflepuff flips to the page he left off from. While he reads, he traces patterns around her stomach, as if he's painting a beautiful masterpiece over her skin. 

A couple of chapters in, Slytherin momentarily closes her eyes as his melodious voice washes over her. 

The sound of his steady heartbeat lulls her to sleep. 

FIN.

~

Check out my masterlist! | Kind comments and reblogs are most appreciated :) 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: 

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It took me a while to come up with an idea for this (also, to the person who requested this, I hope you are satisfied :D). My friend had the idea of “a vacation gone horribly wrong”. It was a fantastic idea - I even made a google doc for it and everything, but I did not write out a sufficient amount of general details for it because nothing solid came to mind. Then, when I was trying to go to sleep, I came up with this idea and I am very happy with how it came out!! 

I modeled Hufflepuff after Steve Rogers to some extent. He has that gentle giant type of vibe. He is kind and loving, but he’ll be stern if he needs to. I have to admit, the thought of making a series about slytherpuff married life has crossed my mind while writing this one-shot. I am still contemplating it. If I do create the series, it won’t be restricted to this couple specifically, but I will consider writing more stories about them because I really do adore their dynamic! Anyways, if I were to write that series, it would be different stories with different couples. It might not even be classified as a series but more as a collection of slytherpuff married life stories. Also, there would probably be at least one nsfw story included in that collection, but I will not be writing any smut until after my birthday, which is in April. *HI THIS IS JESSICA FROM THE NEXT DAY, aka the day that i’m gonna post this and im just going over the fic. while i was sleeping, i just thought of ANOTHER marriage fic so i think im going to make a married life collection of storiessss :D :D :D!!! however, im still wondering about whether i should write it, because the story idea is a little eh. if anyone has any other marriage life ideas, please feel free to let me know! before, i was a little hesitant on making a collection because it was hard for me to think of ideas for this fic when the request came in. hopefully, that will change in the future. also why do i keep coming up with good ideas for stories in my sleep lmao* 

Writing this story was fun. I stayed up until 2 am for four straight days while writing. Lmao how odd is it to see those two sentences right next to each other? In all honestly, I didn’t feel like it was 2 am because I was in the zone. I just kept writing until I told myself to go to bed because the future morning me will regret it--and lemme tell you, she really does. Anyways, I used my own experience with medicine for fevers. I absolutely hate the taste of NyQuil; I remember when my mom would make me drink small cups of it whenever I was sick. Also, when I was writing Sly’s rambling bit, I did not put any periods in the paragraph because I wanted to make it seem like she’s going on and on and isn’t stopping. However, I thought it to be weird and so I put the paragraph into the “translate to english” thing so that I could press the audio icon and hear what it sounds like. I’m happy to report that it was one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard in my entire life because her monotone voice saying all that was very amusing. 

There is no telling what fic I will post next. Last week, I was all over the place and working on several fics, moving from one to another when I got bored of the story. Also, my mental state is not the best at the moment. I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my writing recently, and I’m probably gonna go through another episode of that because this is gonna be the first fic that marks the end of tag lists and so this is probably gonna be an underrated fic because fewer ppl will see it. I came to realize that it’s not me who’s writing bad fics; even though I tag people, there’s a noticeable lack of interaction, so it’s likely that some of my followers just aren’t active anymore. There was a fanfic writer who I really like because their loki fics are amazing. A few weeks ago, I found their other blog that I was not aware of beforehand and they made a post 3 weeks ago saying that they would no longer be writing fics because there were barely any people interacting with them. She seemed really upset, saying stuff like “I guess my fics just aren’t good enough”, “no one can save me anymore” (I know that sounds very ominous but she was insinuating “no nice comments will make me change my mind”), and “I feel like deleting my blog because there’s a sense of failure in just leaving them there”. This made me really sad, and a part of me was afraid that one day, I would adopt a similar mindset. However, I know that there’s a group of people who will always be there to read my stories, so I’m gonna try to hold onto that idea and continue writing to make you happy and myself happy as well. Also I just realized that I always include one part in my author’s note that’s just sad for some reason :’)

ANYWAYS, I remember making a post a longgggg time ago that said “I promise that I will finish the slytherpuff series if it’s the last thing I do”. That has changed; I plan to post all the chapters leading up to their requited love at last (aka the part in which they actually get into a relationship together). After that, there’s still a bunch of chapters but they’re just fluffy bits, i.e. rainy day, they bake together, oop it’s one of their birthdays, etc. In other words, they aren’t essential to the plot. I could turn them into one-shots and stuff, but some of the chapters relate to the characters’ lives. In addition, it’s sweet to see their relationship progress. For those chapters regarding fluffy bits of their relationship, I won’t feel incentive to write them right away because their love is already requited and I also have two big series that I would rather work on. However, I’m not gonna start another series yet because I don’t wanna leave you on a cliffhanger in Chapter 3 and suddenly start writing a whole other series. The plan is to post all the chapters for the slytherpuff series leading up to the moment when they start dating (Chapter 7 or 8 will probably be when they actually get together). That way, there’s no rush to complete it because it’s just easy and sweet since they’re already in a relationship and readers aren’t anxiously waiting to see what happens next. After that, I will probably begin writing the other series, which will be different from the original slytherpuff series. You’ll see why. Once in a while, I will go back to the original series and write for that when I feel like it. 

I’m trying my best to finish writing Chapter 4 :( It is gonna be long - I’ve already written about 7 pages and I am thinking of splitting it into two parts. If I do, I might be posting part 1 soon because it’s kind of already done. Then again, I like the idea of just posting it all at once. We’ll see! I’m gonna try to work on that after this. My desire to write is sporadic, but comments and interactions from readers are very impactful in terms of my motivation to write, so be sure to leave feedback if you can! I’ll see you all again the next time I post a fic. Thanks for reading!

Tags: 

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#Hogwarts #harry potter #slytherpuff #hufferin #hufflepuff x slytherin #hufflepuff and slytherin relationship #hufflepuff #slytherin #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts houses #slytherin x hufflepuff #hufflepuff-x-slytherin #slytherin-x-hufflepuff #slytherin and hufflepuff #hufflepuff and slytherin #cedric diggory #hufflepuff pride #hogwarts fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #slytherpuff oneshot #slytherin and hufflepuff relationship #hufflepuff and slytherin fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

[whump-town]

Kittens

I wrote something along these lines as an idea a while ago and I finished it now in-between breaks I’ve allowed myself between an essay I have to write. I figured it’s not my best but no one gets hurt and Hotch talks to a cat for the majority of it so it’s not that bad

The creaking of the old floorboards stops Hotch from going down the hall and checking to make sure Jack is up. He stands for a moment at the mouth of the hallway, listening to Jack curse and mumble under his breath. Most of which, he can’t hear but there are dips in Jack’s voice which allow for only certain words to float their way down to him.

“Where-- that little motherfu-- he’s going to-- shit, shit, shit--”

Hotch huffs a little laugh, a chuckle that makes no more than the whisper of a breath of noise leaving his mouth. Parenting doesn’t make much sense and Hotch is certain he’s probably supposed to say something to Jack about the cursing but to his credit, Jack hasn’t spoken like that in Hotch’s presence. Plus, it would make him a hypocrite to get too frustrated over it. He cursed at sixteen and he still does. He also smoked and got into all kinds of trouble and, as far as he knows, the most Jack gets into on a Saturday night is too many energy drinks and a new book.

As curious as Hotch is about whatever it is that Jack is fussing with, Hotch has to get breakfast ready. He turns and starts to walk to the kitchen. That’s where he’s headed when he sees something small and orange bolts ahead of him. Glancing over his shoulder, in the direction it had come from, Hotch finds nothing. Just the light peeking out from behind Jack’s door.

Hmm. Odd.

Hotch continues down the hall, looking around the floor as he goes. Trying to see what it was and where it went. Until he gets to the kitchen. “Oh,” Hotch raises an eyebrow at the kitten he finds sniffing the floor near the oven. A tiny orange kitten. He picks it up, observing it as he turns it around to inspect the tiny thing.

It looks up and him and gives a little irritated meow.

