#oh no..... some months of physical activity if youre fit for it......... oh No.....

[thanksveryga]

yknow i wrote a minipaper on our conscript army in lithuania last year and the consensus was "useful in some cases, redundant in others" as it happens with most things but switzerland's song this year inspired me to change my opinion to "i love mandatory military service" because boy what the fuck lmao

#cilly.txt #oh no..... some months of physical activity if youre fit for it......... oh No..... #yeah yeah now the country that hasnt warred for 200 years is gonna preach to us in the ukrainian eurovision #no one's asking you to be a soldier why don't you go donate 5 euros to blue and yellow #sorry im really salty about this song #doesnt help that its a FUCKING BALLAD too

[jobean12-blog]

Protecting What’s His

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader (Bodyguard AU)

Word Count: 2,590

Summary: Bucky has been your bodyguard for some time now and it’s been hard to deny how badly you want him to be more than that. 

Author’s Note: All these new pics of long haired beefy Seb have got me thinking and I thought I’d try a crack at Bodyguard AU. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirty tension, some fluff, Bucky is a bit serious and grumpy but he’s soft, mention of s-c-ar-s, a moment of slight p-a-ni-c in the elevator 

Bucky holds the door of the elevator open and motions for you to step inside. You walk in and plant yourself along the far wall. Once Bucky is inside he presses the button to close the door.

He dwarfs the entire elevator.

A heavy silence falls between you and your entire body zings with hyperawareness. You try to control your breathing so he won’t notice how affected you are but you’re already concerned it’s written all over your face.

It’s been several months since he’d started being your bodyguard and every one of them has been pure torture. Every inch of him is intimidating with his broad shoulders and thick biceps and legs that go on forever but it’s his eyes that really draw you in. A beautiful blue color like the ocean, framed by long, dark lashes and filled with a softness that contradicts everything about his physical presence.

As ex-military he’s more than qualified for the job and he takes it seriously. He seems to take everything seriously, that’s why making him smile has become one of your favorite pastimes.

As the elevator moves downward you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His dark blue tailored suits fits perfectly, accentuating all of the aforementioned yummy parts of him.

“Did you enjoy the party?” you ask in a teasing voice.

He’s so focused on his job that you’ve rarely seen him indulge in any of the fun activities he escorts you to but this party had been particularly enjoyable.

His expression softens slightly and you even seen the corner of his mouth turn up.

“I had fun watching you have fun,” he states, matching your teasing tone.

You look up and grin at him.

His gaze turns intense once again as his eyes drop to your mouth.

You open your mouth to ask how come he didn’t even steal a glass of champagne to indulge when the elevator jolts, metal creaking and squeaking as it stops.

It throws you off balance and you fall back against the mirrored walls.

“Are you alright doll?” he asks as he reaches out a hand to steady you, his brow furrowed with concern.

A sliver of fear runs through you. “Are we stuck?”

He reaches over to press the ground floor button, and nothing happens. “I think so.”

Your eyes dart around the small space and you feel the tightness of anxiety starting to make your breathing difficult.

His eyes narrow and he pulls his cell phone from his pocket, quickly typing something.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

You start to feel light headed and your fingertips tingle as your panic increases.

“Doll face.”

Your chest heaves with your struggled breathing.

A large, warm hand settles on your bare back and you look up to find his head bent toward yours.

“Are you feeling claustrophobic?”

You nod rapidly.

“It’s ok,” he assures you, pulling you closer to his body. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”

You do just that, imagining you’re sitting on the sand and staring out at the most beautiful ocean.

“Breathe in.” He takes a slow, easy breath in and the releases it. “Breathe out.”

You do the same.

“Keep doing that and stay focused on me. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His face is so close you can see every hair of his beard, even the gray ones. Your eyes drop to his mouth as you continue your slow breathing. You lick your lips and glance up at him, shocked to see his stare locked on your mouth.

Your breath hitches and you feel a new wave of tingles shoot across your skin.

He straightens. “Sit down.”

His command is blunt and quick.

“In this dress?”

At your bemused expression he unbuttons his suit jacket before holding out his hand for you.

You look down at it and slowly place your own in his. With your free hand you reach for the silky material of your dress and part it at the slit, exposing the skin of your leg. His grip on your hand tightens.

Your eyes fly to his before you carefully slide down the wall. He copies your action and leans back, his knees bent and his suit pants straining against the heavy muscle of his thighs.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure this will get fixed soon,” he says assuredly.

“I hope we aren’t high up.”

Your words are slightly shaky and it looks as if he wants to reach out for you but thinks better of it before answering, “no, I think we’re just above the opening to the ground floor.”

You nod. “I guess you don’t have problems with confined spaces.”

“They don’t bother me,” he replies.

“I bet there isn’t much that does. Bother you, I mean?”

He turns his face to you and you study him as he answers, “not much.”

You feel a smile pulling at your mouth so you bite your bottom lip to stop it. His jaw tightens as the muscle ticks and he drops his eyes to your mouth again.

“What have you been reading lately?” he asks.

The question surprises you and now you can’t stop a full-on grin.

“Everything and anything,” you admit. “Mostly romance.”

“Is that your favorite…?”

Before you can answer his question his cell rings and he gives you a quick apologetic look before standing and answering it. After several nods and mumbled “okays,” he holds out his hand to help you stand.

“Thanks for calming me down,” you say before taking it. “I owe you a drink.”

His large and calloused fingers close around yours and he pulls you to your feet. At the same time the elevator jerks upward and you fall against his chest.

He catches you in his arms and you cling to him, startled, as you press yourself along his body.

His eyes drop to your mouth before he looks away.

“You don’t owe me anything doll,” he grumbles. “It’s my job.”

You’re about to respond that calming you down isn’t part on his bodyguard protocol but the elevator moves again and then the doors start to open. He releases you gently.

Two maintenance men stand outside with smiles.

Bucky gestures for you to step off first, and you do, smiling in thanks to the elevator mechanics. You turn to watch Bucky walk out and notice his eyes slide down your body before moving back up to your face.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yeah, fine now, thanks again.”

“I don’t know why he’s keeping me at arm’s length,” you huff sullenly. “We’re both adults and I’ve seen the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.”

You drop your head to the table and groan.

“Maybe he’s worried he’ll lose his job?” Nat suggests as she sips her coffee. “I mean he shouldn’t be distracted…”

“I’m not a distraction!” you scoff. “It’s not like I’m going to try to seduce him while we’re out in public where there are threats…although…the thrill of public sex is…”

“Babe,” Nat admonishes but she can’t hide her smile.

You give her a sad face. “I want to climb this man like a tree.”

“Then just do it. The next time you have him alone. Do it. Make sure there’s no doubt he knows what you want.”

You give her a raise of your brow and take a sip of your coffee as you contemplate her advice then your lips turn up into a mischievous smirk. “I might just do exactly that.”

“I really don’t feel like going to this party,” you admit as you sit in the passenger side of Bucky’s SUV. “I’d rather stay home.

Bucky’s gaze quickly flicks to you, his eyes running down your body before he focuses back on the road.

“I thought you liked these parties.”

“I do. But not all the time. Being home in pajamas is nice too.”

He nods in agreement.

“I don’t even like this dress that much. I’m not sure it suits me.”

You turn his way and note the white knuckled grip he has on the steering wheel.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“About?” he counters.

“My dress.”

“It’s fine,” he states.

Your mouth drops open with indignation but apparently he wasn’t done commenting.

“You always look perfect.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, looking away to hide your triumphant smile.

“Bucky,” you say quietly as you walk up next to him. “I’m ready to go. My feet hurt and I’m kind of tired. Take me home.”

He nods as he stares at you.

You lean up to kiss his cheek, breaking him out of his trance. “Thank you.”

He gives you his arm and you wind yours through it, leaning into him as you walk toward the elevator.

“Not another elevator,” you mutter.

“We can take the stairs if you prefer,” Bucky offers. “It’s only two flights.”

You look down at your shoes, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. The action draws his attention to your mouth and you catch him staring. Again.

“What are the chances we’ll get stuck again?” you ask warily.

“Very unlikely,” he tells you with a soft smile.

He helps you into the car, the ride is mostly silent other than your few short questions and his even shorter answers.

“You know I never got to thank you with that drink,” you say when you pull up to your house.

“For what?” he asks, looking genuinely confused.

“For helping me in the elevator last week. If you hadn’t been there I’m not sure how bad it would have gotten.”

“Doll,” he starts. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could have been there to help. It’s all in a days work.”

You hold his gaze, shifting in your seat at its intensity. Your movement draws his eyes to your legs and you see heat replace some of the intensity.

He clears his throat. “Let me walk you to the door.” Without another word he gets out and rounds the SUV.

You try to hide your disappointment and take his outstretched hand, sliding from the seat. You stumble on your heel and your palms land flat on his broad chest just before he reaches out to steady you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m ready to be out of these shoes.”

He chuckles and waits until you’re steady on your feet once again. His hand rests on your lower back as you walk toward the door.

You’re not even half way up the walkway when the sky opens up and the rains starts. You screech and try to run but Bucky grabs you, motioning down to your shoes.

“Easy doll. Don’t want you taking a tumble.”

You cling to him as you move toward the porch, already soaking through.

“You can’t go home like this,” you tell him when you reach the door.

He looks down at his clothes, wet and sticking to his skin. “I’ll be fine doll face.”

“Bucky,” you sigh. “At least come in and dry off.”

The muscle in his jaw flexes as his eyes flicker to your body, your wet dress molded to every last curve.  When he meets your eyes again you startle at his expression. His blue eyes are darker and filled with hunger, something he does little to hide now.

You turn away, still unsure if he’s going to follow but then you feel his heat at your back as he comes inside and shuts and locks the door.

“Hang on. I’ll get some towels.”

Before bringing him the towels, you quickly peel off your dress, dry off and change. When you arrive back downstairs he’s standing in your foyer and trying to take off his suit jacket.

You giggle at the sight and rush over you help him pull off the sleeves, the material sticky from the rain.

“Thanks doll,” he murmurs as he takes the towel.

He begins to dry off, patting his shirt and running the towel over his hair.

“You need to take his off,” you tell him sternly then reach up to the buttons of his shirt. “I can put it in the dryer for you.”

He whispers your name, his eyes on your fingers as they slowly undo each button. You separate the sides of his shirt to reveal his skin, glistening from the wetness of the material.

You press your fingertips to the upper right side of his chest, touching a circular scar.

“Is this a bullet wound?” you ask, your voice thick with emotion.

“A sniper,” he answers quietly. “And not a very good one.”

“What do you mean?” you whisper, looking up into his eyes. “He shot you!”

“I’m sure he was aiming for my head.”

He says it so casually, but the thought makes you feel sick.

You swallow hard, your fingers trembling as you move them lower, trailing them across a large gash that runs over his ribs.

“And this?”

“Bar fight. Some assholes like to pick fights with soldiers.”

“It looks bad.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. But I survived.”

Your fingers move over his cool skin, his abdominals flexing under your touch as you slide them lower, through the dark trail of hair that disappears into his pants.

“Doll?” he growls, gently grabbing your wrist.

You wrench your eyes away from his body and look up at him in surprise.

“I…” you start, “I’m sorry. It’s just…I want….”

“This isn’t a good idea,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Why not?” you counter, wanting to pout like a child.

You must be doing just that because he lifts his free hand and brushes his thumb across your lower lip before he traces the curve of your jaw.

“I can’t do my job properly if all I can think about is getting my mouth and hands on you. I need to keep you safe.”

His words are pained and you can see the war in his eyes.

“But there are no threats right now. It’s just you and I, safe at home.”

He’s still holding your wrist and you slip free of his grasp, taking his hand in yours and placing it just above the neckline of your tank top.

“Touch me Bucky. Please.”

You leave his hand there and lift yours to push his shirt from his shoulders. You have to tug the wet material off his arms but once he’s free of it you let your fingertips ghost along his skin, goosebumps forming in their wake.

“Doll,” he pleads, his eyes closing.

When you reach the button of his pants you toy with it before deftly popping it open. His arousal strains hard against the fabric and you suck in a breath.

He finally stirs, his eyes opening and focusing all their intensity on you and the path of his hand across your collarbone.

His calloused fingertips are feather light as they slide along your shoulder until they trace along the column of your throat. His large hand closes around the back of your neck and he tilts your head back, dragging you into his chest.

He dips his head, his lips hovering just above yours as he whispers, “if we do this…”

“Yes,” you breathe out, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

“You need to know something doll.”

His nose bumps yours as he brushes it over your skin, his lips moving to shell of your ear.

“What?” you gasp, your nails digging into his chest.

“You belong to me now.”

@book-dragon-13 @goldylions @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lookiamtrying @late-to-the-party-81 @laineyreads @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @flordeamatista @sstan-hoe @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814​ @buckysdollforlife​

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bodyguard!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #beefy!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #beefy!bucky #bodyguard au #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Ayo can we get a hot ass "keep my wife's name out your goddamn mouth" Kathy x John

Kathy does routine physical exams obviously and in the showers Price overhears some locker room talking about his wife, how they'd like those hands to go further, like how she bosses them around etc.

Cue him rounding the corner to give them a solid punch and "Don't you dare utter my wife's name again"

Up to you if she rewards him ☺️

yes you fucking can!!!!

That's My Wife!

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 1.5K~ cw: jealousy, protectiveness, arguments, violence, injuries (mentioned), misogyny, sexually-charged comments, "locker room talk", smutless smut.

The worst time of the year for the army medical staff at Tidworth is September. Oh, how the nurses and doctors hate the month of September during which, for two weeks straight, they see nothing but soldier after soldier for health checks and physical exams to confirm that they’re fit for service.

It’s, unfortunately, repetitive, mind-numbing and time-consuming. It’s also, unfortunately, a whole hands on deck situation. So, everyone who’s not actively doing something else, gets called in to help process the soldiers.

That’s how Kathleen ends up, every year, in the clinic, helping physicians assess the soldiers. Her jobs tend to be easy. More of the same that she tends to already do: measuring heights and weights, calculating their BMI and body fat percentages, using the stethoscope to listen to their heartbeat and breathing, manning the blood pressure gauge…

And, of course, the most interesting stuff. Conducting stress tests and having to strap all sorts of machines and sensors to the soldiers and monitor how they perform as they run on a treadmill, as well as doing physical checks on old injuries, scars…

In short, she spends a long time in front of shirtless men… and even longer touching their chests, arms, backs, and sometimes their legs, to check for injuries, which often ends with her crouching or kneeling at their feet.

And, of course, the stupid soldiers can’t keep their mouths shut. More often than not they make a few remarks about taking her out later, about coming to see her more often, of being lucky they get her for their checks…

It’s a nightmare. Kathleen hates it. In fact, she wishes she wasn’t tasked with that every year… But the choice is her or risking one of the pretty new interns having to do it, girls who haven’t yet developed the thick skin she has, and would likely giggle and get flustered at the lads behaviour… instead of calling them out on it or just downright ignoring them.

September, as it turns out, is also a nightmare for John. But he only figured that out today.

After his Bravo team finished training for the morning, John allowed them to hit the showers and he stayed behind to finish some work and talk with Soap.

As they enter the locker room, the rest of Bravo team is already in the communal showers, talking loudly amidst themselves and laughing, their voices echoing amidst the spraying of the showers over them.

John pops open his locker and starts shedding his workout kit, tossing it into his bag on the shelf. Soap isn’t far from him, a few lockers up, in the adjacent wall, his locker door having his name ‘MACTAVISH’ inside the clear plastic name tag holder, with a post-it naming him ‘F.N.G’ scotch taped below it.

John doesn’t need to pay much attention to know they’re talking about women, especially, the nurses from the nearby Tidworth base. All of them had gone through their check-ups in the last couple of days and, as is typical, they couldn’t keep their traps shut about the pretty women with soft hands doting all over them.

“Oh, mine bent over and pushed those tits of hers right up to my knee.” One of them said.

“Lucky bastard. I got a bloke.” Another replied.

Oh, how many times John had told them to be quiet and keep those sorts of talks to themselves when they were at the barracks, and not in public… But did those knobheads listen? No, never.

John grabbed his towel and 2-in-1 shampoo and bodywash and headed into the showers, taking up one of the vacant spots and drawing the curtain after hanging the curtain just outside his stall.

“I swear she was giving me the look… Definitely wants a piece of me.”

“No bird would want a piece of yer ugly mug.”

The lads continued talking as he let the water run over his body and began quickly lathering himself up with his 2-in-1, washing his hair and face aggressively before running his head under the falling shower water.

“I’m not devout, but this new batch’a nurses they got this year makes me a believer.”

“That’s right, brother.”

One-by-one they started vacating their stalls, still chatting loudly about their check-ups and the young women that treated them, lounging about the locker room and making each other laugh.

“But that arse of hers… I just know she’d bounce so well on my cock-”

“Oh that’s nothing. You didn’t see her last year before they changed the colour of the scrubs… That blue colour just… mmmmm…”

John finishes his shower not long after, wrapping his grey towel around his hip and tying it up to stay still. Then, he collects his 2-in-1 bottle from its perch atop the metal piping of the shower and starts making his way back.

That’s when he hears it:

“It’s no wonder the Captain’s peacockin’ himself around like that… I mean have you seen the size of her tits?”

John’s blood runs cold. They wouldn’t fucking dare. They wouldn’t talk about Kathleen. 

No. 

Not they. 

Him.

Sergeant Ellis Evans. 

One he’s always had problems reining in.

“Captain’s lucky is all I’ll say… Body like hers… Hell, even I’d forgive that bloody attitude of hers.”

The others laughed as Evans continued.

“I mean, I’m sure Kathleen’s mouth’s good for more than just talking… Gotta be good on her knees.. They call her ‘Brass’ for a reason, right? Bet she leaves ‘em with a nice polish and shine once she’s done.” 

That did it.

John rounded the corner into the locker room and, abruptly, the room fell into silence, breaths hitching and the temperature dropping into an uncomfortable ice.

But John didn’t stop walking at the doorway… In fact, he beelined right for Evans.

“Captain, I-” Evans immediately tried backtracking. “We were just joking, we were just-”

“Keep my wife’s name out your bloody mouth.” John grits at him through clenched teeth before he throws a right cross to Evans’ face.

-

It’s just past 7P.M. when Kathleen comes in through the front door. John has made dinner for them and little Charlotte is already asleep in her crib by the time she does.

She sets her bag down in the entrance, takes off her shoes, and pads over to the kitchen in search of John.

“Hi…” She greets him softly as she approaches the table, causing him to swivel on his chair to greet her, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

She presses a kiss to his mouth, which he returns. “Hi, Da’lin’.” He murmurs to her once they separate.

“Is she down?” She asks in a soft tone as she looks at him.

“Mhm… Full belly and empty diaper.” He tells her, which makes her smile softly, seeming relieved.

Kathleen feels exhausted, as usual, still not used to the work-life balance that comes from having a 4-month-old baby who doesn’t like to sleep + and a physically demanding job that runs on a 12-hour-shift schedule. 

John swivels back to his previous position, nursing a glass of whiskey with his left hand, the right one resting on the table, the knuckles covered by a blue gel ice pack.

“So that’s what happened...” Kathleen muses as she glances at his iced hand, before backing away to grab herself a plate of food from the cupboard.

“What is?” John murmurs as he glances at her, watching her serve herself of some frozen lasagna and salad.

“One of your lads ended up in my emergency room after some ‘roughhousing gone wrong in the locker room’... I was musing about what he did all afternoon.” She quips as she pads over to the table again again.

“Hm.” John mutters quietly, seemingly a mix of embarassed and annoyed at that fact.

“So what did he do?” She asks as she takes a seat on his lap, perched on his lap, as she pops a cherry tomato in her mouth.

“Talked about you.” John murmurs, wrapping his free arm around her waist. “Only I get to say debauching things about My Wife.” He grumbles as he looks up into her eyes.

Kathleen rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head, but she can’t help the smirk that takes over her rudy lips as he calls her ‘his wife’. “My, Mr. Price, defending my honour, huh?” She jokes as she pops a bit of lettuce in her mouth.

“Defending my honour… and yours by proxy. Just an unforeseen consequence of it.” He tells her, trying to act nonchalant about the fact he broke a man’s nose, eyesocket and three of his ribs, for demeaning his wife.

“Right… Of course… How stupid of me…” Kathleen teases as she leans toward him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, which makes his blue eyes close, a smile taking over his features. 

“As opposed to… what exactly? There isn’t much up there other than thoughts of my cock, da’lin’.” John remarks, causing her to roll her eyes, annoyed, and flick his head away from her by pushing his cheek, annoyed.

“I can very well just stop thinking about it all together… And I’m sure you wouldn’t want that when I was just about to reward you for defending me…” Kathleen teases as she pops another cherry tomato in her mouth, eyes locked on John and the way his pupils dilated, his cock already stirring awake in his joggers against her ass in her green scrubs.

#ikea writes 💚 #tw violence #tw misogyny #tw injury #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #call of duty #cod fandom #cod oc #oc: kathleen “brass” price #price x kathleen #john price x oc

[adelarsims]

OC QUESTIONNAIRE: IVO

thank you @simarcana for the tag :)

if any of you wanted to know ivo a little better, here's your chance.

hello, my dear. i believe we never met... i'm the spellweaver here at the Academia, and a substitute librarian for the time being, until they find someone else for the job. so... in which capacity i may be of help?

NAME: that would depend on who you see in front of you right now, me or the... oh. then just ivo is more than enough, there is no need to stand on ceremony ~

NICKNAME: with such a short name as mine, no one really called me anything else. if you don’t count common words of endearment, but i don't think that counts.

GENDER: ...hmm. that made me think. i’m used to think of myself as a man, but when i imagine being offered a different opinion, it doesn’t feel alien or make me uncomfortable either... there's always something yet to be discovered about ourselves, isn't it.

STAR SIGN: Pisces, but you might not find it very fitting anymore, now that i... oh, apologies, i got a little distracted for a moment.

HEIGHT: i never bothered measuring my own height exactly. probably a little over 180 barefoot, a little under 190 on heels... why would that be important? i assure you, 171-cm-on-heels worth of the Grand Sage in a bad mood can be much scarier. ah, you want me to get you this book from the upper shelf? in that case, my dear, how about i teach you a little beckoning spell if you have the time? it will come in handy when i’m not around to help. ~

ORIENTATION: there was a time when i preferred one gender over all others. now i prefer not to prefer either. that is just for the best for everyone. i’m truly sorry if you asked out of... personal interest, my dear.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: i’m afraid even i don't have the answer. i was here for as long as i can recall, but my childhood memories are rather... hazy. it was definitely warmer than here though, that much i remember.

FAVORITE FRUIT: peach, the juicier the better. even imagining it in my hand, its fuzzy skin is warm from the sun, juice streaming down my fingers and palm and staining my sleeve... ah, it almost makes me feel the taste in my mouth.