“You must be motherfucker,” Hotch says, rubbing a finger over its head. “I think Jack is looking for you.” Hotch smiles as the kitten purs, pushing its head under his finger for more. He indulges it and, he has to admit, the thing is cute. He doesn’t mind it. “Are you hungry?”

He goes to the fridge and inspects the findings… slim pickings. “Cats are lactose intolerant, right?” He looks down as the kitten squirms his arms. Rolling over it attacks his fingers but cradled to his chest it’s safe. “I don’t know anything about cats.” He’s never had any pets. Haley had an old dog named Bailey when they first got together. A border collie her father bought for her birthday years before from a farmer in town.

Growing up in the country he’d seen plenty of stray cats and dogs but he’d never had his own. There was a porch cat he used to feed bread to but his father scared it off and kicked it once. Hotch had looked so much like his father that the cat wouldn’t come to him anymore after that incident. That was probably for the best.

“Here,” Hotch finally settles. He pulls the almond milk out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. He adds the container of blueberries beside it. “I’m having oatmeal but I reckon you can probably have almond milk, right?” With a frown, he makes a mental note to ask Emily or Garcia about that. One of them is bound to know. For now, a little almond milk is probably fine. It doesn’t have milk in it but he wants to be certain.

Taking a bowl out of the cupboard, he hums and reaches over for the measuring cups. He’s been making oatmeal for years so he’s mastered the eyeballing it technique. However, the half-cup measuring cup is the perfect size for him to use as a bowl for the kitten.

“Has Jack got you any food?” he asks placing the kitten on the counter. He pours a little almond milk in the half-cup and smirks when the kitten takes to it immediately. “Well… you probably wouldn’t drink that if it wasn’t good for you, right?” Probably… well, maybe.

This feels exactly like when they brought Jack home. He and Haley had been terrified of every little thing. They were constantly calling someone about something. He can easily call Emily or Garcia but… he’s an adult, he can handle a kitten.

“Stay,” he orders stepping away from the counter to grab a pan. The kitten doesn’t move just stands contently where it is drinking the almond milk. Hotch gets the oatmeal going, keeping an eye on the kitten out of the corner of his eye. “You’re hungry,” he notes, with a tilt of his head. And when it looks up at him, almond milk all over its face, there’s no way he can deny how cute it is.

His oatmeal doesn’t take that long to make and distracted with watching the kitten it’s a nice easy pace. Bowl of oatmeal in his palm, angry kitten trying to escape from where it’s tucked between his chest and forearm, and the little cup of almond milk pinched between his fingers he sits down at the kitchen table. “What has he named you?” Hotch asks, settling it all down on the table. It occurs to him it could be a little strange to let the cat on the table but it is a cat so if it sticks around he assumes there will be lots of table sitting.

Hotch can’t remember what book Jack was reading last week-- which is chronologically his best guess at when his little friend here made its way into the house. With hindsight, he can recall Jack having been just a little more distant with him, secretive. Jack is also significant with his decisions so maybe Hotch should think more along the lines of Jack’s favorite books, not his most recent reads. Then again maybe Jack hasn’t named the cat or he chose something out of a song or a movie.

Looking up as he hears Jack’s door creak open, he scowls back down at his lap. The kitten having stretched up at his chest and bats at one of the buttons on his shirt. He taps its little paw warningly, just enough to jar it a little, and judging from the look he receives this little warning tapis nothing something it was expecting.

“Hey, dad.”

Hotch looks up and hums back, nothing unusual because he certainly isn’t going to give up the advantage he has right now. His son is a snarky little shit -- purely Emily’s doing -- and Hotch rarely gets moments where he comes out ahead of whatever jokes Jack (or Emily) can make at his expense.

Jack comes around and nods his head, timidly going about making himself some cereal. Hotch doesn’t comment on his son’s socks -- one is teal with bright, highlighters yellow bananas and the other is beige with pink polka dots. Hotch had given up on Jack and socks. Jack gets a little thrill out of this rebellion and Hotch should just be happy that it’s not worse.

The two of them really have nothing in common. Jack loves science and math (Hotch has to use a calculator for simple multiplication). Hotch prefers for each of his books to look like they have never even been read (Jack has so many sticky notes in his copy that Fahrenheit 451 that it looks silly). Jack refuses to carry around a planner and writes everything down on the back of his hand (Hotch has multiple planners and color codes things in delicate details).

“Oh.” Jack turns with his cereal in his hands and sees the kitten in his father’s lap. That bright orange over his black dress pants. Jack knew his father wouldn’t be mad -- he can count on one hand the number of times he has seen Hotch angry. Though, he knows what he’s done wasn’t the right course to take. He’s not so sure what to do now, he hadn’t planned this far ahead.

Hotch hums again, nodding his head.

Jack looks down at the floor and timidly takes his seat across from his father at the table. Tucking his legs underneath himself to avoid hitting Hotch’s much longer stretched-out legs. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about hitting his dad’s legs but today he’s sensing he should probably consider his actions a little more. “Am in trouble?”

Hotch raises an eyebrow and looks away from the kitten to his Jack. He’s looking down at his cereal, playing with it so he can avoid looking at Hotch. Jack’s never really been in trouble. Hotch is a little too lenient at times but even Jessica is pretty bad for that. Even so, Jack has turned out pretty okay, he’s still a kid (16 isn’t that grown, despite that being the age Hotch’s father kicked him out at -- well sent him to boarding school but that was only after he spent a month couch surfing and sleeping in a shitty tent he stole).

“No.” It’s a cat and he’s not mad and Hotch doesn’t see just yet where he could make this a learning opportunity so… he’s not going to make it a big deal. It’s hard, in situations like these, to know where normal discipline comes into play. His own father would have beat him senseless or locked him out of the house for a week, maybe longer.

“Oh.”

Hotch frowns, “do you think you should be?” He doesn’t mean it to bait Jack, he means it honestly. There isn’t a right answer.

Jack shrugs, “I mean, I don’t know.” Jack is aware that his father isn’t like most dads but they’re in a unique situation, the two of them. “You should probably lecture me about something, right? I mean, I don’t think I’ll be sneaking in any more cats but that’s not as a result of any lecture. I certainly wouldn’t do it with a dog.”

So maybe not a lesson learned but still sounds like there’s no point acknowledged. “Okay,” Hotch reasons. It sounds fair. “Well, next time we talk this sort of thing over, okay? I respect you and your decisions and so I ask for your opinions on things, right? I need you to respect my opinions.”

Jack nods.

“So, any names?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner

[iwritesongfics]

Pairings: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, More emo sh*t, Run-on sentences?

Notes: Wow guys, what have I been listening to, right? Flashbacks in italics.  Lemme know what you think!  -x

Tag list: @fific7​

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You should have known better than to get a drink alone, at Ardesia, no less. It was your spot, you brought him there first. That’s why you couldn’t believe it then when you saw him leaning against the bar, with a leggy model-type woman almost flush against his body, when he said he’d be home late because of work.

***

You had such a long day at work, that when you got Billy’s message of him working late, you thought it would be best to have dinner out and unwind. It was a Friday, after all, and after 60 hours of work this week you definitely deserved it.

Jessica had been pestering you to hang out with her for a few weeks, maybe the few times she’s actually not MIA due to all her cases. Maybe she was just bored, but she welcomed your invitation enthusiastically. “Time for you to tell me who you’ve been boning this whole time so much that you don’t have time for me!” she crowed, and you were so sure your whole department heard her screams through your receiver. “Kbye, see you Jess!” you tried to muffle your phone belatedly before hanging up on her.

“No shit, you’re dating Billy Russo?” Jessica said incredulously. “He’s way dangerous, Y/N! Good for you! Is he good in bed? He seems like the type,” she continued, wiggling her eyebrows as she swigged her drink. You were pretty sure she drank before coming to Ardesia, which was your favorite late-night haunt.

“Shhhh, shut up, Jessica!” she rolled your eyes at you and took another generous swig of her wine. She never liked “prissy drinks” but you loved this place, seeing you helped build it.

Your regular bartender, Julia, side-eyed Jessica with a laugh before placing a whole bottle in between you two. “I figured this’ll stop you guys from calling me every 2 seconds,” she said with a chuckle.