FAVORITE SEASON: summer. cold and damp weather can be very hard to endure, it takes a huge toll on my mind and body alike.

FAVORITE FLOWER: a whole field of forget-me-nots. and the apple tree blossoming in the warmest month of spring. it’s not something you could pluck for your amusement and put in a vase... you can only appreciate it and step away, carrying this moment of peace in your heart.

FAVORITE SCENT: oh, you know these thick, spicy scents that are an essential part of every tiny store that sells all kinds of fake occult knick-knacks impressionable young humans are so obsessed with? yeah, this scent. it’s just... so nostalgic for some reason.

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: i much prefer pomegranate wine, my dear, but alas, now that i’m not allowed to drink alcohol anymore... it would be linden and melissa herbal tea. aside from its mild taste and soothing qualities, another great thing about it is that it never becomes tart even if you forget about it for a long time... however, i would also never say no to a cup of hot chocolate in a pleasant company ~

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: more than nine, preferably. sadly, i’m rarely given that luxury. everyone always needs something here, and you can't really say no when it's the Grand Sage who's asking, now can you?

DOGS or CATS: neither, my... guest doesn’t like animals. or, rather, they do not like to be in my presence anymore. why are you looking at me like that? i thought professor Ember warned you about... i see. apologies for confusing you then. at any rate, if i have to choose, then cats. a cat sleeps for twenty hours a day and wouldn't give me any trouble, while having a dog demands too much physical activity for my taste.

DREAM TRIP: anywhere warm, my dear. (...where i really want to go is to go back in time and make a different decision, one i won’t be regretting for the rest of my days, but...) oh, i look sad? these cold stones just aren’t good for my morale. winter this year was awfully long.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: indefinite. nothing better for the night than making a warm cozy nest out of thick fluffy blankets. the flip side is that the warmer and cozier your blanket nest is, the more heartbreaking it is to leave it in the morning.

RANDOM FACT: there’s a belief among academia students that if you jump across the hall all the way to the statue of the First Sage on just one leg the day before the exam, and throw the note with your request, and the note stays in the statue’s hands, you will get an A+ without trying. no, no, not lazy, most of them prepare for exams anyway... it’s more of a tradition now. sometimes they write completely unrelated things. poems, love confessions to each other... someone even begged the statue to make professor Ember have a crush on them, poor soul. how do i know all that? whose responsibility it is to retrieve all these notes from the statue, you think?

--

tagging @kisica-plays, @pralinesims for OC you didn't answer this for, @agena87, @adoringsentiment, @kri-babe, @puppycheesecake and anyone who sees this and suddenly wants to hop on that train

#s:ivo #adelar’s storytime #adelar shows imaginary people #simblr #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 character

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 12

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    

Rating: Mature! 18+   Word Count: 17.1k   Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Anxiety, accidental hurt, panic attack (symptoms based on my own personal experiences), intrusive/racing thoughts, physical symptoms of anxiety, hurt/comfort. *Author chooses not to disclose all warnings so as not to spoil a plot point! It has been spoiled in the tags if you would rather know ahead of time!* Summary: An impromptu trip with the girls leads to a lightbulb moment that you wish had never come.  Notes: And you guys thought everything was smooth sailing after the proposal? Oh no...we can’t have that...

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

It was something of a joke the first time it got brought up. One night long after dinner service was over when you and Jack had Sophia and Tex over for drinks. You had sat out on the back porch refilling your glasses and chatting about weddings when Tex randomly asked a question.

“Ain’t there a tv show for that? For buyin’ wedding dresses?”

“You mean Say Yes to the Dress?” You had asked, laughing and leaning into Jack’s side. It had been almost the only thing you watched with your sister for months when she was engaged. “Yeah. Why, do you want to watch it?”

“Naw.” He has shaken his head pensively. “Y’all should be on it.” You had laughed. All four of you. Delighted by the silly idea of you and Sophia being on TV together. It had seemed like an idea that came and went like summer breeze. Two whole weeks ago and while you’d fantasized a little, you hadn’t brought it up again. It hasn’t been brought up at all before today.

******

When Sophia blows into a building, people know it. Her tendency to throw the doors open and yell seemingly fits right in with the Statesman group far better than she ever had with Kingsman. So when she bursts through the double door leading to your kitchen, no one on your staff even bats an eye. “Pack your bags, we are getting on the plane!” She squeals, nearly giddy with excitement.

The sound of banging doors hasn't bothered you in your entire life, considering you grew up with noisy siblings, so you are perfectly leaned over a soufflé plate to put the finishing touches on its presentation when Sophia appears in a tornado of activity. "Oh yeah?" You ask, raising an eyebrow that is meant for her but very carefully placing a quenelle of homemade ice cream on the plate to hand off to one of your waitstaff. "Where exactly are we going in the middle of my dinner service?"

“Kleinfield.” She’s smug as she smirks at you and reaches out to pluck a shaving of chocolate off the line to pop into her mouth. “They have a cancelation two days from now and you and I are taking it!”

The spoon you had in your hand promptly clatters to the counter as you stare at her, jaw nearly unhinging from your face in shock. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Would I joke about that?” She gives you a horrified look. “I have Tex’s credit card and need to burn a hole in it!”

“But he—I thought—it was just a joke?” A passing comment from your friend while drinking under the stars. Nothing more. But the look on her face is fully aghast and you shut your mouth for long enough to realize that she’s talking about your day off. “Two days?” You ask, knowing that no, she would never joke about this. As boisterous and excitable and unconventional as Sophia is, she would probably be perfect for Kleinfeld.

“You don’t want to do it?” She asks, knowing that some people talk about doing things and never get the nerve when presented with the opportunity. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

"No, I just...I'm honestly shocked they had an appointment available." The disappointment in Sophia's face is obvious, and you grab a dish towel to wipe your hands on before throwing your arms around her. "Maybe we'll get to be in a background shot of an episode if we linger by a camera long enough."

“Either way, we are going to drink champagne and try on wedding dresses!” The hug rejuvenates her and she’s immediately crushing you in a return embrace. “I want an emerald green Zuhair Murad. Unless I find something I love more.”

"Oh god, you even know what designer you want." If Sophia has faults, preparedness is not one of them. She's always fully informed and ready to go at a moment's notice. "I suppose I should actually look at some designs before we go, shouldn't I?"

“No.” Sophia decides, grinning at you. “Choose whatever dress speaks to you.” She holds up a credit card, sleek and shiny. “I’ve got Whiskey’s card and there’s not a limit.”

"You already went and got his card?" That has you doubled over laughing, so taken aback by her approach and yet you have no idea why. This is who Sophia is. And it's why you love her. The woman is unapologetic about her enthusiasm. "You know I have to work tomorrow, right? And the appointment isn't for two days." Regardless though, it earns her another hug. It might be good to go back to New York for a happy reason...try to form new memories there that have nothing to do with what happened last time...

She pouts at you, clearly wanting to go to New York with her friend now. “Fine but we are spending the entire next three days.” She warns you with a pointed finger. “I need to see the sights.”

"I have a restaurant to run, you know." You just shake your head at her with both hands on her shoulders, barely smothering another laugh and sighing happily. "I'll make it work. Pick out the places you want to see the most and I'll see if my brother is going to be around or if we can crash an event at his art gallery. How does that sound?"

“Perfect! Oh! I asked Diana about coming but she’s insisting she will stay behind and make sure that the restaurant runs smoothly while you are gone.”

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" She always does. It's not as if it's a surprise. "Alright." One more hug and you pull back, shooting her a knowing grin. "Are you staying for supper or should I pack up a to-go order for you to take home to your man?"

“Ohhhhhh dinner.” She moans. “Not having the hour long ‘what do you want for dinner?’ conversation.” She laughs. “Please. Whatever you want to pack up, I’ll buy.”

"The chicken pot pie soup is even better today than usual." And it's one that they haven't tried yet, so you immediately go to pour two to-go containers. "And the biscuits are fresh." You add two of the apple hand pies and a small container of whiskey caramel for good measure, wanting to make sure that they're well fed tonight. "I'll put it on Tex's tab."

“That sounds amazing.” She groans, rolling her eyes. “But everything you make is amazing. I’m just never cooking again.”

"Glad to be of service." The compliment is like a giant fuzzy blanket you can wrap yourself up in, and you hand her the full bag of food with your restaurant's logo on the side. "Now go home and make a list of everything you want to see while we're in New York."

“Don’t tell me that.” Sophia grins and leans in to steal another hug. “Or I’ll plan it like a mission.”

"I can think of worse things." Throwing her a grin, you shoo her toward the door with a laugh. "I'm gonna come by your office before my shift tomorrow and I want to hear at least three ideas, otherwise I'm dragging you to every museum I can possibly think of. Deal?"

“Deal.” Sophia turns back towards you with a grin. “This is going to be great. We are going to have so much fun and the added bonus is that we will drive the boys crazy wondering what we are getting into together.”

"You're the only person in the world who can give Tex a run for his money in the troublemaker department." With one last squeezing hug, you really do have to get back to work. "Go on, Soph. I'll see you tomorrow."

“Bye!” She shouts as she blows out of the restaurant just as eagerly as she came in. You’ve given her more food she hasn’t tried and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let it get cold.

******

Going home to Jack that night is basically falling into a lump on the couch beside him as soon as you walk in the door, but at least you're the happy kind of exhausted. "Good day at work?" You ask, sighing a little as you tuck into his side and steal a sip from his glass on the coffee table.

Jack rolls his eyes slightly. “Alright, but Champ has decided that I need to be tested, make sure I’m up for going back to the field after months away.”

"What kind of test?" It's a fair thing for his boss to insist on, but you can hear the annoyance in Jack's voice.

“Every-damn-thing.” Jack grunts, shaking his head. “Man seems to think I’m getting old. Got me trainin’ with the recruits.”

“I’m sorry I kept you out so long.” You know it’s at least partially because of the trouble you had with each other in the beginning, and you turn your chin to look up at him on the couch. “He’s just doing his job, baby. A boss had to be a boss, even to his best friend.”

“It’s just aggravating.” Jack admits. “The younger group doesn’t mind. But they are in awe.”

“Bask in their admiration then, my love.” That makes you grin, knowing that Jack loves to show off when the opportunity arises. “Have someone other than your fiancée coo over how impressive you are.”

He grumbles under his breath, but it seems to do the trick. Tomorrow’s training not seeming quite so bleak as it has been looking. “Sophia find you?”

“She came by during dinner service.” He seems mollified, and you pick up his hand to kiss his palm before grinning guiltily. “I thought we might talk a little about wedding stuff before she and I leave tomorrow night?”

“What do you want to talk about, sugar?” He had gladly handed over his card to Sophia and told her to make sure you bought whatever you wanted.

"Well...we haven't really planned anything yet." Other than convincing your mother that no, you really can't fit into her wedding dress without major alterations and knowing that he had mentioned a family veil in a conversation ages ago, you've just been too busy with the restaurant to bask in the glow of being engaged. "We haven't even talked about where to have it yet."

“Honestly?” Jack chuckles. “I had anticipated you wantin’ to have the wedding here.”

"Here as in the house, or here as in the Statesman campus?" Either one is fine with you, but you want Jack to be excited for the wedding, too. Just because this will be his second doesn't mean it should be less meaningful.

“I meant here at Statesman.” He corrects. “Or up with your family.” He offers. “It doesn’t matter to me, if I’m honest. As long as you are there and we are happy.” He winks and leans in to press his lips to yours.

"Here at Statesman, then." It's come to mean a hell of a lot to you as a place to live and work anyway, there's no reason not to celebrate it. And your lips twist into a grin that you can't deny at the thought of having the wedding back in New Hampshire. "We threw my sister's wedding at my parents' house. It was so much fucking work, I think they'd be glad to just show up to this one instead of throwing the whole thing."

Jack nods in agreement. “That’ll be a good thing. The whole crew will want to be there.” He warns you with a grin. “It’ll be a big party.”

"A big party, huh? Sounds like fun." It's just teasing, you know it will be. Everyone at Statesman loves Jack, and your extended family will make plenty of fuss. "Do you..." You bite your lip and sit up to actually look him in the eye. "Do you want to do it before or after we go to Montana? I don't mind either way, but I know it's going to be an emotional trip and I don't want you to feel awkward about anything."

“Sugar…” Jack reaches for your hand and he picks it up to kiss the back of it. “I want you to plan this wedding for whenever you want. If we were to do it my way, it would be at the courthouse next week.”

"I mean...we could do that, but you're the one who's gonna tell Sophia that the trip to Kleinfeld is off." You have to bite your lip again, but this time it's to keep from bursting out laughing at the stricken look of worry on his face. Jack clearly does not want to be the one to deliver that news. "I don't mind how long we're engaged, love. I just want us to both be happy. So...since you're being so terribly practical...how about I talk to Diana about what would be the best time once I find my dream dress and find out how long it will take to get? Since I hear those things can take ages to come in."

“That will work for me.” Jack murmurs indulgently. “So you’re plannin’ the weddin’ and I’m plannin’ the honeymoon?” He asks with a teasing grin. He knows you will want his input and he won’t be the type of man to let you take on everything yourself.

“If that’s what you want.” Leaning in to kiss him has you grinning. “I imagine you’ll be choosing someplace where I wear as little as possible?”

“It’s like you know me.” Jack jokes, actually thinking about making one of your dream trips possible on your honeymoon. While time in bed is a must, he also knows you want to see the world.

“I’m happy as long as you’re there.” You promise him. “Just let me know when you pick so I can pack accordingly.”

“Would you prefer Paris or Thailand?” He asks with a smirk. “Was thinking we could do a week in Bangkok and then set ourselves up on an island resort. Or we could do the classics.”

Eyeing him like you think he might be teasing you, you decide to just roll with it and see what he says. "Depends on when the wedding is. If it's winter? Thailand, no contest. But summer? That's Paris."

“Then I guess we better figure out if you want a winter or summer weddin’ then, don’t we?” He chuckles. “Somethin’ to be said for both times of year here.”

"Guess I better talk to Diana, then. And figure out a dress." Leaning in, you steal a small kiss and relax against him again. "You...you had mentioned a veil...a while ago. And I wondered if it might be something that I could...take to New York with me? Or at least see it beforehand? I would hate to pick out a dress that it doesn't look good with when you said it was important to you."

Jack squeezes your hand and gets up with a grunt. “Come on, sugar. The veil is in the safe. Let’s see how it looks on you.”

You set the security system and Jack shuts off the lights on your way upstairs, ready to settle in for the night. The safe is in your bedroom anyway, so there won't be any reason to go back downstairs. "I assume you'd prefer I pick something white?" There's teasing on the tip of your tongue as you climb the stairs together. "I mean...who knows what I could find while Sophia is looking for her green dress."

“Sugar, I want you to pick out whatever catches your eye and makes you feel like a Princess.” He murmurs as he leads you towards the bedroom. “As long as you don’t mind there being a cowboy hat on me and all my groomsmen, we’re good.” He teases.

"I'd be disappointed if you went without." The feeling of his large hand around yours is soothing and grounding so you turn down the hall at the top of the stairs. It's automatic now, having slept in that bed with him so many times even before you were officially moved in. "Have you decided who you're going to ask?"

“Tex is gonna be my best man– if you’re good with it.” He turns and watches you carefully, wanting to make sure that you don’t hide your feelings towards it. “I was kind of hopin’ you might consider Champ officiating?”

"What if we did...couples? Kind of?" The thought is worth chewing over, and you sit down on the bed while he opens the safe. "Champ to officiate and I'll ask Diana to be our planner? Tex and Sophia as best man and maid of honor. Astrid and my brother for your other groomsmen and Gabi and my sister for my other bridesmaids?" It's like a perfect split of your friends, and you had always said that you wanted your siblings to be in your wedding party if you ever found your soulmate. After all – you were in theirs. "Does that sound okay?"

“Anyone else you want to invite?” He asks, punching in the code for the safe and swings it open. He knows exactly where the veil is, packed away in a box for protection and safekeeping. He pulls it out and turns back around to face you. “Friends from before?”

"Maybe a few. But I brought a couple of them in for the restaurant, to be honest. My best friend from culinary school is my front-of-house manager, and my closest friend from the pastry circuit back home is my pastry sous. So...aside from my extended family, most people really are already here." It's something that actually makes you more comfortable than you had realized, and bringing in your friends to help you run your dream restaurant only made it all the better.

Jack nods. “Whoever you want. We can make sure that everyone comes, even if we have to set up huge reception tents outside.”

"Is that it?" The box in his hands is cradled with care, and you know it can't be anything else. There isn't much in the safe besides weaponry and a few valuables, and that box is the only thing you haven't seen yet.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.” Jack offers before he hands you the box. Despite what he had said about this being a family tradition, he wasn’t going to insist on it if you hated it.

"Unless it's a literal tablecloth, I can't imagine disliking it." And even if it were, you would still wear it if it was important to him. He looks nervous as you lift the lid, but the second you reveal the lace to the light you gasp in awe. It's simple and stunning - classic in the way the scalloped lace at the edges is full of beautifully woven flowers that ease into the body of the veil to give way to simplicity. When you lift it out you can see that it has an attached clip, encrusted with beautiful, crystal-clear rhinestones. "Jack..." You look up at him on the verge of another gasp. "It's gorgeous."

“You like it?” He asks, shuffling slightly and wondering if you are just saying that. He had family pictures going back generations with this veil and if you decided you didn’t want it, he would be disappointed but understand.

"I love it." You're practically in tears over it, and immediately stand up from the bed to go in front of the mirror and get an idea of what it would look like in your hair. The gold and rhinestone clip and floral lace are giving you ideas that you never would have imagined for yourself. "I'm going to pick something simple for a dress." Whether you're telling yourself or him is up for debate. "So this can be the center piece." Without having any family at all to invite, it's the perfect way to still have them with him at the wedding.

“It looks gorgeous on you, sugar.” Jack swallows, not wanting to compare you to his late wife, but you both look like angels wearing the family veil. It’s been a long time since he’s even looked at it. “Probably needs to be cleaned. But I’ve kept it as safe as I could.”

"I'll ask Diana. Something tells me that she will know a place that can handle something this delicate." It's silly, but you really don't want to take it off so quickly. But he's right, it's an heirloom and an antique, and should be handled with care. "I'm honoured that you want me to wear it, honey. It's beautiful, and a beautiful memory to have."

“I will admit.” He reaches out and touches the lace. “I was hopin’ you’d want to wear it.”

"I absolutely do." Leaning over a little, you leave a kiss brushed on his cheek and rub his arm gently. "I'm going to take some pictures of it, if that's okay with you? I don't want to risk something happening to it on the trip. It's more delicate that I had imagined."

“No, you take it with you.” Jack insists. “It’s a lot tougher than it appears. It’s been through more than most family heirlooms.”

“I’ll pack it up in something safe and padded,” you promise, already trying to think of your laptop case will fit the bill. Either way, you carefully take the clip out of your hair and wrap your arms around him as soon as the veil is back in its box. “I’m glad we have something of your family’s for the wedding.” You wish you could do more than that - find some way to have them there - but some things are beyond even your determined reach.

“She woulda liked you.” Jack admits in a quiet voice. “Woulda boxed my damn ears for how I treated you, but if there was some way for you two to be in the same time, she woulda joked about the two of you runnin’ me ragged.”

"If there was some way for us to be in the same time, I know she and I would have been friends." Though you don't really know how you know it, all of the things you've ever learned about Abigail Daniels all add up to the kind of person you would have loved to be friends with. "She'd give me shit about the whole thing with Tex, and she'd love Sophia to death just like I do. And..." You sit down on the bed with him again and pick Jack's hand up in both of yours. "And I hope that sometimes I remind you of her. Even a little bit. And that sometimes you're just like that cook from Boston."

“That might be what scared me the fucking most.” Jack whispers quietly. “You do remind me of her. That same spirit. Caring nature.” He lifts your joined hands and puts your arms around his shoulders. “But I love you. For you.”

"I love you, too, Jack Daniels." It always makes you smile, the way the sentence rolls off your tongue so naturally and makes him blush, pushing that lone dimple up into the meat of his cheek. "But I hope you know that giving Sophia your credit card means she is gonna make sure I come home with the most expensive wedding dress New York City has to offer."

“It’s why I gave it to her.” He pouts at you playfully. “You either wouldn’t have accepted it or resolved to spend as little as possible on it.” He grumbles, unsure of why you disbelieve the fact that he can afford to spoil you. “She’s under orders to have them remove the price tags from the gowns before you try them on.”

"Tex is convinced they're going to put us on camera." Later in the night he had texted you to thank you for dinner and excitedly gushed about how he was dead certain that if two ravishing ladies such as yourself walked up into that salon with fancy fiancés and unlimited budgets, they would be fools not to put you on the show. "I don't think it works like that, but I didn't want to dash his dreams."

“Hardheaded fool.” Jack shakes his head and sighs. “Sophia can’t be on the show.” He explains softly. “At least not featured. She’s an active agent.”

"She's the most special thing to him in the world and he likes to dream about it. It's sweet." His exasperation is endearing - brotherly, really - and you grin. "He's sappy and in looooove."

“Yeah. He is a sap.” Never one to turn down a chance to insult Tex good-naturedly, he chuckles. “He’s gonna cry when he gets the bill for her dress.”

"She's going to look spectacular." You know that without hesitation. Even if she weren't a statuesque beauty to begin with, her assuredness and vivacity would make her a knock-out no matter what. "It'll be the most unconventional wedding dress you've ever seen."

“The boy said she was wantin’ a green weddin’ dress.” He hums, looking at you curiously. “Are you thinkin’ something along the same lines or traditional?”

"I think the wildest I'll get is a flower pattern or something in the fabric. No colors or anything over the top for me." Somehow you have a feeling that Jack wouldn't say a word if you wanted to be untraditional, but he's hoping for white in his heart. And honestly? You never imagined anything but white on your own anyway. Maybe ivory - but that is hardly a stretch of the imagination. "My mom and my sister had these very elaborate dresses with lace and rhinestones and bows and stuff and I just...I don't know. I think I want to do something simple. And definitely something white."

“Simple is good.” Jack slides his hands around your waist and pulls you closer. “Simple lets the gorgeous bride shine. Instead of just looking at the dress, they will be lookin’ at you, sugar. Envious and wonderin’ how the fuck I got so lucky.”

Your immediate impulse is to protest that you’re the lucky one in this situation, but you know you’ll just end up going back and forth flattering each other. “We’re both lucky,” you insist, leaning forward to press your lips to his.

He can concede that, smirking slightly against your lips. Tilting his head and sliding his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss and groans when you immediately respond. The way Jack kisses you will never cease to thrill you. Reverent and wanting but always playful. It makes you smile into the kiss and ring your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. “I’m gonna miss you while I'm in the city.”

He frowns slightly and pulls you closer. “I’m going to miss you too, sugar.” He admits. He’s worried. Worried that you might not react to being in the city where you were tortured, but he’s not going to bring it up. If you aren’t thinking about it, he doesn’t want to put it in your mind. “But you will have a lot of fun with Sophia. You two are gettin’ along good.”

“She’s great.” You tilt your chin back to kiss the tip of his nose and smile, trying to wipe the frown off of his face. “And I know I’ll be safe with her.” It’s not as if you hadn’t thought about where you’re going. But you can’t exactly shun the city where your own brother lives for the rest of your life.

“You will be.” Jack looks down into your eyes seriously. “Please wear the bracelet and your earrings?” He begs softly.

“Cross my heart.” You nod earnestly, pressing another kiss to his lips. “And if I never go to Brooklyn again it’ll be too soon.”

He hums, tightening his grip on you slightly. “I would offer to come but I think there’s some rule about seeing the dress.”

"There's a very big rule about it, and I want you to be surprised." Although you can't deny that you always feel safer with him around, you know that Sophia will be able to take care of anything that comes up. If anything does at all, which it shouldn't now that Jack had taken care of the Rollins boys. "Unless...maybe Astrid could come with us? If she wanted to, and Gabi was okay with it? Then I'd have two of the baddest ass women I know looking out for me and you might feel a little calmer?"

“You take whoever you need to, sugar.” It’s sweet that you want to calm him down but he will always feel a little anxious when you aren’t in his sight. He’s already come to terms with that fact.

"It'll all be fine." You assure him, solidly reminding yourself of it as well. "We'll both be a little unsettled but I'll be fine with Sophia. And I'll wear my bracelet and my earrings so you can watch my little tracker dot circle around the dress shop a bunch of times and grin about it."

“I think you’ll find your dress in under an hour.” Jack predicts.

"You want to be more specific?" The idea of a little bet is intriguing to you and you pull apart from him to start undressing for bed. "Make a wager, maybe?"

“You know what you like and what you don’t.” Jack explains. “Even if you don’t have any particular style in mind before you go in, I wager an extra week on our honeymoon that you find your dress within an hour.”

"So if you're right, we add an extra week to the honeymoon." Tossing your socks in the laundry basket, the t-shirt you were wearing joins it next. "If it takes longer than that, which I think it will because I have no clue what I'm looking for other than 'not what my mother or sister wore', then..." You think through it, trying to think if there's anything you've wanted that he has ever said no to. Which of course, there isn't, so you go for something silly instead. "Then you and I are going to take an extremely silly engagement trip somewhere. Disney levels of silly."

Jack chuckles, knowing that it would seem extremely silly, but it would be worth it. “You’re on, sugar.” He hums happily, watching as you strip down and he starts to unbuckle his belt. “It’ll be great having you on the honeymoon for an extra week, but—” He points at you playfully and wags his finger. “You can only call to check in on your restaurant once a day.”

"Twice." You immediately pop up, turning to throw him a pout in protest. After all, pouting topless has never steered you wrong before - even if you're a little too anxious tonight to be thinking about sex. For the last several days, actually. "Once at the beginning of business and once toward the end of the night."

“One call, one text.” Jack haggles with you, smirking slightly although his eyes are squarely centering on your tits at the moment. Not sure if he’s smirking at the conversation or at the sight of your beautiful breasts.

"One call and one text. I can deal with that." You'll conspire with your sous chef later to communicate far more than that, but that's for later. "See something you like, cowboy?" It does make you smile, even though you're currently digging into the dresser to pull out an oversized t-shirt to sleep in.

“You can’t expect to pull out your tits and not have me stare at them.” He huffs dramatically, although he’s noting that you are already putting clothes back on, the universal signal for ‘not tonight’. To be fair, there has been a lot of sex and he doesn’t care if you want to have a rest. Instead of stripping down completely, he leaves his boxers on as he pulls back the covers.

"You're always allowed to stare at them, babe. Just like I'm always allowed to stare at your ass." Grateful that he doesn't seem to be fiercely ready for sex tonight, you crawl into bed beside him and snuggle up tight.

Curling his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, Jack presses his lips to your forehead. You seem perfectly content to let tonight be a snuggly affair and he’s perfectly okay when that, sighing softly at your warmth against his chest. The beating of your heart that he can just barely hear. “It’s a good thing you like it, cause it’s barely there. Better narrow your eyes to see it.”

“I’m gonna have to get a very powerful glasses prescription from Astrid,” you joke, giggling when you look up at him in bed and he frowns dramatically in response.

Jack reaches between you and pinches your nipple. “Brat.”

“Ow.” You’re laughing until you’re not, confused as to why the normally playful gesture hurts tonight. Jack must have accidentally pinched harder than usual. “Now I’m a pouty brat.”

“Shit, sugar.” He goes to rub your breasts to apologize but you twist away. Instead he strokes your back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He promises, feeling guilty for being too rough. He must have pinched harder than normal.

“S’ok.” You shrug, but also shrug out of his touch, slipping down beside him with a soft smile. “Kisses make things better, ya know.”

“I’ll give you as many kisses as you want.” He keeps his hands away from your chest, settling them on your sides as you lean in so he can kiss you.

“Sounds perfect to me.” Determined not to let your nerves about going to New York seep in, you just hope you get a good night’s sleep tonight. You’ve been restless lately – who knows why.

“Let’s get some sleep, sugar.” Jack suggests, unwinding one arm from around you so he can turn off the light. “You’ve got some big weddin’ decisions to be makin’.”

******

When you actually depart for New York it's early in the morning two days later, and you and Sophia have Gabi along with you for the trip. The idea of inviting Astrid was well-meaning for Jack's comfort, but since both of you had actually planned on asking Gabi to be your bridesmaid individually you had decided to make this trip a sort of event. The three of you sit over breakfast on the Statesman jet, talking over what Sophia wants to see and all the little things that you think you might look for in a dress or for your weddings. It's a calm flight, all things considered, but you still find yourself picking at your breakfast and wishing your upset stomach would subside.

“Are you good?” Gabi reaches out and touches your elbow. “I know the food isn’t as good as yours, but it’s not worth shredding the bagel.” She teases with a grin.

"I felt kind of off yesterday, too." You admit, looking between your friends with a sheepish expression. "I think I'm nervous."

“It’s okay to be nervous.” She promises. “I kept choking on my own spit the day Astrid and I got married. Broke out in hives.”

"Oh god..." As comforting as it is to know that even the happiest couples you know had plenty of wedding nerves, that just makes you groan in the moment. "Don't tell me that. Tell me everything's going to work out and the stuff that goes wrong will be little and unimportant and we'll laugh about it later."

“Everything turned out amazing.” She assures you with a smile that can only be from a person still completely besotted with their soulmate. “One of the best days of my life. And it will be yours as well.”

"Gabi's official role as bridesmaid for both of us is to be the calm one." Sophia jokes, sitting back at the table in the belly of the jet with her hands wrapped around her iced coffee. "Which reminds me," she grins, eyes flashing mischief at you before focusing on Gabi. "Hen parties. What did you and Ginger do?"

Gabi snorts and shakes her head. “Uhhhh….” Her grin is devilish and she shrugs. “We went to a male strip club.” She admits with a cackle.

"Seriously?" You almost do a spit take of your herbal tea, which would not help your stomach in the least.

“What?” She gives a shrug of her shoulders as if it was nothing surprising. “Just because we are desperately in love doesn’t mean we don’t like to look at dick.” She huffs playfully, dropping her voice on ‘dick’.

"So you like to look but don't want to touch men?" Human sexuality is such a fucking spectrum that you typically don't ask questions, but now you're curious. Plus, it's probably the first time you've ever seen Gabi blush. Ever.

“Ummm….” She shrugs again and gestures uselessly with her hands. “All of our kids were, uh, conceived naturally. So sometimes we do like to touch.”

"So..." This is breakthrough information that has you sitting up in your chair, practically giggling in delight. "Jack just...assumed you're a lesbian and no one ever corrected him? Because he definitely thinks you're a lesbian."

“To be fair, we are in a committed relationship and don’t really talk about anybody before finding each other.” Gabi defends lightly. “And we were very discreet with the fathers of our kids.” She giggles. “Plus, if Jack knew, he might have volunteered to get one of us pregnant and while I would have gone for it….Astrid would have worried it would affect their work relationship.”

"He absolutely would have volunteered." And rather than making you feel awkward in any way, you can absolutely laugh about it. "Well it seems I learned something about my friends today!”

Gabi shrugs and smirks. “So don’t feel bad about wanting a male dancer for my sake!” She jokes. “I’ll be upfront since it’s been a while.”

“Oh!” Shrinking back in your seat a little, you shake your head and laugh nervously. “I wasn’t planning on having a bachelorette party. No dancers or strippers or whatever for me.”

“What?” Gabi immediately shakes her head. “You are having a bachelorette party. Even if it’s just a spa thing with the girls.”

“No one’s saying we’re dragging you to Vegas for a Magic Mike show and endless rounds of cocktails by the pool.” Sophia waggles her eyebrows. “Although that does sound grand.”

“That’s what we’ll do for you, then.” That kind of party is much more styled to Sophia’s outgoing personality, and you’re definitely more up to planning something like that than being the focus of it. “Mine will be the low key version of things.”

Gabi nods. “Noted. Sophia wants naked men, you want pedicures.” She teases. “But you will stuff some dollar bills in a g-string if given the opportunity?”

“I promise to stuff at least two bills into two separate g-strings.” You snort, shaking your head at the very silly bargain.

“At least.” Gabi agrees with a grin. “Who knows, maybe Astrid and I will have the motivation to start looking for another donor for baby number three.”

“Your third baby donor and my brother’s second husband,” you half-joke, knowing full well it’s only half. If your brother knew you were going to a strip club he’d be there in a heartbeat. Sophia cackles at that, gleefully enjoying the image it brings to mind, and you snort a laugh that brings the whole table into a fit of giggles.

“So.” Gabi leans in and grins. “A little birdy told me that you and Jack have a little wager.” She hums. “I am to act as timekeeper.”

“Oh god.” Despite your embarrassed laughter, you do sit up and reach for your tea. “If I find a dress in under an hour, he’s adding an extra week to our honeymoon. If it takes over an hour, I get to be treated to a silly little engagement trip. He’s convinced I’m going to find one in no time.”

“So you win either way.” Sophia looks impressed, sore that she hadn’t come up with something like that with Tex. “Bravo.”

You shrug, knowing the compromise is really just a win for both of you, and it’s really just about when to have an extra week of vacation. “I know it’s going to take me forever, so you two will have to help me come up with someplace extraordinarily silly for him to take me.”

“Knotts Berry Farm.” Sophia immediately pipes up. “Or Disney World. And make him wear the ears!”

“If I bring that man to Disney World, I’m dressing him up like Woody and absolutely no one can stop me.” It would certainly qualify as silly, and your beloved cowboy soulmate would undoubtedly have you dressed up in something equally silly the next day as revenge. “And I would take so many videos.”

“You would have to!” Gabi laughs at the mental image and shakes her head. “There’s a snake in my boot!” Sophia cries out in an exaggerated imitation of Jack’s voice.

“Excuse me, ladies.” The flight attendant that welcomed you all on board and set out your breakfast comes over with a smile, having clearly recognized the impression Sophia was doing. “We’ll be landing shortly. If you wouldn’t mind buckling in, I’ll just clear this away. You’ll be on the ground in twenty minutes or less.”

Sophia looks giddy as the plane starts to descend, looking out the windows although the clouds still cover up the view. “Thank you for coming.” She says suddenly. “I am excited for this.”

“You made this happen.” Reaching over to hold her hand tightly, the way she grips yours back eagerly is full of excitement and anticipation. “We’re glad to be here for the ride. And I am also very excited about this appointment.”

“I am just here for the free champagne.” Gabi teases, honored that both women would include her in such a big event. Even better, she gets a mini vacation that is sure to rejuvenate her.

******

The ride from the airport to Kleinfeld is animated, with all three of you mashed into the backseat of the Statesman SUV that came to pick you up at the private airstrip. Apparently, having three agency soulmates fly into the city for a few days landed you some privileges, especially since Sophia is an active agent - and the best perk might actually be having a driver at your disposal.

“So Sophia already has an idea of what she wants. What are you thinking?” Gabi asks. “I know you have Jack’s family’s veil with you.”

“Yes, I do. And it’s non negotiable. If the dress doesn’t compliment the veil, it’s not the one.” The tote bag you’re carrying today holds any number of things, but your laptop case containing that veil is the most precious by far. “I just want something simple. As vague as that is.”

“Simple can always be wonderful.” The only married woman in the group insists. “Especially when on such a gorgeous woman.”

“Flatterer.” A sly grin in Gabi’s direction makes both of you laugh, and you reach for the front door of the bridal salon with a sharp intake of nervous breath. “Okay, ladies. Here we go!”

“Reservation is under my name.” Sophia turns towards you two before a woman in a tailored pantsuit walks up to the group. “Hello.” She watches as the woman seems surprised by the accent and smiles. “We have a reservation. Andrews.”

"Of course. Welcome!" The perfectly coiffed platinum blonde smiles broadly and waves you all over to the desk. "My name is Ellie, and I'm actually your consultant today so this was perfect timing to run into each other." She laughs, but instead of being put-on or polite, she sounds genuinely amused as she glances down at the computer behind the counter and back up again. "Now this is a double appointment, right? You, Sophia...and...?"

"And me." You put out your hand out to her and find yourself smiling in mirror to the woman – Ellie is one of the consultants frequently featured on the show but you would be hard pressed to actually say anything. She probably gets enough of that every single day from other brides.

“I already know what I am looking for.” Sophia announces, motioning towards you. “She is the one who isn’t quite sure what she is looking for. Although she has brought a family heirloom veil from the groom’s family that she wants to use.”

"Oh wow." Ellie looks suitably impressed and waves the three of you toward the belly of the salon. "Well let's go and get you ladies set up, and we can talk a little about what we're looking for and what our budgets look like." She moves through the space with ease and the three of you follow easily until you're shown to a soft, blue loveseat in one corner of the salon. "Since we have two brides trying things on I have a seat here for our third friend, and two pedestals for trying things on. But for now," she grins and pulls up an extra chair. "Let's have a little chat. Fiancés, weddings, budgets, all that good stuff."

“Budget is no concern.” Sophia hoots, pulling out Jack’s card. “Her fiancé is the CEO of Statesman distillery.”

"And hers," you side eye Sophia with nothing but love. "Is Head of Security." Tequila's return Stateside and good work at Kingsman had come with a step up in his civilian job title, much to his delight. It corresponded directly with his accolades as a senior agent. "They're best friends, and close with our friend Gabi's wife. Who is also a department head at Statesman. We're a big work family. But, um...yeah. Our fiancés are footing the bill, and they said no budget."

"My goodness." It's pretty clear Ellie wants to swear but she's too professional and she nods along with what you're saying. "So let's talk weddings, then? And fiancés? Sophia, you said you already know what you're looking for so why don't you tell me a little about everything?"

“I am not traditional.” She flashes a sardonic smile. “Trying to throw off my Britishness.” She jokes, you and Gabi laughing. “My fiancé is a huge cowboy and his engagement ring for me is a good indicator of our whimsy. I have decided I would like an emerald green wedding dress and my bridesmaids will wear white tea length gowns. Emerald green accents.”

"Okay!" Ellie nods, obviously a little thrown off by that idea but ultimately undeterred. "We don't have a lot in the salon in green, but what I can do is pull dresses that I know the designers are willing to do in colours and show you a fabric sample of what that colour would look like. How does that sound to you?" If it isn't satisfying to this bride Ellie will have to pull out her Hail Mary very early in this appointment.

“I was hoping for a Zuhair Murad gown?” Sophia suggests. “If that’s possible?”

"It's definitely possible." The excitable blonde nods her head and looks around the group of the three of you conspiratorially. "He's actually here today. We have a trunk show of his gowns going on this week and he's in store to meet with brides and consult on some things. I definitely think it would be worth bringing him into this appointment so that you can get that emerald color you want. His coloured gowns are stunning."

“Are you serious?” Sophia looks positively star struck and she can’t nod quick enough. For her, the designer is the entire reason she had wanted to come here.

"In that case." Ellie's eyes flash and she turns to you with a grin. "Let's talk about you, my dear. What are you looking for? What kind of wedding are we thinking of having?"

"Our situations are very similar in most ways, but in some ways we're the total opposite of each other." You explain, laughing a little when Sophia shrugs unapologetically. "We're both marrying Statesman execs, both having our wedding on the Statesman campus. I think we're both going for a sort of elegant Southern vibe. But where Soph is vibrant and extroverted and more of a party girl, I'm definitely looking for something simple and classic. My worry, though, is that everything simple is going to end up being a little boring."

“Your friend said the veil was going to be a part of your look. May I see it?” She asks, eager to see what kind of style the veil is designed in.

"The veil is an heirloom." Carefully digging into your tote, you unzip the case you have it in and lift out the antique lace to show the consultant. "This is the only thing that is non-negotiable. I could walk out of here with the most expensive and elaborate dress you sell even though I came in wanting simple and chic, but it has to work with this veil. Every bride in my soulmate's family for the last hundred and twelve years has worn it."

“It’s beautiful.” Ellie’s eyes widen and she reaches out to examine the lace. “This is hand sewn.” It is much better quality than most veils brought in that were from the 70s or 80s and the bride's mother wanted them to wear. This piece is timeless. “Simple, you say? This would look magnificent against a satin bridal gown.”

“I’m open to trying anything.” It would be silly to point out that you’re not used to wearing gowns so anything she suggests to try would be new for you. You can’t imagine most women wear an excess of gowns in their lifetime. Some, of course. But not most.

"Do you have any preference for cut?" She asks, eyeing your figure. "I have a selection of gowns that would be gorgeously simple and not clash with the veil but rather work with it to give you a wonderful bridal look."

“I just want to be able to dance,” you tell her with a grin. “He’s an amazing dancer.”

Nodding, she gently lets go of the veil and smiles at the three of you. "I will get you set up with some champagne and then start pulling dresses for you to see." She promises as she stands up. "I feel like you both will find exactly what you want."

It's a few minutes before your consultant returns with a tray of drinks and shows you that your dressing rooms are the ones right beside where you're sitting. She disappears again with an excited grin, headed into the belly of the salon to the stockroom to pull some dresses. It seems like the three of you have barely had a few sips, though, when a tall man with dark features and an easy smile sidles up to your area. "Miss Andrews?" He asks in a thick Middle-Eastern accent, looking to see which one of you answers. "Ellie told me you were interested in one of my colored gowns for your wedding dress."

Sophia’s eyes widen and she is immediately standing, rushing to shake the hand of one of her favorite designers. “Yes.” She gushes happily. “I am in love with your designs.”

“The very highest compliment I could ever receive.” Murad smiles warmly and shakes Sophia’s hand with both of his. “There are a few gowns here that could be dyed. I will help Ellie pull those for you and we will see what you think of them. But,” he flashes her a grin. “If we do not turn up anything here, then we will come up with a design all your own, together.”

“The only thing that I care about is that the dress matches the color of my ring.” Sophia can’t help but grin back at the handsome man.

"A beautiful piece," he praises, letting the emerald catch the light and dance. "Your fiancé has excellent taste."

"Thank you." Sophia beams and twists the ring on her hand. "We were joking that I should have a dress to match and I absolutely fell in love with the idea."

"It is not a joke, it is genius." The designer flashes a grin at Sophia and then at you and Gabi on the plush little loveseat. "Let me see what is here that can be dyed, and I will come back with Ellie to see what you think."

Sophia giggles nervously and nods, turning back towards you and Gabi when he walks away. "Oh my fucking god! I cannot believe I just met him!!!!" She squeals, nearly apoplectic with glee.

"I think that was more than a meet, honey," you wrap a giddy Sophia up in a hug and let her giggle fit ride itself out naturally. "He just offered to custom design your wedding dress if you don't like anything on site."

"Oh god, he did, didn't he?" She's completely awestruck and nearly spills her champagne as she plops down on the cushioned chaise lounger. "I missed that. I just– oh my god, do you think he would find it strange if I invited him to the wedding?"

"I don't know if he would be able to come, but I think it would be a very nice gesture." She's completely overcome with the encounter and you can't help but laugh softly. "How about if I meet my dress's designer too, we'll both invite them. And then we can be weird together?" It's such a silly suggestion, but kind of a sweet one. Like a big thank you for a day that is already so wonderful.

"Maybe he can design something simple for you." She bites her lip and looks around in complete starstruck awe. "I cannot believe I am here. We are here. We are going to be getting married!"

“She’s gonna take off to outer space.” Gabi laughs, carefully extracting Sophia’s glass from her hand while you hug her.

“Can’t say I blame her.” There’s activity all around you, consultants toting dresses and other brides giddily browsing the pieces hanging in the sales floor, and you look around with a sigh. “It’s like bridal Disneyland.”

Gabi snorts and can't deny that. "It is bridal Disney, isn't it?" She hums, amused by the idea. "We need to see about adding a bridal boutique to the Statesman label." She chuckles. "Have it be an all in one wedding venue."

“If we had a bridal label we’d be unstoppable.” The very idea of it makes you grin, as if you don’t have enough on your plate already with the restaurant just opening and the event planning taking off at the same time. “Champ would either throw resources at us or realize he’s created a monster.”

"You don't think that man is aware that he has created a monster?" Gabi asks you, raising a brow even as she grins at you. "He's fully aware."

“Jack’s the one who keeps encouraging me to dream,” you shrug like it means nothing, but it’s honestly one of the more sincere and romantic things he could possibly do. “Champ’s just the facilitator.”

"Maybe one day." Gabi offers, leaning over to tap her glass to yours. "Lord knows our Statesman family is going to be growing."

“Still thinking about baby number three?” She had seemed to glow with the idea after joking about it on the plane, and you could definitely see Gabi and Astrid deciding to give Ricky and Carmen a little brother or sister.

“I kind of am.” She admits with a dreamy smile. “I know Astrid would let me carry the next one, so I just– I want to talk to her about it and see what she thinks.”

"You guys are the cutest parents. I'm sure she'd be excited for it." Aside from your sister and brother-in-law, Gabi and Astrid are the parents of young children that you've spent the most time around and that both makes you ache and anxious all at once. It would be wonderful to have kids, but you have no idea how you would be as a mother or how Jack would respond to the idea of being a father again.

“Are you okay?” Gabi’s soft smile turns concerned as she scooches closer to you. “You suddenly look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

It hit you like a ton of bricks - the horror tinging your realization with fear. When was your last period? "I'm okay." Unfortunately it's a flat out lie, but you just smile and set your champagne glass back on the tray when Ellie reappears with her hands full of gowns. Gabi doesn't need to know. No one needs to know. No one needs to know that you can't remember the date of your period. Getting an IUD had never made them stop completely, only made them dramatically lighter. But it's...it's been months. Shit.