“So okay, spill! How did you guys meet?” Jessica pried, grabbing at your hand and shaking it so vigorously you almost literally spilled your wine on her. God, you missed Jessica. You guys had such a weird friendship. You were so strait-laced and traditional, making your uber-wealthy Upper East Sider parents happy with each and every decision you’ve ever made in your life. Jessica was the only thing that ever baffled them, but you’ve been best friends since kindergarten, when she socked a boy’s milk teeth off with a plastic truck for tugging at your braids. She’s been there ever since, and has taken up the role of (figuratively and literally) beating up guys for you, like the big sister you never had.

You told her that Anvil had met with your interior design firm to renovate some of their office floors for expansion, and you and Billy hit it off. Maybe you were a bad judge of character, and you knew he was probably bad news, but you guys hit it off. You passed on the project to one of your more senior associates to avoid professional conflict, of course, and in the few months you’ve been going out he really made you happy. “You probably think it’s stupid, Jess, but I think he’s the one.”

She suddenly clamped onto your arm. “I’d hold off on that if I were you,” she snapped, glaring at something (or someone) behind you. You turned slowly and saw Billy from the corner of your eye, arm wrapped around an extremely attractive woman at the other end of the bar.

“You want me to sock him?” Jessica asked sardonically.

“Jess!” you hissed, hitting her wrist.

“Her? Both? I’m not feeling very particular right now,” she was staring at them with narrowed eyes. You kept facing her, not wanting to see what was going in on at the other end of the bar. Your bar.

“Jess,” you whispered. She snapped out of her fury to look at you. Your face was blanched and you had a wide look in your eyes. “Babe, you’re gonna be fine, just focus on me, okay?” She kept her hand on your arm, squeezing it to keep you from having a full-blown panic attack.

“Why would he bring her here? He knows this is my place,” you mumbled, feeling violated. You hugged your arms together, trying to keep yourself from crying in a very public place.

Jessica rolled her eyes. “I fucking hate him. Come on!”

“Jess, no please!” Jessica strode over with the bottle of wine and you saw her douse them both with a very expensive red.

“What the fuck!” Billy shouted, scandalized. The woman bore the brunt of it, her expertly dyed platinum blonde hair turning a dark shade of plum.

“Yeah, what the fuck are you doing cheating on my friend!” Jessica shouted back, dropping the bottle at Billy’s feet, where it shattered into shards.

She stomped back towards you without another word and grabbed your arm to lead you out. Billy’s eyes widened when he saw you, but you looked away, not wanting to see those puppy dog eyes you won’t be able to resist.

“Y/N!” he shouted, leaping towards your retreating form. Jessica, with her superhuman strength, pushed him back, throwing him onto some watching bystanders.

“Don’t hurt him, Jess, let’s just go,” you whispered as calmly as you could. Don’t make a scene, don’t make a scene, don’t make a scene.

“Yeah, well, he deserves it,” she scoffed, marching you into a cab and taking you back to your apartment.

***

“Another?” Julia said, brandishing a bottle at you. You smiled at her; it was the first time you’ve set foot in this place after several months. “Yes, please,” you handed your empty wineglass to be refilled. You sat in comfortable silence, swilling your drink and enjoying the solitude. After all this time, this place was still your favorite. You just hoped you could exorcise that memory by drinking all the top shelf alcohol in the bar.

“Are you back for good?” she tried to make small talk. Your parents were supportive of you distancing yourself away from “that goon”, and you took a leave of absence from your company to while yourself away in your parents’ Hamptons estate. It was a good think that it was smack dab in the middle of summer when it happened, or you would have had bad weather during your hiatus.

“I think so,” you gave her a smile. It wasn’t her fault. It was Billy’s. It was months ago, but why are you still thinking of him like it just happened yesterday?

“Y/N?” Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” you asked. Without even looking, you knew it was Billy.

“I’ve been coming here every day since you left. I figured you’d come back eventually. I guess I was right.”

You still didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t think you could handle seeing him after all this time.

“Where did you go? You just disappeared,” he continued, placing a hand softly on your arm.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to disappear, Billy,” you said softly, coldly. You felt his grip clench against your arm as he blanched at your tone.

“Please let me explain. It wasn’t like that,” he said imploringly. You knew what would meet your eyes if you deigned to look at him.

“Look at me, please,” he whispered as if he knew why you weren’t looking at him on purpose.

“I’m done, Billy,” you said, resolutely refusing to look at him. You knew that if you did, all those months spent avoiding him would have been for nothing.

“I wasn’t cheating on you,” he replied. You looked at him in shock.

“Then what was that?” you smiled sardonically at him that he almost wished you would look away again.

“I was supposed to meet potential client, but he sent his daughter to bargain. Obviously, the deal fell through,” he said, gesturing to the wine you had on the bar counter.

“Why should I believe you?” you said suspiciously.

“Y/N, why would I bring someone here if I was cheating?” he implored. “This,” he gestured to the room. “This is your place. Our place. I would never – “He rubbed his nape with one hand in frustration.

“Then you just disappeared. Your office said you’d gone, and I couldn’t reach your number,” he sighed. “I’ve been looking for you for months.”

“I’m sorry, Billy,” you whispered. “I should have given you a chance to explain. I guess I got carried away with my friend’s advice, too.”

“Yeah, your friend’s something else,” he chuckled.

“She’s just trying to look out for me,” you replied, giving him a small smile. The first smile you gave him since he started the conversation.

“You’re all I could think about for months, Y/N,” Billy confessed. He took your hand in his and rubbed it with his fingers.

“Same. I kept thinking I would have enjoyed staying in the Hamptons if I were with you.”

“Can we start over? I promise I won’t hide stuff like this from you,” he said, looking into your eyes.

“Okay, and I promise not to overreact next time.”

He chuckled softly, taking your face in his hand and giving you a soft kiss. “You can overreact all you want, but promise me you won’t disappear like that. You have no idea how lonely I was this whole time.”

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #the punisher #marvel #spotify #song fics

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Where You’re Bound Pt. 12 (Final Chapter)

Dear sweet Followers, I never in all these years thought I’d be posting this. This is it. The end....THE. END. I cannot believe we’ve followed the Reader and Sam through this huge, horrible, long, sad, tear filled, sweet road. I can’t wait for you all to read this ending!! It was so bitter sweet. I loved this series and I loved writing it! That being said, I do have some new ones coming out!! YAY!!! and finishing some old ones!! Yay!! So be on the look out!! :) I love you guys! Thank you for making this story come to life!!! You never know, there maybe something in store for this series in the future! ;) P.S I may or may not be willing to add an epilogue to this series-only if its wanted! 

Donations

Where You Belong (Series 1)

Where You’ve Been (Series 2)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 

                                     Chapter 12-The Final Chapter! 

                Saying yes was the best choice you’d ever made in your life. Sam wanted you to have a grand wedding, and while the idea was appealing, you wanted to keep things small and intimate. Sam had decided that a new house would bring a new happiness to your future together. As you moved boxes in, Sam wrapped his arms around your waist, “I can’t believe this is real, you being back in my arms, about to become my wife. I feel like my life is complete.” He grinned kissing your cheek as you giggled.

               “The wedding is still four months away handsome.” You said smiling at him as you turned around in his arms, allowing him to take the boxes from your hands and set them down before pulling you in close. “I know, but you have your dress, I have my suit, why wait? We can do it right here in the backyard, what do you say?” Sam smiled.

               You looked at him with a surprised look, “Wait are you being serious?” you asked him, which made you smile. Sam couldn’t wait to make you his wife and you couldn’t wait to make him your husband. “Yes, I’m dead serious,” Sam said with a bright smile. You grinned and kissed him deeply. “Alright, let’s move up the wedding!” you kissed him again as he picked you up, carrying you upstairs as you giggled.

~6 weeks later~

               You paced your bedroom, your nerves getting the better of you, you’ve tried for two days to tell him and you still weren’t able to find the right words. You stopped in front of the mirror and stared at yourself, your ivory gown fit perfectly, hugging your torso just so. The sleeves were fitted perfectly, and the skirt was large and rounded, all satin, all beautiful. You loved staring at it. It was a simple gown and what made it more and more beautiful was the fact you were marrying Sam in it. The door opened and Sam stepped in. He froze when he laid eyes on you.