She doesn’t question you any more, but she side eyes you. Wondering if you are feeling nervous about the dress or if it’s something to do with children. “You know, I think Jack will be a wonderful father.” She murmurs reassuringly right as Ellie starts to talk.

"I have a few of our simpler gowns here in a variety of silhouettes so that you can get a better feeling for what style you might like, and we can go from there," she tells you with a happy smile before looking to Sophia. "And you, my lucky friend, Zuhair just pulled a few things from the stockroom. He's right behind me."

She is practically bouncing in her seat, excited, although she turns towards you expectantly. “Are you ready to find your dream dress and have an extra week of honeymoon?” She teases, having fully sided with Jack.

"We'll see." Forcing yourself to paint on a smile, you push out of your seat and follow Ellie into the small dressing room. Everything on the hangers is delicate and focuses on your body instead of obscuring details, and now all you can think of is how you might be pregnant and trying to do the goddamn math on your cycle.

"Do you have one you want to start with?" The bubbly consultant asks, but the best you can do is chew your lip in concern. "How about something classic?" She suggests when you look more worried than excited. "A simple satin ballgown for that princess feeling?"

"Sure." You nod, reminding yourself how, and start to slip out of your jacket. Focus. You need to focus.

Whisking you off towards the changing area, Ellie starts listing off the attributes of the gown in question, making up for your decided lack of questions. Something has changed but it’s not her place to ask.

The first dress you come out in is...large. It's a poofy princess dress if ever there was one, and with the terror that you're now feeling your mind has wandered to thinking about what any of these gowns would look like on a pregnant woman. "Let's see what they think," you suggest, instead of admitting that you don't like it very much. It's too big and you know that a baby bump would only make it worse.

The moment you step outside the little changing area, both women can tell you don’t like it. They each shake their heads. “It’s too…poofy.” Gabi offers politely and Sophia snorts. “You look like a cream puff.”

“Thanks, guys.” The way you roll your eyes at both of them is a half-assed attempt at humor, and you shake your head. “So ballgown is out? No Princess Sugar?” Humor is good, you tell yourself weakly. Humor will help.

“I think something sleek, more fitted, Princess Peach.” Sophia smirks at you with a wink.

“Now, I know who Princess Peach is,” Ellie laughs, helping you down from the pedestal in the gown that has been dubbed too much “But who is Princess Sugar?”

“Sugar is the nickname that Jack – her fiancé – coined for her.” Gabi explains, throwing you a smirk. “Very southern.”

“I own a restaurant.” Is the explanation you give, stumbling over your words like a nervous weirdo. “I was a pastry chef when we met…I make cakes…it’s a whole thing.”

“It’s sappy and adorable.” Sophia flutters her eyelashes dramatically as you disappear, but jumps off the couch immediately a second later as Murad reappears with three enormous dresses for her to try.

“Here are the ones that I think will be best, if you don’t like them, I can sketch a design.” He offers.

Sophia is giddy as she lets herself be swept into the second dressing room while you go to change into your second dress. Gabi can hear her cooing with glee behind the thin wall, but she didn’t miss the way you hadn’t had any light in your eyes at all when you came out in your first dress. Something happened, she just doesn’t know what or how.

“The dress can be dyed if it is not quite what you are imagining and I have taken the liberty of pulling all emerald green fabrics I have.” Murad calls through the curtain as Ellie helps Sophia into the first dress.

“Sounds like you’re in heaven over there,” you call out through the wall between dressing rooms, enjoying the gleeful sound of Sophia’s giggling next door. The second dress that has been pulled for you is a trumpet gown that you would probably have loved if you weren’t feeling a roiling stomach and the weight of the world on your shoulders. Sophia emerges from the dressing room with a strapless gown with all the most beautiful embellishments and a sweetheart neckline to die for, looking like an angel come down to earth. You remind yourself to smile again, not wanting to spoil your friend’s unbridled excitement.

“What do we think?” Sophia asks, biting her lip as she looks in the mirror at her reflection and dying a little inside as she sees herself.

“You look like a dream, honey!” Gabi squeals, sitting up on the sofa with her glass clutched in both hands. “Tex would lose his mind to see you in that dress.”

“Okay, so I love this, but….” She tilts her head and glances at Murad in the mirror. “There was one that was off the shoulder sleeves, right?”

"Are you thinking of the sleeves from that gown on this one?" He tilts his head at her like an artist considering their muse and grins mischievously. "Let me..." The thought trails off as he ducks out of sight, going to grab a veil from the nearest display and manipulating the long length of fabric in his hands. Each end is somehow magically transformed into a small, loose sleeve that hangs off her shoulder like an elegantly fallen strap. It falls just around the middle of her arm and makes the whole thing look positively refined. "Like this, you mean?"

"Yes." She nods, biting her lip as she stares at herself in the mirror. "That is what I am looking for. The way that it sits has always seemed so refined and luxurious to me."

You stand and watch, taking in the way Sophia’s face lights up and tears well up behind her eyes as she talks with the designer and customizes her gown. He shows her the shades of green he could dye the fabric and they coo over the design together, and you really feel like you might be sick as the room spins around you in anxiety instead of happiness. There have been times you’ve been sick lately - days you haven’t eaten because you’ve been sick to your stomach, extra headaches, back aches, cramping. There was the incident two nights ago with your breasts being overly sensitive… How long has it been? Two months? Three?

Gabi just happens to glance over at you to see the absolutely crushed look on your face. Setting her champagne glass down, she quickly stands and crosses the floor to where you are seemingly doing an astrophysics problem in your head and touches your arm lightly. "Honey, what is wrong? What happened?"

“Nothing.” The answer comes far too quickly and far too sharply, and even Ellie looks concerned on your other side, but you can’t just — oh god, you were drinking…you’ve been drinking alcohol this whole time…and so much caffeine… “I’m not feeling great,” you murmur finally, knowing that it’s half-assed but not daring to spoil Sophia’s moment.

"I have some Tylenol in my purse." Gabi offers helpfully. "Do you have a headache?"

“It’s — m-more of a stomach ache.” It’s an aching feeling everywhere of complete dread and fear, but you make yourself smile for Gabi as though it can be brushed off. “It’s okay. I think I’ll just…lay off the liquor until it subsides.” Or for the next six or seven months…

Highly skeptical, Gabi discreetly glances around the boutique to make sure that you haven't seen someone who has spooked you. You look scared, not like you have a stomachache. "Alright, but if you need me to call Astrid, I can. She can run a diagnostic of you in the Statesman truck."

“If it keeps up.” You nod like you would ever agree to that, even though the idea of being hooked up to anything medical on a Statesman vehicle makes your skin crawl with memories from a month ago. And that’s when it hits you - like a freight train coming right at a cartoon character. If something has gone wrong and you are pregnant? It can’t be Jack’s…

"Oooookay." Gabi grabs you as your knees threaten to buckle and she waves Sophia off. "Let's get you out of this dress and into the bathroom, okay?" Astrid has been concerned that memories from a month ago would resurface and cause issues and from the way you look like you are going to puke, that has to be it. "Okay, come on sweetheart. We can manage everything." She promises. "I have a Valium in my purse just in case something like this happened."

“Is that safe?” You ask in earnest, letting Gabi bring you back into the dressing room like you’re on the end of a set of leading strings.

"It's fine." She assures you quietly. "Astrid gave it to me just in case you had problems."

“I’m okay.” Getting out of the confining dress and back into your own clothes will help, so you don’t hesitate when Gabi shuts the door behind you. Your head is spinning too much which makes the room turn on its axis and the feeling of panic in your chest is making everything more urgent and terrifying.

Maybe that Valium isn’t such a bad idea after all — Astrid sent it because you were attacked here, why did you think this would be a good idea? Everything inside and around you is moving so fast that you don’t even realize you’ve dropped to your knees. Quick, sharp breaths are going to have you hyperventilating in no time but you can’t stop them, and the way your skin is crawling makes you want to scratch your skin clean off. You drag your fingernails up your forearms with purpose, and if you didn’t have short nails from decades of culinary work you might actually succeed in tearing yourself apart.

“Let me–” as a mother, Gabi always carries a bottle of water or a juice box in her purse. Grabbing the oversized bag had been a stroke of luck as she starts to rifle through it until she comes up with a small bottle of water. “Here, drink this.” She kneels down beside you and twists the plastic cap off to hold it up to your lips. “It’s okay.”

It’s a small mercy but still a notable one, mostly because you have to stop scratching yourself to hold the bottle. Gabi gently takes your other hand in both of hers, holding onto it to keep you from spiraling even harder as the tears start to fall and you swear you’re going to choke on the water you just swallowed.

“Come on. It’ll be okay. I promise. No one is going to hurt you.” She murmurs softly. “Our driver is an agent. Sophia is here. Say the word and we’ll have Jack here.”

"No!" The panic that you feel has nothing to do with what happened a month ago and everything to do with the position you would be putting Jack in if what you fear is true. "No–no, I mean...that's not necessary. I'm just..." You feel like an absolute nutcase, but you don't know how to tell her that without sounding silly. "I'm just not feeling well."

“Okay.” The best thing she can do for you is to calm you down. Agreeing with you makes you relax so she doesn’t hit the button in her bracelet yet. “Okay, we’ll just take a few deep breaths, sound good?”

"I'm sorry," you curl in on yourself, not having made it out of the sample wedding dress before the panic started, and wish you could make yourself disappear so you wouldn't feel so damn embarrassed.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Gabi tells you firmly, cupping your face in her hands. “Nothing at all. Do you understand?”

"I don't want to ruin this for Soph." Or ruin life for Sophia. For your friend. The last time you had your period was the week before your cousin's wedding...Isn't there some kind of old wives' tale about being extra fertile after your period? Or is that before? Shit shit shit.

“You won’t, she wants to be here for you too. She and Tex are so happy for you and Jack.” She insists.

"I'm okay," you insist again, despite it obviously being not true. The best you can do right now is force yourself to refocus. Force yourself to function. Pray that Sophia is so wrapped up in picking out her wedding dress that she never notices that anything was wrong with you in the first place.

“Here.” The small pill is offered to you. “Take this. It will help you relax. Short term.”

"I–um– thanks." Still a little shaky, you manage to take the offered medicine and have another sip of water without too much fuss, and breathe deeply as you stare at your knees. Could it be real? Are you really...pregnant?

It’s long minutes before you start to calm down. Your breathing returns to normal and Gabi takes the now empty water bottle and shoves it back into her purse. “You need another drink? I have a juice box.”

"Would you..." You turn to look at Gabi for the first time since this whole thing started, seeing the concern drawn on her face and the determination that you recognize from seeing her take care of her kids. "Would you just tell Sophia I'm okay if she asks? If she didn't notice then I don't want to worry her."

“I– you don’t think Sophia noticed?” She asks, shocked you would think that.

"Why?" It makes your head spin again in a way that jolts your stomach. "How long have we been in here?"

“Not long, but she’s an agent.” She reminds you gently. “And your mood went from happy to nearly frantic in an instant.”

"All the more reason to let her know that I'm okay, then." It's a miracle that you can think straight, if you're honest, but at least your skin has stopped crawling and you didn't do anything to damage the sample dress still clinging to your body. "I'm sure she has her dress sorted out by now. I'll just..." You blow out a breath that you hope sounds encouraging instead of wavering with fresh tears, which is how you feel. "Change out of this one and try the next. Since this one now has...questionable memories."

"It's not your style anyway." Gabi jokes, sending you a small smile as she stands and holds her hands out to you to help you to stand. After you get back to the hotel tonight, she will discreetly call Astrid and let her know that another therapy session would be good for you.

"Thanks, Gabi." You squeeze her hands before letting them go and refocusing yourself on the dresses that are hanging from the bar on the other side of the small dressing room. Thank god you elected not to wear make up today, or you'd probably look like a raccoon right now.

"This one seems more your style." Gabi offers, although you could never tell when the dress is on the hanger. "Do you want me to help you into it?" She asks quietly, willing to step out if you want.

"If I haven't frightened off our consultant, I'm sure she can help." It's less scary to have to face a near stranger with what's going on in your mind. Ellie doesn't know anything about what's happening in your life. She can't read you like a book the way your friends can. And she'll more than likely buy the story that you just aren't feeling well without pressing for more details.

"Okay." Gabi frowns but she is moving toward the door. "I will send her in."

Sophia is sitting on the loveseat in her regular clothes when Gabi comes back out, fidgeting with her sleeves and frowning heavily. "Is she okay?" She asks quietly once their consultant has gone back into the changing room. "She had an episode, didn't she?"

"Yeah." Gabi knew that Sophia would have noticed you. But she's happy that the other agent didn't push her way into the dressing room knowing it would have embarrassed you even more. "I gave her a Valium. Maybe we need to make it an early day?" She suggests softly. "Or maybe she'll be better once she's let the medicine kick in."

“She wants to keep going?” Sophia can’t tell if she’s surprised or not, knowing you to be both stubborn and usually fairly in tune with yourself. “No crazy partying tonight. Maybe a room service and a movie? And a museum tomorrow. She loves museums.” The laundry list of things she wanted to see can wait. Her best friend’s well being is far more important than anything else.

"That sounds like the perfect, low key evening that we need." She nods and bites her lip. "What about you, hun?" She reaches out and touches Sophia's arm. "Did you find something that you like or are you needing to have something designed?"

“We made a few tweaks, but the first dress was nearly perfect.” She keeps her voice respectfully low, but clasps Gabi’s hands eagerly. “It’s going to be beautiful, and one of a kind. I just hope our girl in there isn’t so overwhelmed that she doesn’t get to enjoy this appointment. Or this trip.”

"She's a trooper." Gabi smiles, excited for Sophia. "I know she will find the perfect dress." She prays that whatever is going on with you doesn't spoil the experience for you.

A few minutes later you emerge again with red eyes looking tired but forcing yourself to smile - knowing that today is about more than you. You’re just going to have to make sure you read the return and cancellation policy on this dress very carefully in case the worst happens.

"Oh." The dress is stunningly simple and yet it is completely breathtaking. The way it drapes over your form brings the soft folds of the dress and shimmering of the satin. "It's perfect."

“Yeah?” If you’re honest, you barely noticed anything about the dress you put on. It’s comfortable, sure, and simple. But past that? You couldn’t tell what the silhouette was or anything about the details if you tried. Still, you like that they like it. “Gabi picked it.”

"Yeah, love." Sophia stands and walks over towards you with a soft smile and reaches for the package with Jack's family veil in it. "Let's see if it's as perfect with this as I imagine it will be."

It’s nerve racking to see the veil come out now. You’re scared and trying not to show it, like in the back of your mind you know something is wrong and that it might affect Sophia’s relationship as much as your own. Who the fuck knows what will happen if you turn out to be pregnant with Tex’s baby. It will turn your whole world upside down. And hers. And Jack’s. And Tex’s.

Sophia freezes, trying not to immediately demand to know what is wrong. She knows you will deny anything is wrong. Instead, she moves slowly as she takes the veil out and drapes it over your head.

It is beautiful. You can’t deny that even if you have trouble looking yourself in the eye in the mirror. The low cowl neck of the dress makes room for a necklace and the even lower back keeps the focus on the veil, and on any other day you would be gasping right along with Gabi and tearing up for a good reason instead of a stressful one. “It’s…” your hand drifts to the edges of the veil and you try to banish the question mark of what this dress would look like on a pregnant woman. “It’s beautiful.”

Sophia knows that something is wrong. She can tell, but she's cheerful, trying to be your support. "It is beautiful. I know, I know that you shouldn't be pressured and it's all about what you want, but this is the one." She gushes, fluttering the veil around you. "Jack will lose his mind when he sees you in this dress."

“It’s exactly what I said I wanted.” You won’t deny that, even if you’re barely looking at your reflection. Your eyes just keep going back to your engagement rings over and over again. Thinking of Jack and hoping that you haven’t completely ruined your lives with recklessness.

"Do you– do you not like it?" Sophia asks softly. "Because if you don't, Ellie can pull more dresses. We will find something that you love."

“No, I do.” Thinking as quickly on your feet as you can, you force a smile and touch the edges of the veil again. If this is the only time you’re going to get to wear it, you want to at least appreciate its beauty again. “It will need a good necklace. And you two have to tell me if the back is too low.”

Turning you around, Sophia whistles. "That is a sexy back, love. No, you should show it off and this is the perfect dress to do so." She hums and Gabi jumps up to chime in. "Oh it's just lovely. Perfect. What do you think?" She asks you seriously.

“I think it’s right.” If you were thinking with a clear head right now, you would be in happy tears. It really is exactly what you said you wanted in a dress and you do look great in it, but your mind is just too cloudy at the moment to recognize that. “And I think even Louisville is too cold for this dress to be at a winter wedding.”

"Spring or summer?" Gabi asks, not willing to mention that she has clocked you choosing the dress at fifty-two minutes, thirty-five seconds.

“Spring, I guess.” When you finally look up to find your friends smiling at you, you try not to pull in on yourself self-consciously. “Soph and Tex already called dibs on this summer.”

"A spring wedding." Gabi grins conspiratorially. "That will make Jack happy as a pig in sunshine."

“Engaged for a whole year?” Sophia grins, suspicious but trying to cheer you up from whatever is bothering you. Because you are bothered. “You’ll have plenty of time to plan and dream, mate.”

“I think so.” When you nod it’s slow, but definite. “I think this is it.” They like it. Right now that’s the best thing you have to base a decision on, because there’s no way in hell that you can be objective or make the choice with a clear head.

“Great!” Both women cheer, trying to interject as much enthusiasm into the event as possible. They don’t want Ellie to think anything strange, although Sophia knows she has seen plenty of drama.

"Did we remember to keep the time?" You have no intention of letting Jack know what kind of chaos happened here this morning. None whatsoever. So you turn your mind to things that seem normal. Like the bet.

“Under an hour.” Gabi admits with a shrug. “Although if you have your heart set on that engagement trip…” She breaks off teasingly. “I can be bought for the price of a Manhattan in Manhattan.”

"No...he won, fair and square." It would have taken even less time if you hadn't freaked out, and you're not about to lie to him about things that don't matter. There are too many things that do matter at stake.

“I bet if you give him that Soul Snatcher Three Thousand when you get back and ask him for the engagement trip, the man will dance towards Disney wearing the ears.” Sophia waggles her brows suggestively and barks out a laugh a second later.

“We’re going to Montana in fall,” you tell them both quietly and reach to take the veil out of your hair. You’re going to hang on to every bit of normalcy and every promise as hard as you can right now. “That’s sort of going to be the trip, I think. Though…it won’t be silly. It’ll be good for him.”

“Oh….” Sophia had been told the story, the real story in its entirety and she knows that it will be emotional for both of you. “If you need to talk to someone, I’m here for you.”

“It will be good.” Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, it will be true. You can hope, at least. “His hometown does a big Labour Day festival every year, so we’re going to go for that.”

“That will be fun.” Gabi smiles. “Something fun to look forward to.”

“I’m going to get out of this so I can buy it,” you announce, hoping you sound excited. “Then we can go celebrate?”

“That sounds good.” Ellie ushers you towards the changing room and Sophia turns towards Gabi. “What are you thinking?”

“She won’t look us in the eyes,” Gabi murmurs sadly. “If I wasn’t convinced that that is the most perfect dress for her, I’d be insisting she wait to buy and we all go do something to distract ourselves.”

“She didn’t get a text, no one called.” Sophia looks around the room of mostly women and frowns. “Do you think something reminded her of the kidnapping?”

“I don’t know what else it would be.” Gabi admits with a sigh. “I gave her the Valium, and I’m going to let Astrid know what happened. But other than that? I’m not sure what to do.”

“All we can do is support her.” Sophia frowns, making a note to text Jack if you still are off kilter by dinner time.

“We’ll get her through it.” It’s as much of a promise to Sophia as it is to you without you even being there.

“Yes we will. And if we need to head back tonight, I will have the plane ready.” Sophia won’t put your mental health at risk. She won’t.

******

Your dress purchased and arrangements made for you to be contacted when it comes in so you can be fitted, Sophia and Murad exchange information to work on her custom made dress, then the three of you pile out onto New York’s streets. “Where to now?” Gabi asks, looping her arm through yours. “Anywhere you want to go.” She tells you.

"Sophia made a list." It's less deflecting than it is just angling to not have to think about much of anything - and that includes decision making. But Sophia isn't having it, and she shakes her head as the three of you pile into the waiting Statesman car. "Anywhere you want to go," she insists, keeping hold of your hand in the backseat. They're a stubborn pair when they agree on something, and you look between them with a sigh. "We could go to a museum?" It's your go to. Museums and food tourism. And right now you can't stomach the idea of food.

“Why don’t we do one of the smaller museums?” Sophia offers. “Near the hotel in case we want to go back and rest?” The unspoken part of it suggests that you might want to go back, to not participate and it gives you an out if you need it.

"I know you guys don't want to be dragged around the Frick Collection or some other intense little art museum." It's sweet that they're trying to be kind after what happened in the dress shop, but you really don't want this trip to be about you and you know at least half of Sophia's list. "Why don't we do Madame Toussad's? Selfies with wax people sounds like a silly as hell way to spend the afternoon."

“Yes!” It sounds like just the type of activity to get you out of your head so both women nod eagerly. “Let’s do that and we can decide what to eat afterwards.” Sophia decides.

“Times Square has tons of places. It will be great.” Gabi agrees, wanting things to go smoothly from here on out.

Each woman flanks you, wanting you to feel protected and surrounded by someone familiar. Each one believing that you are reliving the trauma of the last month. “Maybe we will find some inspiration for your menu.” Sophia encourages.

“We should take Soph someplace absurd and touristy. Super American.” You suggest, sitting back between both women as the car makes its way around Central Park. “Like Red Lobster or Margaritaville levels of absurd.” Silly will help, you decide, sitting on your hands so that they don’t move self consciously to your unchanged stomach. Silly is good.

“Ohhhhh we can get wasted in Margaritaville, right?” She grins. “Like that song?”

You’ll definitely be laying off the booze for the rest of the trip for necessary reasons, but you swallow it and add a smile as you nod. “Absolutely, Soph.”

“Great!” There’s practically nothing a little booze and girl time can’t fix, so she is immediately leaning forward to lower the glass to tell the driver to take you all to the Wax Museum.

******

Madame Toussad’s Wax Museum is plenty busy, full of families and groups of friends out for the same silly distraction that the three of you are. The staged dummies and their scenery providing just enough distraction to have you breathing normally and even laughing a little with your friends.

“This place is wonderful.” Sophia gushes. “Creepy, but wonderful.” She looks around at all the wax figurines. “We should do waxes of the agents.” She laughs.

“Tex would hide his all around the house to scare you.” Gabi snorts, thinking of how much fun the agent has been known to have, acting like an oversized child in some of his time off.

“God he would.” Sophia laughs, shaking her head. “Until I decapitated it and then he would pout.”

“You can’t cut off that beautiful face.” Gabi laughs, posing next to the model of actor Channing Tatum just like he’s Tex. They’re about the same size, so it works. “He’d be such a sad boy.”

“Tex’s ears are a little bigger but I swear they are brothers.” She huffs, stepping closer to examine the figurine of the man who looks just like her fiancé. “All that ridin’ I’ve been doing. Gotta hold onto somethin’.” She drawls, imitating a southern accent.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” Gabi giggles, swinging her hips in an impromptu dance move that makes all three of you laugh. It is, after all, the unofficial Statesman motto.

“Speaking of…” Sophia smirks. “There’s been a lack of complaints around your house early in the mornings the last few days. Have you just decided to wear Jack out at night or did you turn the safe room into your sex room?” She waggles her brows outrageously.

“The restaurant starting up has changed our schedule a little.” You excuse, suddenly hyper focused on a speck of dirt on your hand. “And I’ve been a lot more tired.”

“I’m sure you are.” Sophia nods, reaching out and patting your hand. “Let me know if there’s something I can do. I did work my grandpa’s pub back across the pond.”

“Thanks.” Everyone here knows you’ll never ask. Not only do you have a great staff but you’re stubborn as hell. Still, it’s nice that she offered. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“Everything is perfect. Have you not read the reviews?” Countless food critics for the area have already been out to try the newest addition to Statesman and each one of them have come away giving rave reviews.

“Then being tired is worth it.” You decide, flashing them both that smile that feels a little more authentic with that encouragement.

“Ohhhh look! There’s Nic Cage!” Gabi squeals, darting over to the next display. “This is– is it a wax figure or does he come and pose everyday?” She giggles, poking the figure’s waxy face.

“It’s his Dorian Gray statue instead of a portrait,” Sophia laughs, dragging you with her to the next display. “If you move the clothes you’d see horrible disfiguration.”

You jump from exhibit to exhibit, Gabi and Sophia making sure that there isn’t a lull in the conversation or jokes being tossed out. Wanting to make sure you don’t have time to think about being upset. By the time you’re through the Creepy But Fun (as you all agreed upon) museum full of uncanny wax people, you’ve calmed down a little. But only in so much as the panic has turned into a slowly simmering dread in your belly.

“Where to now?” Sophia asks, grinning at your obviously more cheered spirits and links her arm with yours. “I’m famished.”

"Do you still want to go to Margaritaville for dinner?" The thought of alcohol makes you queasy but you can just have a virgin one and soldier on. The point is for Sophia to have fun.

“Unless you have some little hidden gem that we have to try?” Sophia asks with a grin. “Have you been holding out on us?”

"There's always..." You bite your lip and shrug a little, deciding that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to have a little fun. There's been a plan slowly forming in the back of your head all afternoon and it will take care of everything. Or at least...it's the best idea you have for not ruining the lives of everyone you love. "There's two places. In Chelsea...both are great but one of them is inside the theater for this crazy play, so you kind of have to do both to get the whole experience."

“Tell me more.” Sophia cocks her head curiously, intrigued by the sound of it.

“The play has a restaurant and a bar in it and instead of sitting down to watch you get up and run around and follow the actors everywhere. And the audience all wears masks, and you can’t talk, and then after you find your friends in the bar and talk about what you saw.” It’s something you’ve done with your siblings a few times and always loved it. No two experiences are ever the same, but it’s exhausting. “If you want a quieter night, we can go to the Argentinian restaurant across the street. The wine list is killer and if we name drop my brother they might make us something special.”

“The play thing sounds fun.” Sophia admits with a grin. “It’s not something I have done before. How about you?” She turns to ask Gabi.

"I don't think I've been to a play outside of Louisville since Astrid was stationed here." It had been very early in her time with Statesman, but back then they had loved to go to Broadway. "I'm in for a weird play where you run around."

“Then it’s decided.” Sophia would sing karaoke in a shoebox if it meant you would be happy, so the smile on your face as you agree means the world to her.

"Let's see if we can actually get three tickets." You pull out your phone as you walk through Times Square between them, headed to your hotel just a block away. "We can have the driver take us, which is a miracle because walking there sucks." The times you had gone with your siblings, you had done the combination of subway travel and walking which was less than fun. Sophia has one arm through yours to make sure you stay on the sidewalk while your face is in your phone and you make a small noise of surprise when there are actually tickets available for tonight. "Looks like we're doing it. I recommend lightweight clothes and your comfiest shoes. We're going to be running all night."

“We have time to go back to the hotel?” Sophia asks. “Or are we running into Target and buying what we need?”

“We have plenty of time.” The hotel is just around the corner and the three of you pop straight into the elevator easily. “It’s not really traditional, but it is based in Shakespeare. But it’s dancing. A lot of dancing.”

“I always like dancing.” Sophia’s eyes widen suddenly. “Ooooooh!” She squeals, “can we go to the Coyote Ugly bar?”

“Tomorrow night,” you promise, laughing when she looks as excited about that as she did about shopping for her wedding dress.

“Always wanted to go there since seeing that movie.” She confesses with a grin.

“We can make that happen.” Gabi chuckles on your other side. She opens the door to your suite with her key and ushers you all inside. “But if you get up and start dancing on the furniture, I’m taking video.”

“Oh absolutely.” She had already anticipated that. “And send it to Tex, hm? Make him regret telling me that I wouldn’t have fun.”

“That boy honestly thought there was any kind of scenario you wouldn’t make fun?” The dismissive sound Gabi makes as she digs into her suitcase for suitable clothing for the night is accompanied by a sigh. “He really is a clown.”

“A rodeo clown.” Sophia had giggled over the few photos Tex had shown her. It had been something fun to tease him about when he was wearing dapper suits that he didn’t find comfortable at all.

"From rodeo clown to super spy." You shake your head as you dig through your suitcase for comfortable clothes to wear tonight. Everything that you had packed was reasonably stylish, but at least you had thought to tuck your good sneakers in the bottom of your case so that you could keep up with all the adventuring Sophia wanted to do.

“So I’m going to wear leggings and a cute t-shirt.” Sophia offers, tossing out her clothes haphazardly. “That sound okay?”

"That works. I've got a pair of jeans and..." The shirt in your hand when you lift it out of your suitcase makes you swallow back an emotional reaction. "Jack packed me his Creedence Clearwater Revival t-shirt..." It's such a small gesture but it has you breathing shakily as you inhale the scent of his cologne from the stretched and worn cotton. "I–I'm going to sleep in that, I think," you murmur almost to yourself, replacing it in the suitcase and pulling out the Louisville Slugger t-shirt that you had bought at the factory tour. If Sophia noticed the expression of almost heartbreak, she doesn’t mention it. Wondering if you are just in your feelings because of where you and Jack were when you were last in New York.

“I’ll call the restaurant to see if they have a reservation left. If not, we’ll go to the place across the street.” You can’t possibly excuse yourself fast enough, heading into the suite’s bedroom to change clothes quickly and make the call. There’s someone else that you definitely need to talk to - but that will be face-to-face.

“She seems better.” Gabi immediately moves towards Sophia and frowns at the closed door. “Don’t you think?”

“Looked like she saw a ghost when she found Jack’s shirt, though. Didn’t she?” Sophia chews on her lower lip. “Hopefully this play thing will take her mind off whatever it is that’s got her so fuckin’ upset.” She wishes you would just talk to them, but there are glimpses of you feeling better that have her hopeful.

“That Southern accent is coming along nicely.” Gabi teases playfully. Sophia had said she was going to work on making her English accent less noticeable much to Tex’s disappointment.

“I put in for a transfer,” she admits with a sly grin. “Champ just has to have the board sign off on it.”

“Really!” Gabi squeals happily, knowing that Tex will be happy about that. “Becoming a certified Statesman agent?”

“I don’t want to take the chance that they’ll transfer me after we’re married.” She reasons, knowing that anything is possible when their jobs and lives can be so unpredictable. “At the end of the day, I always want to be able to come home to him.”

“I can understand that.” Gabi offers quietly. “Your jobs are very unpredictable. You spend time where you can.”

“I don’t want to miss anything.” It’s less of a concern for you and Gabi because of your lifestyles, but for Sophia and Tex? It’s a very real concern.

“You won’t.” Gabi reaches for a quick hug. “Champ is very good about balancing work and home. He won’t let you two stay apart for long, even on a mission.”

"We have Diana to thank for that." If not for his soulmate and his son, Champ would be just as much of a workaholic as most American men of his age. Thankfully, having loved ones to come home to had softened his opinion of home life completely and Diana had taught him balance.

“I just hope that we are all happy as larks.” Sophia hums, the soft smile on her face reserved for when she is thinking about her fiancé.

"We will be." Gabi has made sure she is, and she knows that Sophia and Tex already are. It seems though, unfortunately, that there are still bumps in your road. If not with Jack, then just personal ones.

"Dinner reservations are in thirty-five minutes," you announce when you come out of the bathroom in your casual clothes to dig out your sneakers. "I pulled up the menu on my phone so we can look at it in the car."

“If you enjoy it; we know we are going to eat well.” Sophia shrugs off the idea of looking at the menu. Your tastes are exquisite and you wouldn’t bring them somewhere you didn’t enjoy.

"And drink well." The sneakers you packed are favourites, lovingly broken in and tatty with affection, but strong enough to stand their ground against a few days running around the city. You pull them on and stick a double knot in the laces for good measure. "Everything at this place is good, but the cocktails are on a whole other level."

“Ohhh then we are having some drinks!” Sophia declares, although she won’t drink too much. Maybe one or two cocktails. She wants to be mostly sober in case you have another issue. She doesn’t want you to feel like you have to deal with it alone.

"Everybody finished getting changed so we can get across the city!" Gabi urges, moving around the room with purpose now that she sees you starting to perk up again and Sophia getting excited.

"I'll be ready to go in a second," you promise, moving your essentials from the large purse you had been carrying today to the zipped pockets of your worn jeans. No purse at this place is better - and in no time the three of you are back on the elevator, headed down to the street to have the driver take you to the theatre house.

Your stomach is still in knots as the driver brings you through the crowded streets of the city, and you look out the window while Sophia and Gabi gush about something that you weren't paying attention to in the first place. The idea that you could be pregnant has consumed you almost entirely since it entered your mind this morning and while it's eating at you, at least you have a plan now. One that you can't say you're particularly proud of - but you would rather bare a private shame than destroy the lives of the people you've come to love so much.

Back in Kentucky, Jack frowns at his phone. Since going into the consultation, it’s been nothing but radio silence. He knows you are safe, he can clearly see the ping of your location along with Gabi’s, Sophia’s, and the driver’s. It was a friend of Rye’s that owed him a favor. He sighs softly, wishing you had at least teased him with how much he was going to love your dress, but he’s more worried. You’ve been….off. And you being in New York has him on edge. Shaking off his regrets, he opens your messages and types out one to you: Hey sugar, I know you and the girls are partying it up, but I wanted to check in with you. I hope you are having fun. The restaurant is in good hands but this house surely is a lot more lonely without you curled up with me on the couch. I love you.

The vibration of your phone is unexpected, stirring you out of your thoughts and pulling your lips into a conflicted half-frown when you see Jack's name pop up on your screen. Being afraid of hurting him had made you entirely shut down from even texting him. Hell, if it had occurred to you at home in Louisville, you probably would have shut off from your friends instead. But they're here with you in the car and Jack is at home, so he had gotten the blunt end of your fear instead. You swallow a sigh as you open the text, nearly in tears as you read it through twice before replying: We're taking lots of pictures, so I can show you some when we get home. We're heading to the theater so my phone will be off for a few hours. I love you.

Love.

You love that man more than anything in the world. And that's why you're heading straight to see Astrid in her lab the second you're back on Statesman ground.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide​ @elegantduckturtle  ​

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfic #Pedro Pascal fanfiction #Jack Daniels #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #soulmate au #Agent Tequila #Agent Tequila x OC #Agent Tequila x female OC #fear of pregnancy #missed period

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Can you pretty please write something really really angsty like Spider being insecure and having issues with self worth and feeling conflicted with having an actual father figure that actually cares about him?

Really have been enjoying your writing 💜💜💜

Awww sure! I’m always up for writing angsty Spider and Quaritch feels 🥰

Burden of a lone pup

Spider was a loner for most of his life, that was his fate. To be a stray cat, a drifter, a hermit.

The kid tried so hard to fit in from a very young age, but it seemed as though no one really wanted him. Or, well, it’s not like Spider was hated per ce, but no one was willing to make the leap and take responsibility for him as a proper parent. Some tried, like his "foster parents" at hell’s gate, but they haven’t bothered to provide for him beyond physical objects such as a roof or clothing.

And for the longest time, Spider convinced himself that it was fine. He was a tough kid, he could handle being a lone wolf (though he was perhaps more of a pup at the moment). It wasn’t anyone’s fault that he was born at the worst time and from the worst person imaginable.

However, humans are sadly social creatures who long to have a community or a family to fall back on, whoever that might be, so the kid kept drifting, trying desperately to gaslight himself into thinking that it was alright, that it was no one’s fault for not needing him. He was the son of a man who lead a war on Omatekaya, he should be thankful that they haven’t killed him yet and keep his head down.

But then, one day, while on an outing with friends, the boy got kidnapped. Taken away from everything he’s ever known by a man who he never thought he’d meet face to face.

Miles Quaritch. Could this twist get any more insane?

Oh yes it could, because Spider found through the past several weeks of going on "trips" with him and his squad that, to his horror…it wasn’t that bad.

It wasn’t that bad because Quaritch actively accommodated their translator. He kept him close, warm, and well fed at all times, though he didn’t have to.

Spider couldn’t remember last time he didn’t have to hunt his own food, or the time an adult gave him a piece of clothing to wrap into when Pandorian nights became too frigid. Miles’s jacket was big and puffy and felt nice to sleep in. He’d never admit that aloud though.

The attention given to Spider felt weird to him at first, even suspicious, like Quaritch was for whatever reason interested in getting on his good graces.

But it seemed genuine, disgustingly so.

And Spider hated it. Hated the way Miles’s years would perk up and towards him whenever the boy spoke, all attention on him, even when he talked about the most useless, trivial things that had nothing to do with surviving the hostile environment. He hated how the tip of marine’s tail would wag when Spider showed a rare smile or a laugh.

He hated how, when the camp went to rest at night, Quaritch would crouch where the kid slept, far from other recoms, and whisper a gentle "good night, tiger" thinking Spider was out of it, when in fact he’s quite a light sleeper.

He loathed how, on one of those nights, Quaritch approached his lying form and leaned down, giving his son captive a kiss on top of his head. And he resented the way his heart exploded at that gesture.

Spider only knew this man personally for a month and a half, and before that, he used to watch him on screens for more than a decade, learning of all Miles’s atrocities.

Yet in that moment he wanted nothing more than to leap up, hug this monster and plead with him to never leave. His eyes teared up at the realisation.

It was pathetic. How could Spider want something to do with Quaritch? He knew of all his sins, of how cruel he could be, how soulless and cold.

So why did he yearn for those small bits of affection he’d receive from him every day? Why did he melt at the praise? Why did he want to be taken care of?

It must be because he is a horrible person. It made total sense now. Spider had Quaritch’s blood running through his veins, it was only fair he’d be an asshole just like him and as the thought sank in, he felt like taking off his mask and throwing it away.

Spider was a traitor now, so he didn’t deserve to live, he thought, ignoring that small, crying part of him that just longed to be loved, to not be alone anymore, to be seen, because he wasn’t worthy of it.

Spider Socorro was not worthy of love, and it made Quaritch’s gentleness all the more painful.

He wished none of it ever happened. He wished he’d never experience parental love like he had in these past few weeks. He wished he could just be a hermit again but alas, Miles has the boy in his clutches, and he isn’t keen on letting go.

So why not give in? Spider thought, just a little?

Just this once?

.

.

.

It’s not much, but it’s honest work 😮‍💨 hope you like it! 💅

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar spider #avatar headcanons #avatar way of water #spider socorro #miles quaritch #miles spider soccoro #recom quaritch #avatar quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #spider avatar #spider soccoro #miles soccoro #miles socorro #na’vi quaritch #atwow quaritch

[readerleedigest]

On Edge Pt. 2

This is a tickle fic. Don’t read if that’s not your thing. 

Reader does have to go get their ankle checked out after the fall they took in Part 1. 

“You ready to go?” Steve was standing in the doorway, swinging the keys around his fingers. 

You finished tying your shoe, which fit uncomfortably around the ace bandage on your ankle. It’d seemed like the ankle had healed after your fall down the stairs. However, now that it’d been a month the pain had started up again, and you could tell you were fighting to keep from rolling it again. 

You’d planned to just give it more time, but Robin was adamant that you let Steve take you to get it checked out. One thing led to another, and they’d sent you to Physical Therapy. 

Something you’d be more than happy to drive yourself to and from. 

“Steve, for the last time, I’m perfectly capable of driving myself there.” You stood up, gesturing towards your wrapped ankle. “I think the whole thing is pretty pointless anyways. Gait and strength training. As if I don’t know how to walk.”

“Do you?” Steve laughed. “Know how to walk, that is? Because I’ve seen enough to argue otherwise.”

“Okay, rude,” you scoffed, barely suppressing a laugh. “Just for that, I get to choose the music in your car.”

“Oh, so I am taking you?”

“I’m blessing you with the privilege of chauffeuring me.”

“Oh, thank you most gracious Y/N.” He mockingly bowed. “Now come on. We’ll be late, and it’s your first appointment.”

By the time Steve parked the car, you were thinking of all the ways this could go wrong and you could embarrass yourself. Seriously, what kind of 20-year-old can’t walk without injuring themself? These people would think you were stupid or something.

“Hey.”

A sudden squeeze on the top of your knee had you jolting back to the present with a choked laugh. 

“STEHEVE,” you scolded, slapping his hand away. 

“I know that look. You’re in your head again.” Steve raised an eyebrow at you, and you shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. 

“Let’s just get it over with,” you sighed, getting out of the car and walking inside, Steve trailing behind. 

The receptionist had you fill out a few pages worth of paperwork, and let you know that the Physical Therapist would be out to see you shortly. 

You tried hard not to overthink again, but you were still anxious. 

“This knee is really a problem for you today, huh?” Steve joked, pushing down on your knee gently, as you’d been bouncing it up and down rapidly as you waited. 

“Maybe you just put me on edge.”

“Ah, the old ‘on edge’ excuse again. We all know what that really means.”

“That is not what I --”

You were interrupted by the Physical Therapist, who called your name and introduced herself as Sam. 

“You can bring your boyfriend back into the working area with us,” Sam offered to Steve, causing you to chuckle. 

“He’s not --”

“I’ll come back if that’s not any trouble,” Steve smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“No trouble at all!” Sam smiled, turning to lead the way. You took that opportunity to shove him away from you, causing Steve to laugh. 

You sat down on a cushioned bench, and Sam had you remove your shoe and bandage so she could see the full range of motion in your ankle. 

“Any pain?”

“None in my ankle right now.”

“How about now?” Same pushed against the bottom of your foot towards you, stretching the muscle in your lower calf.

“Ooh,” you breathed. “There’s definitely some stiffness there.”

“So the issue here isn’t really your ankle, as much as it’s your calf. When you walk, do you feel like you’re actively keeping yourself from rolling out?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Here, I’m gonna have you walk to that end of the room, and then walk back towards me.”

You did as Sam asked, and when you reached her again, she bent down to look at your ankle.

Steve quietly applauded you from behind her and mouthed the words “You can walk!”

You discreetly made a rude gesture at him, and he smothered a laugh from behind his hand.

Caught up in your exchange with Steve, you almost didn’t hear what Sam asked you next.

“Are you ticklish?”

You were briefly at a loss for words, before shaking your head.

“Nah,” you choked out, trying not to flinch as she felt the arch of your foot.

“Liar,” Steve called over to the both of you, causing Sam to laugh this time as you glared.

“Well, regardless, you aren’t flat footed, so it should just be a matter of strengthening that lower calf muscle.”

The rest of the appointment went smoothly and quickly, ending with your exercise homework for the week.

Afterwards, Steve and you were meeting with Eddie and Robin and Nancy at the Wheelers’ for a movie night in the basement.

“Well if it isn’t the maimed themself,” Eddie crooned from his spot on the armchair, his legs draped over the side.

“How’d it go?” Robin asked.

You shrugged. “Pretty good. I got homework.”

“Just when you think you’re done with school for the summer,” Nancy joked, passing you a soda as you took a seat in the floor, back propped against the couch so you were in front of Robin.

“What’s the movie of choice?” Steve asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn out of Eddie’s bowl.

“It’s a horror film about ghosts,” Robin responded, beginning to thread her fingers through your hair, something she knew very well made you melt.

“Well that would’ve been helpful earlier.”

You looked up at Steve, who was staring at you where you’d leaned into Robin’s touch.

“Whaddya mean?” You asked.

“Well, I tried tickling you to make you chill out, and that didn’t really work. But all Robin’s gotta do is play with your hair and you practically fall asleep.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Children, children,” Nancy interrupted. “Can we quit the fighting and get along?”

“But Y/N is blatantly lying!” Steve protested. “And it’s not the first time today!”

“What was the first time?” Eddie asked, genuinely curious.

“They said they weren’t to cklish.”

“Well we all know that’s not true,” Robin laughed, fluttering her fingers against your neck.

“Hehehehey! I was just trying to let the physical therapist do her job.” You scooched forward, away from Robin’s hands.

“But what is it El always says?” Steve said with a mischievous look. “Friends don’t lie.”

“It wasn’t a friend, it was a stranger!”

“Well, as long as we’re all in agreement that Y/N is quite possibly the most ticklish in our group.” Eddie stated nonchalantly, getting a chorus of agreement from the others.

“I am not!” You protested, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Wow. That makes the third lie today. You’re just asking for it aren’t ya?”

Robin was the first to pounce after she spoke, sliding down in the floor behind you to wrap you in a hug, your arms trapped in hers.

“WahahaHAHAHAIT!” You cried out as she began to blow against your neck, making you flinch.

“Are you gonna tell the truth?” Robin asked between breaths.

“Thahaht youhou all are jeheherks?”

“Alright that’s it,” Steve sighed, cracking his knuckles before kneeling beside you to squeeze at your knees.

“NAHAHA FAHAHAIR!”

“Come on, Pinocchio! Tell the truth!” Steve teased.

His pinching at your knees made you kick out and throw your head back. The ticklish shockwaves were overwhelming I’m comparison to Robin’s technique.