               “My god Y/N, you’re absolutely amazing, and stunning and beautiful…oh my god,” Sam walked over to you smiling brightly. Your worry showing clear on your features. “Sam I have to talk to you about something, and it’s serious so I need to tell you but you have to understand I haven’t know but for like two days and I wanted to say something but-” Sam chuckled putting his finger against your lips.

               “Baby, you’re rambling. What’s going on?” Sam asked sitting you down on the bed. He held both of your hands in his as you took a deep breath and looked up at him. “Sam I found out I’m-” the bedroom door opened and Dean stepped inside. “Dude, what the hell! You can’t see the bride before the wedding! It’s bad luck! Get your ass out!” he grabbed Sam’s arm and began leading him out. “I think we’ve gotten past our bad luck,” Sam grinned at you before pulling away from Dean. He walked over to you and slid his hands up along your jaw, cradling your face and kissed you deeply.

               Kissing him back felt like heaven with a double chocolate chip cookie and a glass of chocolate milk. He was your everything. “Alright alright Save it for the ceremony,” Johns voice broke the kiss, causing Sam to pass you a wink and a smirk. You got butterflies in your stomach as you grinned at him. “I  love you,” he whispered softly. “I love you more,” you whispered back.

               “Alright break it up love birds,” Dean walked over and dragged Sam out of the room before you had a chance to stop them.

               John smiled at you, “Y/N you look incredible,” Sam’s father grinned at you. You smiled thanking him softly, you’d pushed all thoughts of what you needed to tell Sam to the back of your mind, knowing that you’d just have to talk to him about everything after the ceremony. Which, you didn’t mind, you just had finally built up the courage to say something.

               Sam stood nervously at the small wooden alter he, his father and his brother had all built together. Cas sat with a very pregnant Ellen who beamed at Cas with happiness. Sam smiled at them, maybe that would be you and him one day. Truth be told, you and Sam hadn’t talked much about a future, you just knew you wanted to be with him forever and he wanted to be with you. But you hadn’t talked about having kids. How would you feel about that? Your childhood wasn’t so amazing, maybe you didn’t want kids. Sam would be okay with that; as long as he had you, he had the world, and he knew everything would be fine.

               You walked with John down the make shift isle that everyone had chipped in and put together. The moment your eyes landed on Sam a large grin covered your features. You didn’t pay attention to the twinkling lights that hung above your heads between the trees, or the pink and white flowers that surrounded you guys. It all looked incredible, but what really caught your eye was Sam, who stood there grinning, wearing a black tux and his hair was just slightly tussled from running his fingers through it.

               He looked incredibly handsome; you couldn’t get down the isle fast enough. Sam loved you more than anything in the world. You were the best woman he’d ever had and he’d made a huge mistake letting you go once, he wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

               You let go of Johns arm and gently kissed his cheek thanking him. The moment you stood in front of Sam it felt like the world had faded around the two of you. To anyone watching, it was like two halves of a soul were becoming one in that moment. No two better people had been made for each other.

               Through everything though, neither of you guys had stopped loving one another. You both knew that you’d found the one when you first met. Now, you were being pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Winchester and you couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply. Sam smiled into the kiss wrapping his arms around your waist lifting you off the ground some.

               As you and Sam made your way to the house for your reception, you stopped him. “Sam, now that we’re alone for a minute there’s something I really have to tell you…” you stopped yourself and looked up at him. He grinned at you, you were now his wife, and no matter what you said next he’d be able to handle it.

               “What’s on your mind Mrs. Winchester?” he beamed with pride as he looked down at you, calling you by your new official title. You smiled up at him and took his hands in yours, “Sam, I’m pregnant.” You said softly.

               Sam’s smile turned into a grin, “Are you serious??” he asked you, you grinned and nodded your head as he scooped you up in his arms and kissed you deeply. “you have no idea how happy you’ve made me Y/N! I’ve never been this happy before,” he laughed kissing you again.

               You grinned kissing him back, “So you’re okay with this then? Even though we don’t well, we haven’t talked about having a baby?” you asked as Sam set you down. “As long as I have you Y/N by my side, my life is perfect, and adding kids to that equation just makes it even better Y/N. because no matter what, you are most important. Forever and always.” Sam said kissing you deeply.

               Your childhood and even teenage life may have been hell and torture but the moment Sam entered your life, all that changed. Sam and you had finally found your happily ever after and nothing would keep you from spending the rest of your forever together.

@adriellej @sgarrett49 @smoothdogsgirl @mrssamfuckingwinchester @hobby27 @traceyaudette @mogaruke @thewalkingdistancefrom @booger206 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @heimganger @moonlitskinwalker @teamfreewill-imagine @stoneygirl @monkeymcpoopoo @sandlee44 @asgardianvamp21 @frozenhuntress67 @babypink224221 @just-another-busy-fangirl @flamencodiva @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @jaylarkson @auriel187 @animenerdz1819 @jessica-marsh09 @woodworthti666 

#supernatural sex #supernatural imagines #supernatural one shots #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural au #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfics #supernatural smut #supernatural sam winchester #supernatural series #supernatural #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester one shots #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester Fanfic #sam winchester fan fic #sam winchester fandom #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester #sam x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester imagine

[carewyncromwell]

To carey: What was the most diffult case you ever worked as a lawyer and why? To ana: What is your all time favourite book? & Did you ever consider working for the theater? To bat: What was the strangest question anyone ever asked you? & Did you actually read one of grims books? ^^

“Carey, what was the most difficult case you ever worked as a lawyer and why?”

[Carewyn takes time to consider this.]

“Most difficult...I’d say it’d have to be my friend Night Rhea’s. @nightrhea-hphm I had to prosecute the case -- I prosecuted almost all of the cases against ex-Death Eaters, after the War...even if I believed with all my heart that Night was innocent.”

Not just because of my Legilimency, but...well, knowing Night, I just couldn’t believe they didn’t have some greater reason for what they did. They’ve never been like the Death Eaters -- they’ve never been so spiteful or ignorant as that.

“It was hard to try to convict someone I didn’t want convicted in the first place. I’m just glad that I was able to help their attorneys enough that Night won their case and was set free.”

I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself, otherwise...

((OOC: I stumbled upon Jessica Chastain in the film Miss Sloane completely by chance, and uhhh...she is a PERFECT adult!Carewyn, I can’t even. She’s even got the right hair length and lipstick holy sheez))

“Ana, what is your all time favourite book? And did you ever consider working for the theater?”

All-time? How in the world do I pick just one?

“...Mm...well, The Last Unicorn is up there. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass too -- and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. If we’re counting plays, then Macbeth is wonderful...and if we’re talking manga series too, Sailor Moon is my favorite of those. Though I’m in the middle of rereading Ouran High School Host Club, and it really is even better than I remember it...”

[She trails off, realizing she kind of botched up the whole “all-time favorite” thing by listing off way more than just one favorite. She goes faintly pink and shrugs it off.]

“...Anyway...I do help out at the theater when I can, but I didn’t think I’d work there full-time ever, no. I love it, of course! Of course I do. But I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and well...that’s all there is to it.”

People always say you should follow your dreams, so why shouldn’t I follow mine? Even if I did end up having to work at the theater to pay the bills, I would still have been writing -- I know that for sure!

“Bat, what was the strangest question anyone ever asked you? And did you actually read one of Grim’s books?

[Bat actually starts to laugh. His amusement creates an odd crack in his usually serene expression, betraying a wonderful, handsome, youthful quality.]

“I actually had a Hogwarts student once who had enough gumption to ask me about the best method to ‘grow parts of his body.’”

[Why yes, Bat knew exactly what the student had wanted to do, even if he hadn’t explicitly said so to the vampire’s face.]

“I told the boy if he was really so determined to do it that one could apply an Engorgement Charm, but that he aught to master it by practicing on things that weren’t attached to him first, so as to not end up in the Hospital Wing having to answer a lot of uncomfortable questions. I also reminded him that bigger does not mean better and that he really should just drink his milk and eat his greens like everybody else.”

[The mention of Grim’s books @cursebreakerfarrier makes Bat’s scarlet eyes light up with very keen interest.]

“‘Books?’ You mean to tell me that old Grim has written not just a book, but multiple books, and he has not told me?”

[His lips spread into a full, fanged smile.]

“Well, this most definitely is something I’ll have to address straight-away.”

((OOC: I want Bat to read Grim’s books, but I don’t know what they’re about or when Grim would’ve finished them in their timeline (since in his profile I see he’s working on one), so I’m playing it off as Bat having just not learned that particular tidbit yet.))

Voice Ask!

#carewyn cromwell #anastasia read #bartholomew varney #roleplaying #night rhea #atticus grimsley #other people's mcs

[hobbieswithcoffee]

Chapter 1.3

Molly stepped into the house, and shut the door behind her. One of Molly's roommates, a girl named Serena, was sitting on the couch and gave Molly a smile. She was beautiful, with skin the color of an oak tree, hair that seemed to change with the seasons but right now was shaped into a stylish mohawk, and a body that Molly wished she had when she was feeling especially resentful toward herself. Molly returned the smile in a shape that was almost a grimace and fled to the kitchen. It almost hurt to be around Serena, such a beautiful, successful woman who seemed to have her life figured out while Molly....well...

Molly opened the fridge, but realized that she wasn't especially hungry. Instead, she retired to her bedroom and plopped onto the bed. She organized her pillows and blankets until she made a nest for herself, and opened her laptop. Molly slipped into pure and warm coziness, soft safety radiating around her. She opened up a streaming service, found something brainless, and gratefully slipped into it.

The time passed too quickly, as usual, and Molly realized that she had gained her appetite. However, the softness of her blankets worked to seduce her with a tempting case to stay. For a time, she ignored her stomach telling her what she wished to ignore, but eventually could ignore it no longer. Molly pushed her nest apart and stepped into the kitchen. She grabbed a box of mac and cheese from the cupboard, washed a saucepan that was sitting in the sink (had she left it there?), filled it with water, and put it on the stove to wait for it to boil. Serena still sat on the couch, looking at something on her laptop. Maybe researching some new psych material? Who knew. Molly ignored her, and glanced at her phone. She found her last conversation with Tiff and wrote a new message.

Are you here? She wrote. She could see Tiff immediately start to type out a reply.

I'm at work

Molly furrowed her brows with surprise. How are you at work?

Uh, I just am?

How did I not SEE you??

The timer on the microwave beeped and Molly poured out the noodles and water into a strainer.

I was in the back. Tiff followed her message with a selfie of herself, in the back of the coffee shop with the cash register, obviously counting up money.

How long have you been counting registers? It doesn't take that long. Molly grabbed butter, milk from the fridge, and poured that along with cheese powder into her noodles and started mixing her concoction.

Mind your own business. It's better than hanging out with Jessica and Sarah in the front.

Jessica, Molly thought to herself. That was her name.

Molly smiled. I guess I get the honor of hanging with them, huh? That's a cute pic by the way. Molly poured her finished mac and cheese into a bowl.

Uh huh. You need something?

Molly paused for a moment, and then screen captured a conversation from tinder and sent it to Tiff. The conversation said:

Molly: Ok, I'll see you there!

Two days later

Noah: Hey, I kind of wanted to reach out. I know things were a little awkward, but I still had a fun time. Maybe we could try again??

The message was dated a month ago.

Molly followed up with screenshot with a message to Tiff that said, Do you think it's too late to get back to him?

Wha?

Do you think it would be weird for me to talk to him? Or, like, did I miss my chance?

Who says you CAN'T get back to him?

Molly paused. She took a few bites of her mac and cheese. I don't know. Maybe he's not interested anymore.

Maybe you should let him make that decision, rather than assuming it? Did you have fun with him?

Yeah, I did. I just kind of fucked it up. It was around that time, you know? But I guess he wanted another date. It felt too embarrassing to reach out to him, but now things feel...less chaotic I guess? Like maybe I can handle it. I keep on thinking about him.

Then go for it!

Molly smiled. Yeah. You're right.

Duh.

Have fun with work.

Yeah, yeah. A better use of time than whatever the hell you're doing.

Probably. Butttt today is my Friday~

Molly smiled, put her finished mac and cheese bowl into the sink, and returned back to her room. She put the phone down onto the bedside table, put the charger into it, and remade her nest. She let the warmth settle into her, more confident now that she had finally made a decision. Even if she put off acting on that decision until tomorrow.

#anime #slice of life #sliceoflife #story #love story #friendship #roommates #book #books

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday @jessiembruno

Wacky Drabble 32:  Papi Had A Rollin Stone

Prompt: I never lied to you.

Liam, Jessica, Leo, and Drake

It’s been a loooooong time since I wrote one of these. I just had to make time for this lovely friend who I first read and met when we were among only a handful who posted the very first wacky drabbles for @emceesynonymroll​ last summer

Jessie gave me ideas for plots and scenarios she wanted me to write for her…mostly revolving around, her Leo, who I freaking adore. It will not be anywhere close to as good or funny as she writes Leo, but I gave it my best effort. The best I could guess when it comes to writing for him is, anything goes. If it popped into my head, I had none of my usual reservations and just typed it out…lol

Jess, you are one of the sweetest and funniest people I’ve met here. I’m so glad to call you a friend. I hope you have an awesome birthday!!!

***This was soooo inspired by a FRIENDS episode and some of the dialogue comes from it, with some creative differences to accommodate Drake and Leo’s part. (The One Where Phoebe Gives Birth).

THE PALACE–CORDONIA

Liam had grown tired of the neverending, annoying pregnancy symptoms. Nine months of mood swings, weird midnight cravings, stealing his shirts because nothing else fit anymore, waking up at all hours of the night because of a bad dream about the baby, and the constant crying at the drop of a hat.

Leo had become too much.

When it came to pregnant Jessica,  Liam would bend over backward to make her comfortable;  he was surprised that he rarely had to.  She possessed that strong Garcia blood in her veins with a tenacity and strength that left him in awe of her. 

Leo, however, had become an even bigger pain in his ass since Jessica announced her pregnancy. From the beginning, Leo had inserted himself into every facet of the pregnancy; from claiming equal importance, referred to the baby as “our baby,“  fought with him over feeling the baby’s first kicks,  and considered Liam – the baby’s father – the third wheel.

Sympathy pains were just one of his latest nuisances to pop up.

Liam walked back to his quarters after a long, arduous day in the office. He was exhausted from a lack of sleep after Leo woke him up last night with indigestion. Liam questioned why Leo would enter his quarters, walked past the kitchen and awakened him for a glass of milk at midnight. Apparently, Leo wanted to also be held and reassured the baby would be okay. Jessica offered to get up with him but Liam insisted she stay in bed and rest and he would take care of his brother. He really wanted to take care of his brother.

Leo cried to him for three hours, wondering if he was still desirable and sexy before he finally fell asleep on the couch. 

Liam wanted the old Leo back … the one who used his credit card to buy everyone at that Greek bar a drink without him knowing, who got him sloppy drunk and married him off to a stranger – that he also had a threesome with that bride on the same night – who had caught Liam masturbating into Jessica’s shoe while he cried his eyes out over her. He would gladly take back that Leo.  This newest Leo was weird as fuck.

Liam pulled out the key card to his quarters, swiped it through the keypad, and had just opened the door when he heard his name being called from behind him. A member of the maintenance staff approached with several white take-out bags stuffed with styrofoam containers. 

“What is all this?” Liam asked curiously of the elder man who he once caught in the laundry room with Regina, holding two large hamsters and a container of Crisco.

“Sir, I have a DoorDash from … let me seeee … Pickled Pink, for Queen Jessica and Prince Leo.” The man shifted the large bags around in his arms then passed the heavy load over to Liam. 

Liam looked over the bags that he struggled to carry in his arms and hoped Jessica’s pelvis was wide enough to birth their inevitable 30-pound baby after eating all this food. His pants started to tighten just thinking about Jessica’s even more curvaceous hips. A lot more cushion meant even tighter pushin. The guard noticed and began to wonder if it was he who was making the king salivate and bulge in his pants.