Eddie imitated a buzzer noise. “Time’s up! You get another tickle penalty.”

“NONONONO,” you called out, watching as he settled himself on your hips. You knew exactly where this was going.

You also knew exactly how to make it stop. Not that you wanted to.

Eddie slowly rolled up your shirt at the hem, resting it at your ribs. Then, slowly but surely he lowered his hands in two claws toward your stomach, making you thrash all the more.

And then his hands were vibrating into your stomach, and skittering across the skin like spiders, causing equal mix of cackles and giggles.

“Final chance, Y/N.” Nancy stood where she was earlier, arms crossed.

“SCREHEHEHEW YOU ALL!”

“Ooo wrong answer. You just earned the ultimate tickle penalty.” Nancy kneeled beside you, mouthing something to the guys you couldn’t see.

“You got her still, Robin?”

“Yeah, I got her. Go for it.”

Steve moved positions to kneel on your other side, and it suddenly dawned on you what they were about to do.

“Ohohokay ohohokay, mahahahaybe I am the most tihihicklish,” you admitted, closing your eyes as you felt the blush on your face grow.

“Oh we know,” Steve grinned.

“That’s what makes this so fun,” Eddie added.

Suddenly there were 6 hands sending you into ticklish bliss, drilling into your ribs, skittering over your lower stomach, vibrating into your middle.

You. Were. Dying.

You descended into silent laughter quickly, and they let up slowly.

“Youhouhou guys are the worst.” You felt the smile on your face saying otherwise, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Not yet,” Nancy smirked, before lowering her head quickly to blow a raspberry on your stomach.

“I GIHIHIVE!” You screeched, and the next second Nancy was smoothing your shirt back down as Robin rested your head in her lap, resuming paying with your hair.

“Aww poor Pinocchio is tired.” Eddie rolled off of you.

“Please don’t start calling me that,” you giggled.

“Well, it’s either that or Giggles.”

You groaned, leaning back sleepily with an amused smile.

Pinocchio would be lucky to have friends like these.

#lee!reader #ler!steve harrington #stranger things tickle #ticklish!reader #tickle fic #ler!eddie munson #ler!nancy #ler!robin

[totowlff]

chapter twelve — like susan and lucy

➝ with the pregnancy progressing healthily, cassie decides it's time to tell one of her most trusted people about the baby. unfortunately, she wasn't alone.

➝ word count: 4,8k

➝ warnings: none

10 WEEKS

Your womb is now about the size of an orange. You may find your clothes are tighter and your stomach may be sticking out, but this can be due to changes in your bowel activity rather than your pregnancy.

It was the perfect early summer day as Cassie drove down the M40 from Oxford to London. It seemed like there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, which felt like a rare treat for the UK. 

She’d felt a bit hesitant to go to London on one of the few weekends when Toto wouldn’t be at a race until the summer shutdown, but she felt like it was important to maintain her own schedule while she still could, before the latter stages of the pregnancy when she likely wouldn’t want to go anywhere, and before all of her time and energy would be devoted to caring for her child. The child she was having with Toto. 

“I don’t want to smother him”, Cassie thought to herself, shaking her head, like the physical action of doing so would reorder her scattered thoughts. “We’re not together, not really. But, it’s like all I want to do is spend time with him”.

In an effort to distract herself from the urge to drive over to Bedwells Heath and spend the weekend with Toto, probably talking about the things they needed to buy for the baby, she’d called her sister, Helena, to see if she could pay her a visit.

Plus, she hadn’t told Helena about the baby yet, and desperately wanted to tell someone, and Helena was all too happy to have her over.

— Jack is going to be gone all weekend, he’s going to Zurich on business. It’ll just be me and Tommy, and we definitely need to catch up.

Tommy was Cassie’s four-year old nephew, Icarus, but his parents addressed him by his middle name, Thomas, and usually called him Tommy. Helena had chosen his name in line with the family’s tradition of using names from classical literature, but after the boy was born, she and Jack had a long discussion about his nickname possibly being “Icky”, which might make the poor boy’s life difficult in school. 

“I’m not sure why they didn’t think of that beforehand”, Cassie remembered thinking, shortly after they’d decided on his name. 

As she drove past a field full of grazing sheep, her mind drifted back to two days ago, when she and Toto met for their regular chat over coffee at the factory. In Cassie’s case, she’d begrudgingly made the switch to non-caffeinated herbal tea.

It had been almost a month since Cassie found out that she was expecting, and she and Toto were the only people that knew — aside from Cassie’s doctor and the Mercedes board chairman Ola Källenius, who Toto couldn’t resist telling during one of Ola’s visits to Brackley because Toto was too excited to contain himself.

She was fit to burst with excitement and wanted to tell everyone she saw, but she felt like she needed to wait a bit longer because she was nervous about telling anyone. She knew it was normal to wait until the end of the first trimester for most women to disclose the news, but it was all Cassie wanted to talk about and it was taking a great deal of restraint to not say anything yet. 

“But if I say anything and something happens”, she thought. She felt like she would jinx it if she told someone too early.

— Are you okay? — Toto asked her, causing Cassie to snap out of her thoughts. He had been talking about his upcoming trip to Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, and Cassie must have let her mind wander again. It seemed to be happening quite a bit, but her doctor told her to expect some brain fog in the first trimester.

— Hm? Oh, yes, just thinking.

— What were you thinking about? — Toto asked. 

— Just about how I haven’t told anyone about, uh, the news yet. It’s almost all I can think about, but you’re the only one I can talk to about it.

— Ah, I feel the same way. It was hell at the race in Montreal last week, all of the reporters asking questions about Lewis beating Ayrton’s number of poles, but all I wanted to talk about was — he dropped his voice and leaned in a bit — The fact that I will be a father soon.

— I mean, at least you got to tell someone — Cassie teased. She’d been a little miffed when she found out that Toto had told the man who was, more or less, his boss, but she couldn’t be too upset about the gifts Ola had sent them — Who am I even going to tell? Victoria?

— No, but you could tell… Er, what about your aunt? What was her name — Toto combed his fingers nervously through his hair as he tried to remember — Uh, don’t tell me… Not Sylvia, right?

— Sybil? — Cassie said, incredulous. She laughed a little, and shook her head in disbelief — God, no. I love the woman dearly, she’s been more of a mother to me than my own mother, but the problem is that she’s an incorrigible gossip, and if she finds out, everyone in West Sussex will know, including my actual mother. But, I could tell my sister, I suppose. We’ve always been close, which I consider to be nothing short of a miracle. We were like Susan and Lucy growing up… You know, from the Chronicles of Narnia?

She noticed the way Toto’s facial expression turned confused.

— I… Actually haven’t read that book, I don’t think. I will take your word for it. You have a sister and a brother, right? — Toto asked, taking the last drink of his coffee. 

— Yes, that’s right. My brother is named Jason. We are… Not close, not really. He’s had… Um, the same mindset as my father, about, well, everything. The problem is that Jason’s wife is a lovely woman, and she likes me, and his three daughters, my nieces, adore me, which I think annoys him a bit, like he’s afraid I’ll corrupt them, or something — Cassie giggled.

— Family is certainly complicated — Toto said, nodding sagely. He glanced at his watch, and then said — I have to get back to my office, I have a meeting with… Someone, but I can’t remember who. I guess I’ll find out when I get upstairs.

He shrugged, and smiled as he stood up from his chair, offering Cassie his hand to help her stand up, despite her having no difficulty doing so on her own.

— But remind me to tell you about my mother and her sister, my aunt, sometime, you will probably relate — he added, before saying goodbye and going back to his office.

Cassie watched carefully for the exit for Great West Road she needed to take, as she always seemed to miss it because of traffic around Heathrow. Sometimes she didn’t notice she’d missed her exit until she crossed the Thames, meaning she’d gone too far south.

She made it to Pimlico without incident, and admired the seemingly endless rows of grand white townhouses that lined the streets. It was a gorgeous day. The sky was bright blue, and the smogs of summer hadn’t started yet. Cassie took her time walking to her sister’s building, taking it all in. It was a charming neighborhood, and she could see why her sister and her husband decided to settle here, but at the same time, she was happy that she and Toto didn’t live in London instead. Oxford was a large enough city for her tastes, and she liked being somewhere that wasn’t constantly congested with people.

She rang her sister’s doorbell when she arrived at the correct building, and a few moments later, the smiling face of a four year old boy appeared in the glass.

— Auntie! — the boy squealed, as he pulled the wooden door open. 

— Tommy! — Cassie said, kneeling down to give the boy a hug and a kiss — You’re getting so big!

A moment later, her sister appeared in the doorway.

— Cassie! — she said, pulling Cassie into a hug and giving Cassie a customary, but still fond, kiss on the cheek in greeting — So good of you to come. Come in, come in, I’ve made tea already.

Cassie took a moment to take her shoes off in the doorway, as listening as Tommy chattered away about how he had watched Lewis’ last race and how he told one of his friends at preschool about how his auntie worked with Lewis Hamilton. Cassie didn’t have the heart to tell him that she only worked with the drivers on rare occasions, as she didn’t travel to the races, but Lewis was kind enough and invested enough attention in the staff at both Brackley and Brixworth that didn’t travel to races that he’d given Cassie a few items he’d signed, specifically to give to her nephew, like a cap and a miniature replica helmet. 

Cassie followed her sister into the townhouse’s drawing room, where afternoon tea was set out. Cassie was relieved to see that her sister didn’t go to the trouble of using her nice china just for her. She was using a modest, everyday set, that was a shade of gray that matched perfectly with the townhome’s modern, monochrome decor. Her sister had set out some biscuits and the standard cucumber tea sandwiches. Cassie smiled as she sat down and watched her sister pour her son some milk with a small splash of tea, and offered her some. — Milk and two sugars, still?

— Ah… Yes — Cassie said, accepting the proffered cup. She didn’t start drinking it right away, opting to take a biscuit first. As she took a bit of it, Cassie took a moment to look at her sister and her nephew, wondering what sort of features her baby would get. 

Would she inherit the narrow, pointed nose that Cassie, her sister, and her nephew had gotten from Andromeda, or would she get Toto’s wider nose that crinkled when he smiled? Would she get the narrow jaw and almost pointed chin she got from her father, or Toto’s square, strong jawline? Cassie’s nephew got his father’s pale eyes, but Cassie and Toto both had dark eyes. But, Cassie thought, would they be shaped like his intense, hooded stare, or her eyes that were turned slightly upward at their corners? Would their baby inherit the warmth of his skin tone that tanned readily during the warmer months, or would she be pale and prone to freckles and sunburn like Cassie was? Would she get Cassie’s red hair? It was unlikely, Cassie had decided, since she’s not even sure what side of the family she inherited it from. Jason and Helena both had light blonde hair as children that grew out to a medium blonde, like Albert had before his hair went completely white at a relatively early age.

— So — Helena said, settling down in her chair and spreading her napkin out on her lap — What’s new with you? It’s been a while since we last talked. You must be busy with race season fully underway, but I’m sure you don’t want to talk about work on your day off. Any promising prospects lately, in the romance department? The last I heard about was the French restaurant man, what was his name again?

Cassie took a moment to think, remembering the disastrous date that started her on this odyssey to childbirth. So much had changed since then, but how could she explain it all to Helena? 

— Um… I actually don’t even remember the guy’s name — Cassie said, with a small giggle — That was the last date I went on, but he was a real treat. Did I tell you that he told me he expected me to quit my job? On the first date! I do confess to making a bit of a scene in the restaurant when I left, but I don’t regret it.

Helena laughed. 

— I’m sorry, Cass. I’m sure there’s someone good out there waiting for you.

— Well, it’s funny that you should mention that, because…

Cassie was interrupted by the sound of the townhouse’s doorbell ringing through to the sitting room they were in.

Helena’s brow wrinkled in confusion, as she looked at Cassie. 

— Mum, who’s that? — Tommy asked, looking up at his mother.

— I don’t know, Tommy. I wasn’t expecting anyone else today. Excuse me while I go check. Tommy, stay here and tell your auntie all about your riding lesson yesterday.

While Cassie never was swept up in the family’s passion for equestrian sports, Helena took to it immediately. She developed a passion for riding Dressage, and spent most of her time and energy on it growing up. Cassie knew enough about the sport to know that Helena had a passion and a natural gift for the sport that she herself was lacking. Helena cleaned up in competitions in her youth and continued competing into her teenage years and early adulthood. She competed at events all over the world and also competed on the first team — the most prestigious one — during all three of her years at Cambridge, telling Cassie that it was nice to have some “more relaxed events to do”. Just after graduating from college, Helena was named as a reserve rider for the Great Britain dressage squad for the London Olympics.

Cassie didn’t think she’d ever seen either of her parents so proud and happy, certainly not at anything Cassie had done. Helena intended to have another go at making the Olympic team properly for the 2016 games, but she’d gotten married and had a baby two years before then, and “temporarily retired” from competition. Now, she taught high-level riding lessons at an elite stable in Wimbledon, and made frequent trips down to West Sussex to help out at their father’s barn. 

Cassie only half-listened as Tommy talked about the pony he got to ride at his most recent lesson, a Palomino named Jammie Dodger, which was his favorite one of the barn’s lesson ponies, because Jammie Dodgers were his favorite biscuit. She was distracted, wondering what was taking her sister so long to return. She was growing a bit concerned.

— Stay here for a moment, Tom Tom. I’m going to see what’s keeping your mum — Cassie said as she took the napkin off of her lap and stood up. She heard snatches of hushed conversation between Helena and another woman coming from Helena’s foyer as she practically tiptoed down the hall.

— Um, I’m sorry, it’s just not a good time. I just wish you’d called first, I have…

— Well, I thought I’d surprise you. I had to be in London today for…

— I know, but…

— I just wanted to stop by and see…

She knew that other voice. She knew who had come by to visit, apparently unexpectedly, who Helena was talking to. Her blood ran cold in her stomach, making her feel nauseous. She was prone to nausea these days, but this kind of sick feeling had nothing to do with her pregnancy or the part of a tea biscuit she’d eaten, but everything to do with who was at the door. She wasn’t sure what to do. She could slink her way back into the sitting room and wait for her sister to see the uninvited guest away, stay in the hallway and continue trying to eavesdrop, or she could confront the visitor head-on, and let things happen as they may.

The choice was made for her, though, by an energetic four-year-old tearing down the hallway in a loud, thumping sprint. 

— Gran! — he yelled, catching sight of the woman in the foyer. 

— Tommy! — Andromeda squealed, kneeling down to give the boy a big hug. Cassie was relieved that Andromeda hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, but Tommy blew her cover — How is my little man?

— I’m good, gran! Auntie Cassie is here too! — the boy said, cheerfully. 

— Oh, is she? — Andromeda said, trying to sound pleasant, despite a distinct squeak in her voice.

Cassie silently cursed the boy, but her frustration was fleeting — he wasn’t aware of the fact that Cassie and the members of her family that weren’t her sister had such a volatile relationship, especially because the last big fallout Cassie and her parents had took place long before Tommy was even born.

Cassie took a moment to steel herself before rounding the corner into the foyer, trying to make sure the expression on her face looked as neutral-to-pleasant as possible.

— Hello, mother — she said, quietly.

Andromeda stood back up straight, and Cassie tried not to stare as she looked her mother up and down. It had been years since they’d been in the same room together, but she mostly looked the same as she remembered. Her dark, wavy hair was cut into an elegant bob and swept away from her face, exactly like she’d styled it for the entirety of Cassie’s life. Her jaw was set, and her thin, carefully-plucked eyebrows were raised. There were streaks of gray emerging at her temples that made her look even more imperious than she usually did. She was wearing a pressed navy blue cotton shift dress and a light gray blazer, with a pair of slingback kitten heels to match. 

She was wearing her wedding ring, and a matched set of simple platinum jewelry — a ring, necklace, and bracelet, all from Cartier, if Cassie had to guess, as that had long been Andromeda’s “everyday wear” jewelry of choice. On her thin, elegant wrist, Andromeda wore a vintage Cartier Tank watch that had belonged to Cassie’s grandmother that Andromeda had worn daily since she’d inherited it. 

Her nails were manicured to perfection and painted the same shade they’d always been — Essie’s “Ballet Slipper”, which she started wearing years ago because it was an apparent favorite of Queen Elizabeth’s. Cassie balled her hands into fists in a subconscious effort to hide her fingernails, which were currently unpolished and chewed on, as she hadn’t gotten them done in a while. She’d been a nail-biter since childhood, and it was a terrible habit she’d never been able to break.

— Cassandra — Andromeda said, her voice terse — It’s… Ah, good to see you. I hope you’re doing well, with… Whatever it is you’re doing.

— Helena didn’t tell me you were coming today — Cassie said, wondering if she sounded as nervous as she felt. She shot her sister a pleading glance that she hoped Andromeda wouldn’t pick up on.

— I didn’t — Helena started, but Andromeda cut her off.

— Well, it was an unplanned visit. I had to come do some errands on Oxford Street, and I had to pick up something for your father on Savile Row, so, I thought I’d stop by on my way back to see my daughter and grandson. I didn’t realize it would be a… Problem. Speaking of Oxford, is that where you are, still? — she said, leveling her icy gaze at Cassie.

— Yes. Still in Oxford, still working for Mercedes in Northants.

— And still single, I presume? — Andromeda asked, narrowing her eyes. Cassie felt a wave of annoyance ripple across the back of her scalp in pinpricks, but now it was her turn to be cut off as she opened her mouth to respond.

— This is a lovely catch-up — Helena said, abruptly — But I’d prefer we do this somewhere other than my foyer. Cassie and I were just sitting down to tea. Care to join us in the sitting room, mum?”

Andromeda seemed a bit disarmed by the offer, but acquiesced. 

— Right this way, then — Helena said, grasping her son’s hand and leading the two other women down the hallway in somewhat of an awkward procession.

Cassie sat back down in her chair and watched as her sister hurriedly set out another place setting for their mother. Helena, then, poured her mother’s tea, making it just the way Andromeda had always preferred it — no sugar, no milk.

— Thank you, my sunshine — Andromeda said to Helena — Now, I believe Cassandra was about to answer my question before we came and sat down.

— We don't have to talk about that — Helena said. Cassandra knew exactly what her younger sister was doing, because she had been doing it since they were teenagers. She was trying to be some sort of referee, a moderator, a buffer between Cassie and their mother. Cassie felt terrible about Helena likely feeling like she had to play this role, but she loved her sister for it.

— No, it’s okay, Helena. You asked as well, before mum arrived. And you’ll be pleased to know that there is someone.

— Really? — Andromeda said, raising her eyebrows — You found someone that can tolerate all of your little… Quirks? At your age, I’m surprised you hadn’t given up trying, I was expecting you to say you’d decided to follow in Sybil’s footsteps and dedicate your life to spinsterhood.

For a moment, it felt like all of the air had left the room. It would have been deadly quiet if not for Tommy noisily scraping his fork against his sandwich plate, trying to spear a piece of cucumber sandwich that Helena had cut up for him. 

Cassie could feel white-hot anger rising in her chest. She intentionally clenched her teeth together in a herculean effort to keep her mouth shut and not say the things she desperately wished to say. 

— Mother — Helena said, sternly. 

— What? She’s in her mid-thirties, it’s not like she’ll be able to have children or anything by now, even if she does find someone who can put up with her.

Without knowing it, Andromeda had tripped the detonator on what was left of Cassie’s restraint. She felt just like she did in that French restaurant with… What was his name? Paul? Peter? There was no reason to maintain any sort of politeness, not if her mother was going to speak to her that way. 

— Actually, mum, I was about to tell Helena the good news before you arrived, uninvited — she watched as Andromeda scowled — So, since you’re here, I suppose I’ll share with both of you at the same time. I am seeing someone, in fact, and just over a month ago, we found out that I’m pregnant.

The room filled with noise in an instant, as Cassie could hear the clatter of Andromeda’s teacup falling out of her hands and onto the tabletop in surprise, sending tea sloshing out of the cup and down the front of Andromeda’s dress. 

Helena gasped and shrieked with joy as she bolted out of her chair to embrace her sister. Even as she hugged Helena back, she didn’t take her eyes off of Andromeda, who looked crestfallen as she tried to blot the tea off of the front of her dress with her napkin. 

— I’m so happy for you — Helena said, pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek. 

— There’s a baby in your tummy? — her nephew asked — Is it a girl or a boy? I hope it’s a boy so I have someone else to play with other than Phoebe, Thalia, and Ariadne.

Cassie laughed at her nephew.

— No promises, Tom Tom, we don’t know yet.

Her sister released Cassie from her clumsy embrace and sat back down in her chair. 

— I had no idea, I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. Tell me everything, what’s his name? What does he do?

Cassie tried to think of how to explain it all. She was aware that “the CEO of my company and I have become close friends over the past few years, and entered into a co-parenting agreement with him being the sperm donor for an IVF conception that failed, so we conceived naturally after I had an emotional breakdown, and now I’m in love with him, but my feelings are not reciprocal, so I will spend the rest of my life breaking my own heart to be close to him and make him happy”, was a bit of a mouthful, as well as being difficult to explain.

— His name is To… um, Christian. He’s in finance, and we’ve known each other for a few years — Cassie said, trying to be as simple and vague as possible, while still answering at least one of her sister’s questions. She certainly wasn’t lying, until she said — He loves me, and I love him very much.

Andromeda appeared to be frozen in her seat, slack-jawed in horror as she watched Cassie stand up and pick her purse up from where it was hanging on the back of her chair. 

— Now, I’m going to head back home before it gets too late. Thank you for the invitation and the tea, it was so good to see you again. Come to Oxford soon, we’ll get together.

She hugged her sister goodbye, and gave Tommy an affectionate pinch to the cheek. 

— And you too, Tom Tom. Next time, I’ll bring you some of the new driver cards we have for this season.

— I’ll walk you out — Helena said. 

When they got to the door, Cassie turned to her sister.

— I’m sorry about throwing that grenade and leaving, and thank you for trying to moderate today. I had a lovely time, aside from the obvious. I’ll call you later and tell you everything — she promised, giving her sister a polite kiss on the cheek.

— It’s nothing. I know how things can be with you and mum. Drive safe, and congratulations, once more. Keep me up to date on your progress, and don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. 

When Cassie got back to her car and sat down in the drivers’ seat, she sighed deeply before turning the ignition over, the afternoon playing back in her head. She had intended to tell her sister, but certainly not like she had. She let her mind go blank as she navigated back to the M40, concentrating on trying not to miss her exits. Once she was back on the familiar highway, she felt herself starting to cry a little. 

She regretted that her relationship with her mother was such that she announced her pregnancy only to shock her, as a form of petty revenge for Andromeda’s snide comments about her age and relationship status. It was not the kind of relationship a mother and daughter should have — Andromeda should have been overjoyed to hear about the fact that another grandchild was on the way, but it was nothing Cassie wasn’t used to by now.