”Your Majesty,” he stated with a suggestive tone, “I’ve got a couple of minutes to burn if you wanna … you know.”  The maintenance man repeatedly thrust his tongue into the inside of his cheek and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“GOD NO!! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!! AND STAY THE HELL OUT OF MY LAUNDRY ROOM!”

While doing a balancing act with Leo and Jessica’s DoorDash, Liam turned and nudged the door open with his shoulder. After entering his quarters, he turned the corner into the living room. 

“Squeeze … hold … release … and squeeze … hold … release …”

Liam’s eyes went wide when he saw Leo and Jessica sitting on the floor, their backs leaned against the front of the couch and their legs stretched out in front of them. Scattered around them were several empty containers of Chinese, boxes of pizzas, what appeared to be Dorito taco bowls, bags of peanut M&M’s dispersed across the floor, and half-empty glasses of strawberry milkshakes. 

With their eyes closed in full concentration mode, they hadn’t noticed Liam was standing there, glaring at them in bewilderment.

Leo’s measured voice continued to call out. “Squeeze … and hold … and release …”

“What the fuck happened in here and what are you two doing?”

Leo’s eyes popped open and he looked to his younger brother, answering matter-of-factly. “Just what it looks like, pendejo - we’re doing our Kegels.”

Liam furrowed his brow. “Leo … you don’t have a … uhh …”

Leo rolled his eyes and huffed exaggeratingly. “Don’t need it; Papi Chulo likes to keep the Big Mushroom thick and robust. Watch what I can do.” Leo leaned over to the end table and picked up a paperweight. He placed it on the crotch of his gym shorts, moved his hands to the side, and started moving it up and down with only his carajo. “I can lift a brick with this power tool … pretty impressive, huh?  Ohhh is that my fried pickles?

Liam grimaced and shook his head – somewhat in disgust of watching his brother power lift his great-grandfather’s paperweight with his dick, and the other part from the increased food consumption.

“You ordered all 10 of these fried pickle containers for yourself?”

“God, Liam, no!  Do you think I’m some kind of animal?  One of them is for Jessica.”

“Yeah, that’s … that’s much better.” Liam replied sardonically before he dropped all of the bags onto Leo’s lap and watched in disgust as he and Jessica began to ravage through them.

Liam slid a pizza box to the side and cleared a path of garbage to walk over to Jessica, who smiled at him with a mouthful of fried pickles. He bent down and placed a kiss on the top of her forehead. “Kegels, huh?” He smirked a twinkle in his bright blue eyes, getting charged over the prospect of her tightness around him. “I’ll try to forget the fact that you’re doing them with …  my brother.”

Jessica chewed and swallowed hard, while Liam’s thumb wiped the ranch dressing from the corner of her mouth. “He’s a good workout partner, Liam. Drake never wants to do Kegels with me anymore.”

Leo laughed out loud with a mouthful of food that flew everywhere. “That’s because Drake is already a pussy!”

Liam crouched down beside Jessica and took hold of both of her greasy hands. “Come on, love, let’s get you off the floor and somewhere more comfortable.”

 As Liam pulled her up from the floor, Jessica felt a gush of fluid stream down her legs, leaving a very visible wet mark down the insides of her yoga pants.

Jessica peeked down and saw the remnants of wetness left behind. She looked back up at Liam. “Shit! I think my water just broke!!”

Without warning or hesitation, a frantic Leo tossed his food aside, jumped up, and shoved Liam out of the way. “Oh, God! It’s HAPPENING!! The baby is coming now?! I haven’t sterilized the apartment yet!  We haven’t checked the durability of your nipples! The mucus plug is still intact! How will the baby come out now?!?! Oh, the fucken humanity!!!” Leo glanced down to the ground where a stunned Liam was hunched over on all fours. “Dammit! Liam now isn’t the time to lay around! Call for a fucken car … our baby is coming!!”

“LEO!!!” Liam shouted while he pushed himself up from the floor and wrapped his arms protectively around Jessica.

Liam instructed Leo to get Drake and have the white Navigator ready out front while he took  Jess upstairs to change and clean up. 

Leo nodded to Liam, called him a jizzslobber, and agreed to do exactly as he was told.  After Leo ran and slid out the door of his quarters, Liam pulled the phone from the inside of his suit pocket and hit the contact for Bastien. “Bastien, I need you to meet Jessica and me in the black Navigator parked in the service garage, ASAP.”

Jessica rubbed her hands over her swollen tummy as she walked with Liam up the stairs and turned to him “I thought you told Leo we were taking the white one?”

Liam grinned wide. “Change of plans, my love.”

SERVICE GARAGE-PALACE

After Liam helped Jessica clean up and change, he grabbed their hospital bag and climbed inside the black SUV where Bastien was waiting. Just as they pull out of the gates, Leo and Drake popped their heads up from the third-row seat.  “AHA!!! I knew it!!”

Startled, Liam twisted around to face him. “Leo! What the fuck are you doing in here? I told you to get the white SUV.”

Leo crossed his arms on the back of Liam’s seat and sneered at him. “I knew you were trying to pull some fast shit. You didn’t look me in the eyes, little brother, and you were squirmy as fuck. Everyone knows that’s the telltale sign of lying.  I’ve never lied to you, except that one time I told you it was Drake that left the KY jelly and anal plug in your office desk. They were mine. Besides, Jessica texted me and told me your plan about the switcheroo. The lies keep piling up, Liam. It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Liam clenched his jaw and turned to Jessica. “Why would you tell him that, love?”

Jessica shrugged. “He’s my focal point for breathing. I need him.”

Drake ran a hand down his face and spoke up. “How the fuck did I get dragged into this? I swear to God if I see your snatch, Garcia, I’m gonna fucken annihilate your focal point.”

Liam snapped his head toward Drake and gawked. “NO ONE IS SEEING JESSICA’S … PRIVATE AREA!”

Leo flicked his hand dismissively and patted Jessica on the shoulder.  “Don’t listen to him, Jess. Remember …  listen to my voice … find your inner sanctum … your aura perimeter…ooohhhhhmmmm.” He closed his eyes and placed his hands near both sides of his head with his middle fingers touching his thumbs. “Oohhhhmmmmm …”

Drake smacked a hand to his own forehead before he shouted, “Bastien!! Let me out of this fucken SUV! I’m not listening to this fucken shit all the way there. I’ll fucken walk the rest of the way.”

Before Bastien could acknowledge him, Jessica plunged forward and clutched her stomach. “Owwwww! I think I’m having a contraction!!!” 

This only made Leo go louder. “OOOHHHHHHMMMMMMM.”

Liam reached for Jessica’s hand and squeezed it tighter. “It’s okay, love. I’m here. Listen to MY voice.”

It was a continuous cycle of,  “Ooohhhmmm”s” and “Owwww’’s” and “Let me the fuck outs” and “It’s okay, my love’s” all the way to the hospital.

CORDONIA MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

The SUV pulled into the private entrance of the hospital where paparazzi were already waiting.

Liam stepped out, cursing to himself over the assumed leak to the press, and helped Jessica slide out his side of the vehicle.

Bastien and Drake immediately began shuffling the crowds to the side and yelling at them to get back.

Leo followed closely behind Jessica and Liam and reached into his pants pocket. “Hey, Liam!” he yelled.  

Liam turned to face him. “What?”

Leo threw a pink glitter bomb that landed squarely in the middle of Liam’s chest, which created a sparkly poof of epic proportions around him.

Liam started coughing ferociously and rubbed his itchy eyes. “Leo! You motherfucker! Why in the blue hell did you just do that?” He continued to cough and wipe the shit ton of pink glitter that was plastered on his shirt and spread into his golden hair.

Jessica covered her face while she snickered uncontrollably. “You really got him good, Leo.”

Leo swiped the air around him to avoid the tiny particles of glitter floating through the breeze. “Look, man, it was getting entirely too serious back there. Jessica and my gummy bear need a stress free aura perimeter. See how happy she looks now?”

Jessica picked a piece of the glitter off her tongue and wiped it on Liam’s shirt: “I do feel happier now that my aura perimeter has become more sparkly. Thanks, Leo!”

Leo stood taller and winked at his brother. “Told ya!”

Liam shook his head and let out a heavy, sigh. “Let’s just get in here … and both of you leave your damn aura perimeters outside!”

MATERNITY WING –EXAM ROOM

Inside the exam room, Jessica was dressed in a hospital gown and laid on the bed hooked up to the monitors. Liam was at one side stroking her hair, and of course, Leo was on the other side drawing faces with boobs on balloons he made of out of latex gloves and assigned each one hooker names from Cordonian nobles. Musty Madeleine, Hootered Hana, and Deepthroat Savannah. The last one was, Choke-A-Bitch Bertrand – their spoon lovin pimp.

Jessica felt another sharp pain spread across her stomach and bore down harder onto Liam’s hand. “ FUCK!!!! THIS HURTS!!!”

Liam’s face fell into her busting cleavage and yelped, “ Love, my hand..my hand…my hand!”

Leo was getting frustrated by the wait and swept aside his lineup of rubber hookers and the one peculiar-looking pimp. “Wheres the fucken doctor at? Gummy bear could be coming out right now and no one is here to catch her. I guess I’ll have to save our baby!! Leo shuffled to the end of the bed and started to lift the sheet that draped over Jessica’s leg before Liam yelled for him to stop.

“Fucken Liam! You’re supposed to be ohming and not yelling at me!” 

“Fuck your ohhhmm bullshit, Leo! It’s stupid anyway.”

Leo shifted his posture and took a more defensive stance. “Take it back Liam…I mean it.”

“Go ohm yourself, Leo.”

 Jessica gripped the sides of her bed and yelled out, “IM STILL IN PAIN!!! AHHHHH!”

Leo suddenly felt a ripping pain and grasped his lower stomach before he fell to his knees. “AHHHHHHH! What the hell is that?”

Liam massaged soothing circles over Jessica’s arm, deliberately ignoring the fact that Leo had just crumpled to the floor. “Sweetheart, I love you so much, just breathe through the pain.”

Leo cried out, “I’m trying,  but it’s not helping…ahhhhhh!!”

Liam had become frustrated with Leo long before this day began but now felt he was taking these sympathy pains to the extreme. 

Drake knocked on the door and slowly inched his way in while covering his eyes with his hand. “ Everything okay, you guys? Thought I heard a fucken hyena in here.”

Leo tried to stand, but the pain ripped through him even more, causing him to lurch back to the ground. “ Ahhh! It’s this pain in my lower stomach. I knew I shouldn’t have fucked that cashier in a White Castle bathroom without a rubber!!!”

Liam could tell by his brother’s writhing in the fetal position on the floor that he really was in a lot of pain. On the flip side, this would be the perfect opportunity to get Leo the hell out of here. He cleared his throat, “Drake, would you mind taking Leo to get checked out? I’m really concerned about him.”

Drake lowered the hand that covered his eyes and his gaze immediately fell on Leo. “You gotta be fucken kidding me? There’s nothing wrong with this douchebag that a few days worth of strong antibiotics and ointments wouldn’t clear up.”

“NO! I have to be here for the birth of our baby! If she sees Liam’s ass chin before I can prepare her, the results could be disastrous!”

Liam scrunched up his face and placed a finger over his chin. He didn’t have an ass chin and had no idea what the hell Leo was talking about. With a desperate look in his eyes, he turned to his oldest friend. “Please, Drake.”

Drake pinched his nose for a moment then dropped his hand to his side to reluctantly approach Leo and help him up. “Fuck it! Come on.” He placed one of Leo’s arms around his neck then Drake wrapped his arm around the sides of his waist and led him to the door; Leo shouted Spanish, and what sounded like a cricket in his ear the entire way. As they made their way past Liam, Leo stopped long enough to give his brother some last-minute advice before he parted. “She’s not wearing a bra or panties right now, hombre. I packed an extra shoe in her bag in case your kinky ass needs to choke your monkey. Kapeesh?”

CORDONIA MEMORIAL HOSPITAL-EMERGENCY ROOM

Leo was lying partially on his side, holding his stomach,  while Drake stood next to the head of his hospital bed. A doctor studied an x-ray that hung to a viewer on the far wall, then flipped the light off of it, removed the film and turned to face Leo and Drake.

Leo glared at the doctor, “What is it, doctor? You can tell me. I can take it…is it The Clap? Its the Clap isn’t it? Oh God! I got The Clap, Drake!! Why does all the bad shit happen to me?”

“Don’t talk to me, Leo,” Drake groaned. 

The doctor inched closer to the men, “Mr. Rhys…its not..the clap…I’m afraid you have kidney stones.”

“What? Kidney stones? Is that like slang for Gonorrhea?”

“No, sir. Its slang for kidney stones.”

Leo returned a half-hearted smile. “Doctor…Wh…what else could it be?”

 “Kidney stones.”

“Orrrr?”

“Kidney stones.”

 “But if it was something else…”

Drake had finally had enough of the back-and-forth exchange and yelled out, “Its fucken kidney stones Leo! You’ve got rocks in your pee-pee man!”

Leo’s eyes widened and his gaze went from Drake and back to the doctor.” Is that true? How do I get them out doc? I can’t be smashing some chics ass with rocks weighing down my Papi cock, I got a rep to maintain.”

The doctor regarded him thoughtfully. “Ordinarily, we try to break the stones up with shock waves, but yours are too close to the bladder. This means we can either wait for you to pass them … or … we can go up the urethra.

Drake began to chuckle before he clapped Leo on the shoulder. “You are sooo fucked dude.”

Leo shrugged Drake’s hand off of him and shook his head. “FUCK THAT! NOTHING IS GOING UP ANYTHING. UP IS NOT AN OPTION…WAIT…WHATS A URETHRA?

“It’s the hole you piss out of, man.”

Leo’s head snapped back to the doctor. “ ARE YOU FUCKEN CRAZY?!”

30 minutes later

Leo was screaming on the bed while he jerked Drake around in a headlock. “Ohh! Get these things out of me!”

“Breathe! Breathe through the fucken pain, Leo!” Drake instructed while Leo continued to bounce his head around.

“I want the drugs, Drake! I want the drugs!” he cried out while rocking back and forth, taking Drake with him.

“I do too! I do too!”

5 more minutes later

Leo was laying back on his pillow, recovering from one of the most painful experiences of his life as he sought to catch his breath. “Oh my God.”

Drake squeezed Leo’s arm with a look of pride in his eyes. “You did it, man. That was fucken incredible, Leo!”

The doctor approached the two with a small, clear contain that held the two kidney stones Leo had just passed. He shook it in front of him, “Would you like to see them?”

Leo nodded and reached out to take it from him. He held them in front of his face and Drake leaned in closer to get a better look. Leo smiled at them. “They’re so small, Drake.” 

A knock on the door pulled the two men from their attention on the tiny, ragged stones Leo held affectionately in his hand. They looked up to see Liam entering the room.

“Hey! I heard what happened. Are you okay, Leo?:

“Yeah. My dick hurts like a motherfucker, but in the end –” he held up the container, “–I have these two little cuties to show for it.”

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#liam x mc #liam and jess #prince leo #choices trh #happy birthday jessica

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 64

The aftermath of Jocelyn’s visit to Alexandria changed our world in far more reaching ways than just the loss of my baby and Daryl leaving. We locked down. We became more insular. We stopped visiting other communities. Hilltop and the Kingdom were almost mythical it seemed. The Sanctuary, it went under, quickly. Carol’s leadership couldn’t bandage the lack of land to grow things, the lack of unity that Negan’s power had ensured, and the deaths of his people at the hands of their victims was one final straw.

Former Saviors, the ones that assimilated and weren’t killed for their past indiscretions found homes in the remaining communities. Michonne, calling her ‘Mom’ was as natural to me it seemed as inhaling, became more careful. She wanted RJ, Judith, and the other children to be safe. As safe as she could make Alexandria with the dangers lurking just outside our walls. And so, she pushed aside her one time dream of a unified group. Her urge to create a charter, a treaty between our people dropped. Her maternal instincts coupled with her warrior nature won out.