“At least I know my child will never have a conversation like that with me”, Cassie thought. She was sure of that. She was sure of the fact that she would love her child unconditionally, no matter what her interests were or what kind of life she chose to live when she was older. 

She was sad, too, about the fact that she lied about Toto to Andromeda and Helena. She loved him, there was no doubt about that, but she knew that Toto didn’t love her back. 

Growing up, her parents — her father, mostly — told her that she was difficult, that she was frustrating, that it was hard to love her. “Nobody likes a know-it-all”, was one of her father’s pet phrases with her. Maybe, without realizing it, she’d internalized that, and after her disastrous relationship with Callum, when he started telling her she was too outspoken or hard-headed, and that she was “too much”, she saw it as confirmation, and didn’t try to find anyone again for a long time after that ended. As she thought about it, she realized that, maybe if Toto didn’t love her back, he’d never see the parts of her that made her too difficult to love for anyone that had tried to before.

As her thoughts turned to Toto, she stopped crying. She called him, having her car’s stereo system dial his number without a second thought, almost as if it was a reflex. She thought about hanging up as she listened to the outgoing call ringing to his number, but he picked up before she could manage.

— Hi — he said. His voice sounded warm and fond — Are you still in London?

— No, just on my way back — Cassie said, trying to not smile so much that Toto could hear it in her voice — Just on the M40 now, about forty minutes out.

— How was it? Did you tell your sister the news?

— Well, my mother showed up…

— Oh no. So, you…

— So, yes, I told her the news. Both of them, at the same time.

Toto chuckled, which made Cassie smile. He had such a nice laugh.

— I’m sure that went well.

Cassie laughed.

— It went about as well as you'd expect.

— Well, I’m just making myself some dinner, if you haven’t eaten yet, I’d be happy to make some for you, if you want to come over and tell me all about it?

A warmth spread through Cassie’s chest, pushing out all of the tightness and sadness she was feeling just moments ago. She may have a lifetime ahead of breaking her own heart to make Toto happy, but these moments — where she could feel happy, too — were well worth the pain.

— I’d love to. I’ll be there soon.

#toto wolff #f1 x oc #formula 1 x oc #toto wolff x oc #formula one x oc #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #collab #wlffog

[rreskk]

Okay, I have this time in month so I had a creative streak and there's my fanfic ideas (maybe you'll like it 😄):

- Reader taking care of sick Trevor

- Reader giving Trevor massage (like back/shoulders/chest massage 😉)

- Reader and Trevor having a skincare time 😅

Send kisses 💋

A/N: Thank you for the list! I've done some ;)

In this fanfiction, I've included the following requests: -Reader giving Trevor as massage -Reader giving Trevor skincare.

Summary: He finally removed himself from the bed after a rough heist. The few days of caring for him was neglectful and undeserving... You felt shut out until one simple massage helped Trevor release his emotions... Through a good fuck.

Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

Word count: 2861

TW: -Smut

You were trying to work his static TV that hogged the useless space of his trailer home. As you were fiddling with the leads and plugging in random cords with some sort of hope, Trevor returned from his bedroom and was whining loudly.

“Fuckin’… Shoulder hurts.” He muffled when cracking a bottle of beer open. Shirtless as always, his body leaned against the kitchen counter as he continued to scowl at the pain. His eyes soon found yours and he twitched. “TV still not working?”

You shook your head, “What exactly happened to it?” Having the suspicion that he broke it while under the influence of anger.

Trevor gulped some beer and shrugged lazily. He shuffled closer and peeked down at the cables but before he could, his back cracked and he heavily groaned.

“Ohhh… Fuck. My whole back is killing me.”

He had recently done a heist that involved heavy armour and quite a distance of running. Trevor only just recovered from sleeping days straight so it’s no wonder that his back is playing up. You crotched your eyebrows and lowered your hands, slowly feeling his tense shoulder blades as Trevor would shiver at the contact. He tried to focus on the TV but feeling your nails graze across his naked back placed him in a… Needy mindset.

“You have huge knots in your back.” You raised concern before placing more pressure on his shoulder blades. Your palm pressed and kneaded the rough limbs. Trevor instantly jerked his head up and breathed out a shaky sigh.

“Ohhh, that feels good.”

Before he was hunched over, now he was kneeling on the floor, absolutely engaged in your physical touch. His knees dug into the tiles and he leaned against his hands, worshipping and praising your fingers that blessed his muscles to become bearable and easy. You found it a dramatic response but knowing the activities he had pushed his body through, you couldn’t even imagine the relief he’s feeling.

Besides, you were glad to find a cure for his grumpiness. After the heist, he hasn’t exactly been enjoyable to be around. Almost insolent and improper.

“That’s right, that’s it!-“ Trevor cried out when you were caressing and massaging near his spine. His whole frame shimmering and spazzing with delight. For a moment you’d think he was actually having a fit. The way he got into the zone and pushed against your fingers, it was quite erratic and abnormal… But it was Trevor, so what else did you expect? 

“I can’t massage any deeper when you are arched like a barrel.” You acknowledged, “Go in the bedroom and lie on your stomach. I’ll get some moisturiser for your skin as well.”

The affects of your touch made him shake and wobble. He flopped onto his small bed that was littered with cigarette buds, pornography magazines, used socks, and empty cans of alcohol. You followed his steps and made sure he was positioned currently.

Trevor grinned, resting his chin on a pillow as your hands centred him, “So are you a professional massager now?”

“I had my fair shares of muscle pains as well.”

“Oh yeah? What from?” He wondered.

Squirting moisturizer on your hands, you slowly pressed onto his skin and applied pressure. The sensation earned a rightful groan from the man underneath you. He nuzzled into the pillow and scrunched up his nose when you began tackling his knots. The dampness of the moisturizer made his back nice and smooth for you to process and massage.

“I can’t remember now.” You replied after a few minutes of silence.

Trevor felt your fingers prickle his shoulder blades and with one swift movement, he supressed into a pit of ecstasy. It felt like his muscles were being fondled as all the tension faded away. There wasn’t away to describe the climax he was feeling.

“Jesus Christ… What else can you do with em fingers, ay?” Speaking through troubled whines, his voice was muffled through the pillow.

You continued to rub in the moisture before working on his lower back. Your fingers gently grazed his skin. That’s when you noticed his skins conditions. Deeply examining the small scars and marks from whatever trouble he gets himself into, he left his back all rough and quite dark, especially since he lacks hygiene. When you pressed your palm against the small knots, his skin was hard and it made friction between you both.

“When was the last time you washed your back?”

Trevor’s shoulders tensed at the question.

“Don’t be lecturing me on showering. Not now, babe… I’m enjoying myself.”

You shook your head with a grin, “I’m just asking.”

In all respects, you were glad to hold a conversation with him, as mentioned before… He hasn’t exactly been in the right mood. Trevor, while sleeping most of time, had been neglectful of your affections and care. You knew he didn’t mean it, but you begin to wonder… Does he really deserve this massage?

“I can’t remember. I just let the water drip. I couldn’t give a shit.”

“Your back is really dense and dry,” You explained.

Trevor huffed in return. You felt the bed vibrate as he did.

“How’s your back feeling?” Deciding to change the subject, you leaned forward, pressing your full weight onto your hands which tipped the surface of his spine, cracking and tackling any remaining joints that caused him great pain.

He bit into his lip and enjoyed the physical contact, “Fuckin’ heaven.”

The compliment was just enough to make you proud. You reached the point where the massage was initially over. Trevor was slumped against the mattress with his ass perked up from the repeated pleasure of having his body massaged. His head was buried between the pillows.

“Okay, you are free now.” You alarmed.

He didn’t move.

“Trev, let’s go and fix the TV.” You tried.

Still no response.

“Trevor.”

His form jerked up and the lanky arms that belonged to his frame threw you onto the space beside him. The courage and force made you shriek as there was no way to predict his movements. Trevor was hovering over you with a cheesy smirk. His selfish hands rested just below your breasts while he adjusted himself to be sitting right on your crotch. The weight of his whole body made a great impact on your ability to push him away, failing every time.

He grinned, “I didn’t get to say my thank you.” His cheeks were warm and rosy. You could identify his mood from the way he was inclined in teasing you. Them cracked lips widened more as he felt you underneath his hips. He always turns into a big baby when horny.

“You could just say it.” You smiled.

His shoulders shrunk and his face moved closer to yours.

“But I don’t like saying thank you. I like showing you my appreciation.”

You sucked in your lips simultaneously while Trevor’s dirty nails browsed your skin from under your shirt. He fed every inch with his proximity.

“Besides, your hands…” He threw his head back with a loud laugh, “Your hands were beautiful. My God… The way you just roughly rubbed and kneaded me. I ain’t lettin’ you go any time soon, I wanna finish this with a bang.”

“I can’t care for you without turning you on, can’t I?” You riddled back.

Trevor’s eyebrows raised at the invitation for a good challenge. He smiled with his full sets of teeth.

“You can blame my mother for that, sugar.” His breath invading every ounce of your face as he spoke, “But let’s not… Go there.” His tone turning serious, “I wanna fuck you without thinking of my issues.”

“Always a way with words, aren’t you?” Your scoff made his eyes twitch.

“I have a better way with my lips, darlin’.”

The warning was subtle, but it wasn’t enough to prepare you. The seconds were increasingly fast before he dived into your neck and feasted upon the leftover skin like he hadn’t of touched you in decades. In the past week of his problematic grumpiness, you haven’t of fucked in a while. The night after his heist, he was bed struct and tired. He did grow horny but you suggested he rested… Causing an argument… And no sex.

“Trev…” You whispered.

The extra drool from his tongue dribbled down his neck and that was your breaking point. Normally you weren’t the first to break, but it seems as though this one drop of his saliva managed to prove you wrong.

The sudden burst of warmth in your stomach made you squirm which surprised Trevor as he found amusement in this reaction. In his eyes, you were fiddling with your shirt and sucking in your bright red cheeks. What made it obvious was the way you were cradling your legs together. You tried hard to apply pressure to your crotch before he forced your thighs apart. He made quick “tut tut tut” sounds from his tongue.

“Trevor-“ Your trousers were ripped down your thighs as he wasted no time. You grasped at his hair after noticing how hostile he was getting with your lap. There was no way to describe how rough he was getting… His fingers tangled with your pantie lines while his knee fully flunked forward, pressing against your groin, replacing the warmth you were trying to hide from him.

His tongue hung out of his wolfish mouth, a motion he does when he grows so uncontrollably aroused. Trevor’s eyes pierced your watery ones.

“You like that, huh?” His vocals enlarging with stimulation and odd submission. He was whingey, shouty, mouthy. There was no sight of dominance apart from his physical yearning for you. Even then, it was a sloppy gesture. Trevor wasn’t holding any commands over you, he was simply feeding his own passions by supressing your attempt at dominating the situation.

After all, he does love a bit of foreplay and power imbalance.

You just had to match this pining ache.

While the man handled your crotch with his clothed knee, you snatched his collar and forced him forward. Trevor gambled at this with a smirk. He resisted the clutch, instead, he kept on resisting. He watched you grow frustrated and cackled.

“What’s wrong?” He grinned.

You tried your best to pull him against the bed with you. His biceps bulged at the attempt to reject your forceful strength. Trying too hard and giving up, you were left panting.

Trevor tutted, “Oh no… Don’t run out of breath, I’m not done yet.”

“Come on! I gave you a massage, return my affections.” You pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

He smirked at your mocking looks, trying to find someway to tease you more. Trevor grinned as he began nibbling his bottom lip. He was obviously imagining some unholy things as for the way he’s looking at you with pure lust.

“That’s right, you did, didn’t you?” He cooed, “Why… How rude of me? I should be a great man and appreciate my lady…” His fingers bringing your panties down and around your thighs, “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby. I’m gonna make you feel amazing.”

Suddenly, he forced two fingers into your pussy and explored your wetness with a sneer. His teeth grinded with focus and the man fully pledged his efforts into fingering you. It made you whimper and gasp.

“Trevor…” You breathed.

“Don’t come just let.”

“Trevor, please.”

“Come on, baby.” He asked with glassy eyes, “You feel so good… God, I’m so fuckin’ horny.”

You gripped his wrist and stared at him, “Trevor, you better fuck me.”

He grinned.

“You are going to fuck me tonight.”

Trevor admired your demands as he gazed at you with adoration. The way your words spat out. He immediately caught your glare and felt his boner striked up a notch. Your anger made him so horny, it was sickening. He just wanted you to shout at him all the time, he fantasises about your fury almost daily.

So he carried on watching you with a pester.

“Trevor, don’t go silent on me.” You carried on while his fingers still dismounted in your clit. Something about the way you yell at him through your flustered state. It made him feel like a bad boy.

“I’m not going silent.” He smirked.

His fingers kept on pounding your pleasurable spot. Your throat grabbled out groans and he took his chances.

Trevor, without warning, threw off his pants and handled his erection roughly. The tip was shrieking for warmth and fluidity. You lied back knowing he was about to settle deep inside you.

“Don’t relax just yet, [y/n], I want your fire.” He remarked, “You had your time massaging and caring for me. Now I want you to screw me up, baby. I want to see blood.”

His penis replaced his fingers and you moaned when he approached your pussy, already bruising the walls with his devilish aggression.

Trevor likes how he can make you so angry that can watch you unleash stress while he’s fucking you senselessly. Always have, and always will. He’s a menace and he knows it. Sometimes he knows he doesn’t deserve your love, so the only exception for disrespect is in the bedroom. Trevor’s dirty mind finds pleasure when you treat him like a dirty dog, someone to tame, someone to slap around while his cock pathetically drools over your tits.

Mhm, that’s his rightful fantasy.

“No more nice guy, [y/n]. I deserve Hell. Give me Hell.”

You were struggling to form words as he thrusted harder every time.

“[y/n]-“ His voice wobbled.

Your fingers scorn his back when he leant forward to add more force. The moisture made him so soft and smooth… Your nails glided without making a mark. However, with the help of his violent hips, you yelped forward and roughened the once clean skin.

It was like your massage gave him the energy he lost for days and days.

“O-Ohhh…” Trevor wheezed at the scratches.

Your kitty claws nailed him harder as your hips were being torn apart by his combative drive. He was the Devil and you were trying to tear off his angel wings, proving his true colours… His true blood.

“Oh, fuck.” Mumbling against his forehead, Trevor fell into your arms like a little boy. He was puffing through the thrusts, completely sucked into your breasts that was visible from the sweaty shirt you wore, his nose snuggled in between, as if he deserved this company.

You hurled his head back, immodestly slapping his rosy cheeks in attempt of disciplining.

“Oh, mama-“ His tongue wretched and snivelled.

Being detached from your tits made Trevor go completely insane. He fastened his pace, staring at you with drool dripping from his mouth. His eyes asked for permission to return to your breasts, but he was greeted with a pleasurable glare. Biting his lip, he tried to argue back with broken moans.

You had to say no words for him to understand your authority and modesty over him. After all, you care for him like a kid, you massaged his back, cleaned his trailer, served him dinner… And you rarely get appreciation.

Trevor knows this and the thought gave him motivation to fuck you harder. His hands grasps at your waist with faint strength. He wiggled in and out of your soaked pussy as his breathing pitched. He needed to return your pleasure and acts of service or he fears you’ll never offer him your love again.

“Oh, yes…” You praised.

“Mhm, [y/n]-“

“Harder…”

“OH-“

“Oh my God!” Tears began forming in your eyes.

All the moisture from his back returned to your palms as blood circulated his shoulder blades. You felt your fingers be painted with red considering your nails only engraved him more at the power of his cock, that has been festering your clit for the time being, and reminding Trevor of his treachery and audacity.  

“Ma- Mama… Oh… [y/n], I’m so close.”

You flared your nostrils as he twitched inside you.

“Ohhhhh… Please, please, please!” Trevor cried out, begging you.

You kept on guiding his hips back against yours, rejecting his attempts to come. The pain was surreal and he felt like exploding.

“This ain’t fai- Ohhhh, fuck me… Shit, shit!” His moans pouring out of the watery mouth.

With distinctive motions, you moved your hands from his back to his jaw. A finger pressed against his pulse unnaturally and you held onto his face as he approached his climax.

“I FUCKIN’ LOVE YOU-“

Trevor’s final thrust must have triggered a reaction…

While he pulled out to cum all over your shirt, it seems that he intoxicated his moment of ecstasy onto you. You shared the orgasm with him, crying out unknowledgeable English. The problematic man above you felt the sincerity behind your climax since your hand fully wept, almost gripping his skin with pain. His cheeks squished at your fingers before he objected the contact, forcing your hands above your head.

Recovering from your orgasm was fast until he nibbled at your neck.

Oh the tease…

“Trevor…”

He lips rumbled against your jaw, “Round 2?”

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta v #trevor philips/reader #gta 5 #trevor philips x reader #trevor gta

[androgynousblackbox]

To every person that has ever suggested that "just give the kid into adoption" as a "solution" for unwanted pregnancies, I want to make you a deal: Gimme your body. Let me get inside. And I will get inside, but not when you expect it or planned for it. Don't worry, I will make sure to be the biggest inconvenience in your life I can be. Maybe I will make me entering your body a little bit traumatic, just as a treat. It will only be for nine months after all. Come on, it will be fun! Like a little nine month pajama party where I get to have all the fun and you vomit before craving pickles with whipped cream. I will kick your organs when you try to read, it will be hilarious. You can go wait for your turn to visit the doctor and pee in your seat because I kicked your bladder without any warning. I hope you are not especially attached to your hair and nails, pal, because I will be needing those nutrients for me. We don't want to be selfish now, do we? Oh, and your bone density is gone so don't be surprised if a teeth falls out. You have a good dentist anyway, don't you? Wigs aren't that expensive either. You will fine. You can say goodbye to any physical activity that ever gave you pleasure and your work too, if your boss refuses to pay your leave or rehire you after the nine month. Or they do that shitty thing where they hire you, but make it so horrible that you end up quitting anyway. But it's okay. I am sure you will find some way to pay the doctor, the bills and our food. You will figure out. Probably. Me? Don't be silly, I am inside your body, how could I pay for anything here? Supportive parents or family could be very useful here, do you have those at hand? Because if don't, oh boy, I don't want to be in your place. In your body I will fine though. I will get to make you don't fit any of the clothes you had before. That energy your had before, give it up, come on, you know I need it more. You are so lucky that everyone arounds you is so understanding and won't ever look down on you because you will need a break, and you don't know how long it will last. I hope you didn't pick any illness or infection or I don't die inside of you, because here's the thing: if that happens, I am taking you down with me. We are on this thing together, right to the end. It happens more frequently than you think. And then, after the nine month, I will come out, don't worry. A deal is a deal. I will come out through your genitalia, just like we agreed, and maybe rip it all the way to your asshole, just for fun. What is a little more blood between friends, am I right? But I heard doctors can do wonder about that nowadays, so you will probably be fine. Maybe, I don't know. You were the one who borrowed their body for this, not me. It will be the worst pain that you ever had in your life, I will make sure of that. Like a saw cutting you in half and then setting your nerves on fire. Even with all the drugs they could give you, and that if you manage to reach the hospital in time in the first place, you will notice I am there, making my way down town through the body you gave to me. It could take hours, or so I am told. Sometimes it even last days. Isn't that exciting? Maybe you will shit the bed a couple of times, and that is not nice, but I will forgive you because we are friends. You will still have to refrain from sex for a few weeks, maybe months even. You could develop some kind of permanent deficiency. Oh, I don't really garantee I will give you back the things I took, upsie daisy! You could even die from an infection or blood loss. But hey. It was only nine months. And I won't have to deal with whatever is left of you, so why should I care?

#andro is venting

[zyrafowe-sny]

Thanks for the tag, @grey-automa!

EDIT: I think @violet-prism-creatively also tagged me in this a very long time ago (had to do some digging in my Tumblr notifications).

were you named/named yourself after anyone?

My middle name is my maternal grandmother's first name. All of her children (my uncle included) had her first name as their middle name, and a good chunk of her grandkids do too.

when was the last time you cried?

A few months back when I was visiting a place I knew I wouldn't return to again in a while - I was a combination of extremely overheated, hormonal, frustrated with people with me, nostalgic, and overcome by the passage of time. I don't think I cry all that often, but enough happened to stack at once that it came out as tears.

do you have kids?

I have roommates who are significantly shorter and younger than me.

do you use sarcasm a lot?

Never ever

what's the first thing you notice about people?

This feels like a question Spencer Tracy asked Katharine Hepburn in Desk Set.

Uhh... rough relative height/age? whether they are trying to actively engage with me or are just going about their day?

what's your eye colour?

dark brown

any special talents?

I can read non-technical English with solid comprehension faster than most people I've encountered (back in high school, I could read the same short story twice in the time we were given in class to read it once, and I always need to wait for my partner to catch up when we're reading the same thing).

scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings, I guess? Not a big fan of scary movies.

where were you born?

about an hour from where my parents lived because they were paranoid and wanted a bigger hospital (my mom was considered old for a first-time mom at *gasp* 30 and they had trouble getting pregnant)

what are your hobbies?

I got back into writing fanfic after a long hiatus (thanks to Thanks to Them). I also sing in a community choir. There was a stretch when I was a little more outdoorsy (though never hardcore), but that's scaled back substantially.

have any pets?

Don't feel up for the responsibility right now. Maybe someday - my living situation is more pet friendly than it used to be - but I'm already drowning in home stuff and don't think a pet would help.

I did have a dog as a kid, but he passed away fairly young when I was in middle school.

what sport do you play/have you played?

I did marching band all through high school, if that counts. I like to ski but it's expensive and a 3-5 hour drive in reasonable weather. I don't ice skate nearly as much as I probably could/should (not sure where my skates are). My partner and I took some sea kayaking lessons once upon a time and I'd like to try that again, but it's not cheap and would be hard to fit in our schedules.

how tall are you?

5'7"

favourite subject at school?

That all depends so much on the teacher and exact class. I really enjoyed my high school physics/AP Physics teacher and even considered a major in physics/astro along with a social science major (am a hopeless generalist), but really didn't like my professors or classmates in college. (I have any regrets that I didn't push through because I like the notion of more women in STEM, but oh well.)

My favorite class as an undergrad was probably anthro of food - it had interesting readings and I got to interview people for a research paper (probably my favorite college assignment).

In grad school, I took a great class on human rights that's colored how I see many policy issues.

dream job?

I wish I knew.

I like: being useful, asking questions, figuring out answers to questions/analyzing things, figuring out how to best communicate answers to things, switching between more quantitative and qualitative work, being able to be just the right amount of stimulated between the work itself and/or any background media, being able to body double (I do well with cubicles/shared offices and less well when I'm in a room by myself), working more on deliverables than project/people management and presenting, and getting several-hour blocks when I'm allowed to just focus and only be interrupted by the most urgent fires.