Judith and I still visited Negan. He was given more light, the window that had been boarded opened. He got a cot. He was allowed books. His prison became more livable, even if it was still captivity. Without Daryl to occupy part of my time, without the need to take care of my sister and my new brother, I spent more time with him.

He and Judith continued to play. First it was ball, then as she grew and became more inquisitive, he and I would take turns telling her stories. I spent the visits that I made to him alone, with my side pressed against the bars of his cell, feeling his heat mirrored against his side. I was on the free side of the cage, yet I was just as imprisoned as he was. We talked, and talked. I made sure he never felt that same darkness that forced him to ask Maggie for death and he made me realize that letting go of my baby girl might be simpler if she had a name.

“Surely you and Daryl had ideas.” He offered, our fingers linked together through the bars. “Give her a name, sweetheart.”

I sighed, and let my fingers trace the length of his. It sounded simple. It could be. But I couldn’t, not alone. “I’ll have to go to him,” it was a breath, but Negan heard me. “She was his baby too.”

He didn’t flinch. Or sigh. Or make any sign that it irritated him that I’d be leaving Alexandria to go to Daryl to have this conversation. It had been weeks since I’d seen him. I knew where he was, everyone who should know did. He was back at the site. Back where Dad had disappeared. Back to his search, which he felt was more important, more conductive to his pain than being with me.

“Then go,” he offered, but his hand didn’t leave mine. “But be safe, be smart, and come the fuck back to me, princess.”

I left a day later. I had to prepare. Daryl hunted, but God knew what he’d consider food at this point. Supplies, a horse, and I had to take Judith aside and explain. I wouldn’t leave her without a goodbye. Without assurances that I would make it back to her. Without telling her I loved her and she needed to be good for Mom. And so, hugging Mom, giving RJ a kiss on his soft and sweet smelling forehead, and one more hug and kiss to Judith, I was off.

My trip was uneventful. Few walkers approached, and those that did were easily dispatched. Knives and arrows, how quickly we learned to adapt. I heard the river before I saw it. I saw his early warning system before I saw him. And then I was at his camp, a dog approaching me with curiosity.

“DOG!” His voice sounded harsh from disuse. And I realized he probably only spoke to the dog, aptly named, and sparingly. The brown haired animal rushed back to Daryl’s side and I looked up at the man I once would have happily died for. Would I still? “Jessi.” He bobbed his head and gestured toward his makeshift seating arrangement around his campfire.

I sat and he joined me, biting his lip. “You look-” dirty, tired, miserable all came to mind. “Good.” It came out as lame as I felt. Why was I here? Right. “I-”

“Still as beautiful as the day I first saw ya.” I blinked back the pain in my chest and swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Missed ya.”

I nodded absently. Then why’d you leave? Why was camping by the damn river better than laying next to me and working through our grief together? I said none of it. Why bother? “I think we should name her.” It came out in a rush. Not my intention, but it did. “I can’t-WE can’t let her go if she doesn’t have a name.” My eyes were on the rushing water and I nearly missed Dog coming closer to me. And then his soft head was on my knee and my fingers slid through his rough fur. Soothing, just like I’d read during my short stint in college. Petting animals helped calm anxiety. “She deserves that much.”

“Jessi-” I shook my head. This wasn’t about us. This was only about HER. “You could have-”

“She was OURS,” I met his eyes finally, feeling all my pain and anger coming up. “I shouldn’t HAVE to do it alone.” I stood up, scaring Dog a bit, forcing him away from me. Walking to the bank of the river I watched the rush of the current, wishing like hell that my dad was here. “You can search for Dad, you can hide in a tent and adopt a dog, but you can’t name our baby.” I gave a snort of false humor. “Hard shit, sign up Daryl Dixon, the more simple it sounds he likes to sit that shit out.”

“You coulda died.” He was closer than I expected and I cursed his ninja-like feet. “You coulda died. We coulda lost Judith. And I couldn’t do shit to stop either fucking thing.”

“Our baby did die,” I was sure he was close enough to hear me over the water. “She’s gone, and we don’t get another chance, and she’s laying under the dirt. She’s alone and she doesn’t even have a fucking name.”

I didn’t fight him when he wrapped his arms around me from behind. I didn’t pull away when his chin propped on top of my head. I let my tears, the ones I’d held back for the most part after RJ was born, fall. Our little girl deserved so much fucking more. Than this. Than us.

“I’m sorry.” It fluttered my hair, his apology. “I have fucked up at every fucking turn with ya, Jessi Grimes.” I shrugged. Cannot unspill milk or unbreak eggs. “I couldn’t stay and see how-”

“Broken I was?” Sighing, I could feel Dog’s body sit next to my legs. “I’m fine. It’s fine.” It wasn’t, not really, but this is me. I reassure. I let go. “Let’s name her, and I’ll go home, and you can keep searching.” For a pipe dream. For a man who is as gone as our little girl.

I was home before dark. Mom seemed shocked. Judith was extremely happy. And Negan was relieved.

“You look tired, princess.” He was seated on his cot, but stood as I walked down the stairs. I pushed the chair closer to his cell and practically collapsed into it.

“Don’t get up,” I waved him off from standing, I was tired enough for the both of us. “I am tired.” I smiled at him. “And I probably smell like wet dog.” He chuckled and stayed seated. “I didn’t expect to go and be back so soon. Not that I’m not grateful.”

“Daryl come back with you?” His worry, no doubt. I shook his head. “Damn fool.” My smile grew.

“You’re biased.” I sat forward and touched the bars in front of me. “We named her.” I heard the springs of the cot squeak with his body shifting. “I had to stop by one of our more artistic people’s places, I want her grave marked properly.”

“What did you pick?” My eyes met his and I could see true interest. “What’s your little girl’s name?”

“Wren Mae Grimes-Dixon.” I smiled, thinking of how tiny she was and how the wren was a delicate bird. I brushed away an errant tear. “The man who I stopped to see, he’s making her a cross engraved with her name and-”

“A wren?” I nodded. “It’s a beautiful name, sweetheart. She would have been-”

“Would have.” I clutched at the bars in front of me. “WOULD HAVE.” I glared. It wasn’t fair. Why did my baby have to pay the ultimate price? Why did I have to KEEP paying? “I can’t decide if I’m pissed that you let me live to feel this. Or if I’m pissed that she didn’t turn inside me and take me with her.”

“Jessi,” I could hear his pain and fear. The pain of my loss and grief coupled with the fear of me slipping away again.

“It comes in waves.” I brushed more burning tears away. “I don’t want to die, but fuck if it doesn’t suck to live.” Closing my eyes against the feelings, the pain and anger. “I got to hold her.” I hadn’t told him. I didn’t want to relive the pain. “She was perfect. So fucking perfect, even when they put the needle through her tiny fucking skull ‘just in case’.” I felt the sob come and didn’t stop it. “She should be here.” It hurt. The steady beat of my own heart like a traitor. “She should have cried. She should have been demanding for my milk. Dirty diapers should be my reality, MY DAUGHTER’S dirty diapers.” Instead, I have my brother’s. Again. “I’m sorry,” fuck why now? I’d felt so much better on the way home. So good when I commissioned her grave marker. And now? Now I felt it all like it was new. “I don’t know-”

“Because you bottle it up, Jessi.” He was in front of me, his fingers touching mine. “You push it away, you move forward. That’s Jessica Grimes.” I looked up at him and saw his smile. “Stop being so fucking brave, princess. Let it out.” The tears were leaving burning paths down my cheeks. “Stay. Stay with me here, go up, ask them to lock you inside with me, but don’t fucking go back to Michonne and Judith tonight. Give yourself this ONE FUCKING NIGHT to be taken care of.” I closed my eyes. “It’s not a request, princess, it’s a command. Go up to whatever moron is lurking upstairs, tell them to open the damn door of this fucking cage and lock you in.” I didn’t move. “Let me hold you tonight, Jessi. Let me hold you while you fucking grieve finally. Please?”

It was easier than I expected, getting locked in the cell with Negan. I left my weapons easily with the guard, and then I was cradled in his arms, laying on top of him on his cot as he whispered comfort to me while I cried.

#The Walking Dead #negan x ofc #miscarriage #grief/mourning #daryl dixon x ofc #OriginalGrimesDaughter #rick grimes daughter