I might have burned out badly in a past job when also going through some other personal stuff.

I'll be job hunting for the first time in a while probably inside the next year, and am dreading it.

no pressure tagging: @abstract-moth @thegrimshapeofyoursmile @enigma-the-mysterious/@sir-ballister-boldheart @childlikegoblinqueen @sercezgazety

And of course anyone else who wants to.

I turned off reblogs because some of this information approaches personally identifying, but feel free to copy-paste the questions into your own post!

#thanks for the tag!

[hongjoongscafe]

Stay with me

Bonus 2 {serieslist}

|In the sunset|

Pairing: hamsterhybrid!hongjoong×reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut.

Summary: she couldn't help but adopt the sweet and shy but stressed hybrid. Will he be able to open up?

Word count: 2.4k+

Note: this is the gift I was gonna post on the 4th or 5th but I couldn't wait🤭 this baby turned one on the 24th of August but I was busy with drabble week. I wanted to write something about beach related in the original story but it didn't fit anywhere so here it is. The pringles idea was by @cheline 😆. I'm probably never gonna stop updating this baby. I love it too much to not think about this. So yeah. If you are interested in bonus parts as well, lemme know I'll add you to the taglist.

Masterpost

ATEEZ masterlist

*Do NOT repost, plz*

"Joongie?" You looked for him at the beach where your mat was filled with snacks and some alcohol-free drinks. "Ah, I just left him for a minute, and he is already lost."

Huffing, you started collecting the finished wrappers from the mat that you both fest on right after getting there. As you picked the Pringles can, it felt a bit heavy. You shook it and a thumping sound came from it. Looking inside, you found Hongjoong in his hamster form in it. He was looking up at you with his wide hamster eyes. His tiny body was covered in crumbles. 

"Joongie! Why are you in this!? I almost threw you with the garbage!" You tossed him out in your hand and cleaned his tiny frame and set him under the towel so he could transform back and wear his clothes without flashing the little kids around. 

Hongjoong wore his swimming trunks and sat up straight on the mat. "I was trying to get to the last bits of the chips," he mumbled with a cute pout. 

You sighed and giggled, "you could have flipped it around on the paper plate and gotten to those."

Hongjoong's mouth gaped at the realization. "Oh." 

You laughed at his cuteness. Well, at least you got to see him in hamster form. Although it has been two years since he finally returned and got the job. He was more than comfortable being in his hamster form around people. He cared less and thought about himself and you more. Anybody could see the visible changes in him. 

Physically he was great. His muscles built up well along with his health. There was a natural glow on his face and the dark circles that once existed were nowhere to be found. He talked more and participated in activities. He even started practicing boxing with the help of Jungkook who was more than happy to help him out. Namjoon helped him in studies that he enrolled in after five months of getting a job. Hongjoong wanted to have a degree and do bigger things. He was enthusiastic about being successful after the drastic chapter of his life closed.

Mentally… He was recovering well but still had some issues to discuss with his therapist. He always had bad anxiety and nightmares all the time. It freaked you out and made you wonder how even is he working with all of that on his plate. So you talked about therapy to him. Although he was uncertain, he went to a couple of them, and then he felt like his pressure was being removed. As tired as he got after one of those, he felt like he was organizing his trauma and folding it. He kept those pieces with him deep inside his mind and placed the love and acceptance he now got above them. There were still times when you woke up in the middle of the night listening to him heaving for the air or sobbing or crying for help in his nightmares. There were years and years worth of trauma he was carrying; it doesn't go away in just a couple of years.  

"Anyway, shall we go, or do you wanna stay here for a while?" You asked as you finally collected all the garbage. 

"I think we should go for now. We will come back to watch the sunset," Hongjoong got up and helped you with the basket and the mat. It was nice and breezy. Seonghwa and Wooyoung selected a perfect place to get married. 

Yes, they both were getting married here at the beach. Wooyoung always loved going to the beach. They had many memories of the beach hanging on their walls back home. Well, their previous home. They bought a new house, much closer to yours. 

Both of them tried to look in the city for a new house but it never worked out. The peacefulness and love of the village were missing there. Hongjoong and you were there too. In the end, who would leave a loving family behind? 

"I still can't believe he asked me to be his best man," Wooyoung asked Hongjoong to be his best man right after they got engaged a year ago. Hongjoong was still thinking that he was joking. 

"Mm, well he loves you and thinks that you are his best friend. I don't see why he wouldn't. I think it's gonna be great!" You held his hand. 

Hongjoong chuckled, "remember Yunho's wedding?" He looked at you. "I fell in love with you that day."

You could never forget that day because that was the day when you realized that you were in love with him. And the author hopes you remember what happened in that part because that was the beginning of the new relationship. 

"How do I look, Joongie?" You shyly asked.

He took a moment. His cheeks turned into the deepest shade of red blush. He bit his lower lip.

"... Pretty, really, really pretty," he whispered while taking a step closer to her. He felt more comfortable after last night. Cuddling you made him more confident and more easy around you. That was another step of progress.

You were even more proud of him!

Hongjoong's compliment was all you needed. It made your heart flutter. Now, it was your turn to turn into the deepest shade of red blush.

Isn't this just wonderful? How it all started with a fearful hamster hybrid. Who couldn't even look at you in the eyes at first. But now... Oof. So perfect. Maybe the dreams you dreamt of are not so unapproachable. Just some patience and there is your happy hybrid.

"But look at you! So handsome! You should be illegal to roam around with that cute face of yours," you were practically drooling over him.

Hongjoong chuckled and said a little 'thank you'. He was so happy. Something he never thought he would never know how it feels. But now when he feels it, it's the best thing ever! There is nothing more exciting than having a family. A family who wants him appreciates him... Protects him. 'Whatever happened in the past was worth it. At least, I know the true value of a family and small happiness. At least I'm not like those other ungrateful kids who degrade their parents because they said no to buying the game they already have,' he thought. These thoughts brought tears to his eyes. He was happy…

"Hey, are you alright?" His visible teary eyes worried you.

Instead of answering, he smiled widely and hugged you tightly in his embrace. You were shocked at first but almost immediately melted in his warmth. The atmosphere around you two turned all pink. Many realizations hit at once. The main and the biggest one was that you are…

In love with your Joongie.

"Hug. Your hug that day made me realize that I am in love with you… The warmth, the belongingness, the scent, it all calmed me down. It was all I needed to know that I was in love with my Hamster Joong," you stopped and tip-toed to kiss him on the lips. His lips lingered for a few seconds there. 

"It was a perfect day," he whispered. The events of that day were vulnerable and hearty. 

"Indeed."

…

Seonghwa was standing at the altar, with teary eyes. His heart was beating fast and furiously. The amount of sweat his palms were creating might fill a pool for sure. You recalled his late-night rant about how he was feeling to get married in just a few hours now. 

"Y/n!!! I don't know how I am feeling!" The panic in Seonghwa's voice was quite prominent. 

"Seonghwa," your raspy voice from the other end reached his ears. You were sleeping peacefully in Hongjoong's arms when the God-forsaken ringtone rang, "it is going to be okay. Just go to sleep."

"How can I go to sleep!?" You removed the phone from your ear to save it from his shrill voice. 

"Like, I don't know? Close your eyes and yeah, that's all you need to sleep," you mumbled. 

"Y/n!" He exclaimed. 

"What?" You whined. 

"What if he changes his mind? What if my love is not enough?" The vulnerability in his voice made you worried. Even Hongjoong was wide awake and listening to the conversation. 

"Hey," you said while sitting up, "don't think like that. You guys are together for so long, even before you both met me. If this was to happen, he would have left long ago… I know it must be overwhelming but trust me, the moment you gonna see him, it will all fall in place."

Seonghwa's tears escaped as Wooyoung walked his way with a huge smile and teary eyes of his. They both looked into each other's eyes. Their drunken gaze didn't bother anyone. His rabbit ears were flapping happily on his head and you could see his bun of a tail wiggling in his slacks. 

The ceremony began and it was sealed with a heartwarming kiss. Your eyes were watery. It was emotional to watch two of your only best friends getting married to each other. They went through enough and this was the result of the love they grew along the way.

Everything fell in place, indeed. 

"Why is uncle Hammy crying?" Oh, did I forget to mention that Seonghwa and Wooyoung adopted two pretty bun babies? Well, yes they did. They were rescued two years ago. They found them in the worst condition by the street and they took them to the hybrid doctor who sent them to that same center where Wooyoung and Hongjoong were. The pair fell in love with little kids. A cute pair of a girl and a boy were looking too cute with the big ears that they were having trouble handling. They were four at that time and now they were six and adopted by the most deserving people. They officially became part of your family a year ago. 

"What?" You asked. 

"Why is Uncle Hammy crying?" Seori, the baby bun girl, asked. 

You looked at Hongjoong whose eyes were red and nose was dripping. You chuckled and wiped your tears, "it is because he is happy that your parents are finally together for life."

"Oh. But his nose is running. Nasty," she scrunched her cute nose. You silently laughed and poked her nose. 

Yechan, the baby bun boy, was looking at his parents with wide eyes as he tugged at his ears from giddiness. You took a few pictures of both of them. They were too cute. And you wonder how your kids will look—

Your eyes widened when you realized where your brain was headed. You looked at Hongjoong who was wiping his eyes. You weren't sure if he was ready for such a commitment. It is better if you hold your thoughts. 

…But little babies with cute ears and almost non-existent tails would be nice. Oky no! 

…

The after happenings went incredible. Everybody danced and sang. It was all nice and pretty. The sun started to set when Hongjoong pulled you out of the crowd and brought you to the beach. 

"Never want to miss this sunset," he sheepishly said. 

"Joongie! No. We can't be here. The reception is still going on," you reminded him.

"I know," he held your shoulders and looked deep into your eyes. "It won't bite if we are away for a minute. Just shh and be here with me both mentally and physically. Okay?" You nodded and stood there looking into his deep eyes.

Hongjoong stood beside you and looked at the setting sky. His features looked defined under the orange sunset. His silky blonde hair was ruffling from the ocean breeze. You could live like this forever. 

"I love how this feels," Hongjoong began. "Here being at the beach under the sunset with the person I love and trust the most," the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled when he stretched them. "You know, I never even dared to think about a life where I was happy and had someone on whom I could lean. I was way too lonely back then. I think," he took a deep breath, "I was only exposed to the wrong people that I never thought about good people ever in my life…" he looked at you with exposure in his eyes, "until I met you." He chuckled and shook his head, "I felt like it all was a drama and you were one of them too. I have said that many times already. I was scared to accept what I felt and refused my instincts," the tears rolled down his cheeks that made you teary. His shaky voice began again, "I was a fool to not enjoy those times when I ran away from you and hid away. I wanna go back and embrace all the moments we spent together. I can't though but I do embrace those today and will do tomorrow and until my last breath…"

You wiped his tears as he wiped yours. "Why are you saying this?" You whispered. 

"Because I want you to know that you matter more than anything in my life. I'm insecure when you are not with me. But I'm safe when your hands are in mine. I feel empty every day when I go to work. But then I feel complete when we get together in the evening and spend the nights cuddled up under the sheets. I feel like suffocating when I don't get to touch you. But my heart feels content when you are pressed against me… Your scent keeps me sane and pulls me back. And you, you make me fall more for you. I wake up surprised every morning when I realize that I love you more than yesterday… y/n," he moved in front of you and pulled a tiny box from his slacks and kneeled, "I wanna feel safe, complete, content, and fall more in love every day with you. I can't wait anymore and I wanna make you mine forever… y/n… will you be mine forever?"

You violently sobbed and fell on your knees and hugged him. His face nuzzled in your neck as he left sloppy kisses on your neck. You both were trembling in each other's arms. 

"Say something, please. You are making me nervous," he faced you. 

"Yes!" Your voice came out high-pitched. "Yes! Joongie, yes! Wanna be yours!" You gave your hand to him as he swiftly decorated your ring finger with an Emerald stone ring. "I love you so much, Joongie! Thank you for trusting me," you hugged him again tightly. 

Hongjoong held you tight and pecked your lips before tucking your face back in his neck, "I love you for life and beyond…"

.....

Sanaa's note:

Well, I hope you liked your gift💓 I am gonna update this whenever I have time. None of my other works makes me as happy as this makes me. I always appreciate your feedback!

The behavior of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @jhmylove @sansmilkbread @sungiesangel @untitled76543 @bbc-minji-oc @tenelkadjowrites @hongjoongtrasher @paralumanniluna @shiningstar-byulxx

@ryo-84 @yunhosleftpinky @damselindistressanu @khjcoo @bikiniholic @playboygeniusphilanthropist @hippohippo @hwachu @solarswonderland @gayliljoong

@giulianacelestino @yeosangsbiceps @lose-lose07 @nymeriaaa @yoonjikim

*lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist*

*original pictures are not mine, I just edited them*

Have a nice day/night💓

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong angst #ateez hongjoong imagines #ateez hongjoong fluff #ateez hongjoong smut #ateez hybrid #ateez imagines #ateez au #ateez kim hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong fic #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong angst #kim hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong fluff #ateez fic

[mistymark]

[09:21pm] req: dirty text in public with mark [M]

this was the longest dinner you'd ever been to. well, not really but it felt like it. when you told mark you wanted to take him out to dinner on his first day off in almost 3 months, you weren't exactly planning on his friends coming, too.

but here they were.

you'd spent the whole day with them, and you loved them so much, but it wasn't your fault you wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend, was it? especially you hadn't exactly been... physical with him, you could say.

for weeks, you'd been waiting for an opportunity to spend some alone time with him, but every time you managed to catch him alone he was on his way to another scheduled activity. and you knew it was taking a toll on him, too. he was exhausted, and he certainly needed a day off.

you looked at him from the other end of the table. he was sitting in a pair of loose fitting trackpants and plain black t-shirt, his hair sitting flat against his forehead. he was wearing his glasses in public for the first time in a while. and this outfit shouldn't be doing something to you... but it was.

you watched his hands as he dished some food into his bowl and began eating, nodding fervently at something taeyong had just said.

'y/n?' yuta grabbed your attention, and you were brought back into the conversation with he and johnny at your end of the table.

'hmm? oh, yeah,' you mumbled, taking a big bite of your food, trying to ignore the heat flooding your whole body as you watched your boyfriend.

johnny raised an eyebrow at yuta but didn't question you any further, instead changing the subject to their current project that they were working on together.

when mark licked a drop of soup of the end of his finger, you couldn't take it anymore. you grabbed your phone from your jacket pocket and sent a quick text to your boyfriend.

it took him less than five seconds to pull his phone out from his own pocket and read your message, and his eyes widened at the sight. immediately, his eyes met yours, darkening at the sight of you biting your lip to hide your smile. his mouth made a little 'o' shape, and he had to clear his throat before putting his phone down on the table next to his food.

satisfied, you turned back to your own food. but, when you looked up once more, you found him picking his phone up again to reread your message, his other hand moving under the table to his jacket, covering his lap as subtly as possible.

then, you received a response asking if you wanted to leave now. when you looked up from your phone, his eyes were practically burning into yours. his gaze drifted downwards then met your eyes once more. you smiled and nodded.

#nct dream #nct #nct fluff #nct imagines #mark smut #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #nct mark fluff #nct 127 #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct smut #nct dream mark #add to masterlist #;; requested!

[cheryyori]

moon knight fic idea that I had brewing in my head for 2 months but I can't push myself to write right now bc I'm having writer's block ofc

Might write them down as headcanons/bullet points to have them down before making this idea more concrete

fem!oc used for this fic idea btw! (can be read as a reader insert as well if you so choose as, but written this idea with an oc in mind), also lots of Japanese and other Asian mythology that I find would fit the story in mind, also I'm Asian so why tf not let me project a bit ok???

fic idea:

Imagine oc being able to see ghost and spirits (more specifically yokai and anything close to the sort) since childhood. Terrifying really.

Demon paralysis be damned when you open your eyes to see a literal shadow figure staring down at you. Panic attack ensue.

Oh yeah, did she mention the voice in her head guiding her on what to do with these spirits and how to handle them, yeah that's a thing too...

Apparently they're the goddess Izanami, overseer of the underworld Yomi. Fantastic.

She also mentions how more spirits are running amok and unchecked bc APPARENTLY THANOS' SNAP HAD FUCKED THE BALANCE OF LIFE AND DEATH. So I guess those that disappeared weren't actually dead but literally just ceased to exist and it threw Yomi is a disarray of chaos.

Basically the goddess was pissed. So now oc is their unwilling paranormal detective, being forced to faces these horrendous spirits so they can pass on. Fucking fantastic.

Also the Blip actually made it worse too. Great.

Apparently there's some consequences of being forced to help these spirits

They're not limited to out of body experience while taking the train home, usually with oc being in the place of the memory of the spirits that were either before or lead to their deaths. Awesome. More nightmare fuel for her ig.

While this happens to her mentally, physically her body will either be unconscious, spaced out, or even moving on its own unconsciously.

When she sleeps they become vivid nightmares she can't remember usually, only the terror she felt. Sometimes she'll find bruises and scratches on her and remember only bits of what happened. Night terrors. Check. Bodily harm. Check.

Works in the museum both Dane and Sersi works at too bc I can and pls Jeremy add some Dane/Steven/Marc interactions for season 2 pls I'm on my knees

Dane was said to make an appearance in Moon Knight originally but they didnt know how to add him so Dane is now in this fic bc idk what to do with this info now.

Dane and her are friends and friends only. He helped her get a job bc she's out of one bc she was Snapped.

Oh right she was snapped, forgot to mention that lol.

Yes she knows Sersi is an alien wizard. No she doesn't want to turn into a giraffe Dane.

If Dane is doing his Black Knight activities, 9 times out of 10 she doesn't know. She thinks he's distance himself bc of what happened to Sersi, and decided not to push.

Takes place a bit before the start of the series. She's Steven's neighbor but they dont talk much, only wave and greet each other on the lift and when they head to the same bus stop before she left to step onto the subway.

Goodness does Steven thinks she's adorable. A little better at social cues than he is but still as awkward. She a goober really.

She thinks he's cute too. Like a puppy.

Somehow they go on a date (personal headcanon that it was Jake that set Steven with a date bc he has the most social out all of them, which will make things real awkward for them when everyone finds out yikes). Well they try too. You know what happens on Steven's end but surpise suprise. She actually arrived late to the restaurant bc she had another out of body experience bc of some spirits she had encountered (thankfully it was in her home) by the time she arrived Steven wasn't there. It was hours later, she assumed that he thought she stood him up and left.

She ate the steak anyways. She was hungry.

She didn't dare to call or text him, afraid of what he'll say, so color her surprise when he called her instead.

What??? They have a date??? But it's Sunday. Confused, she decide to tell him that she thought he thought she stood him up. Both are confused. They decided to reschedule the date then, both hoping that this one goes well (tbh both were ecstatic that the other was giving them another chance).

Ofc that doesn't happen bc Harrow and his cult with Ammit ensue hijinks.

So Marc and her are complicated bc they used to be friends as kids but then her family moved to NY. They kept contract and talk but it became very minimal. Like simple how are you type shit. So they have no idea what the other looks like over the years.

So Marc is in for a big twist when he finds out Steven's date is her. It doesn't help he had a tiny itsy bit of a crush on her as kids.

But he doesn't have feelings for her he loves Layla still, right? It's probs bc of the fond memories he held of her as a child that makes him soft for her. No not bc she's kinda of a cute goof.

They're grump and sunshine embodied really.

Also embodies slow burn and friends to lovers trope real hard. Marc's gotta to learn to move on and live a happy life. It's hard but he'll get there.

He is emotionally constipated and will deny any possible thought of him having feelings for oc or any form of happiness.

Oc does not approve and annoys him with affection.

What the fuck was that????

A hug.

Disgusting. Do it again....

Nicknames. Nicknames! NICKNAMES!

Sunshine - Marc, Twinkle Toes - oc

Hc that Marc was kinda clumsy as a child and oc called him that to tease him (was more reinforced after they watched atla).

Steven call her his little sunflower.

Jake calls her his bébé usually.

And Layla.

They're divorced. They'll try to work it out but really Layla realizes that she fell out of love for a while now. The lies and guilt put a strain on their marriage.

That doesn't mean she doesn't care for Marc. She does. As friends.

She won't admit it but deep down, she thinks Marc was conflicted about his feelings whether he knew it or not (whether it was his guilt about her father or not, no one truly knowz). So seeing how he gets along with oc is good for him.

Layla slowly pushed him towards her bc she wants Marc to be happy as well and move on.

Layla is a good friend and wants everyone's best interests.

Now onto Jake.

Keeping in mind of the hc that it's Jake that asked oc out on a date on Steven's behalf. Well then things are gonna be messy. Bc haha they've met before. Like way before Marc met Khonshu and became his fist of vengence.

They met when she was in college and hit it off from there. I don't want to give away too much of their relationship but long story short. Jake does break contact with her.

So when everyone finds out about Jake things get awkward real fast and real bad.

Small hint of their relationship is ???? To lovers trope.

Khonshu is a manipulative bird brain and Izanami commit Khonshu hate crimes on the reg as she should.

Speaking of Izanami.

Goddess of Death and Creation. The overseer of Yomi, the underworld.

Yeah she's cool. Kinda unhinged but cool.

A bit over the top, but aren't all gods are???

Kinda gives off Scaramouche vibes from Genshin Impact but not as arrogant you know. She's not very well liked within the Japanese pantheon due to her role and also from her ex-husband's influences.

She really does care for oc. Thinks of her as her kin. She was a mother once too.

Speaking of her ex-husband, also commits hate crimes against her ex-husband Izanagi too (iykyk) and tbh go off queen.

Only oc sees her and she takes an appearance of a normal woman but dresses expensively. Thinking of Manwol from Hotel de Luna, same vibes as well tbh bc when I write Nami I think of Manwol tbh.

Oh possession is a thing too, ig

Bc with how oc acts, Izanami needs to take over when push comes to shove. Though this happens rarely.

Mostly this happens when oc is unconscious and in peril danger. Or when provoked enough to encite her fury or vise versa (usually the later is towards other gods of different pantheon, yeah she's still bitter they did nothing to restore balance in life and death). Sometimes when oc's spirit/consciousness is forcefully pushed out of their body, Izanami takes control to make sure the body is breathing.

Overall that's it for this word vomit. It's still in the process but if you want to know more lmk bc I haven't seen this idea in Moon knight fics just yet.

Fic idea inspiration taken from: Hotel de Luna (kdrama), Goblin (kdrama), Tomorrow (kdrama), The Uncanny Encounter (kdrama), Tale of the Nine Tailed (kdrama), Death Mark (game), Spirit Hunter NG (game), Mieruko-chan (manga)

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x oc #moon knight fanfic #moon knight headcanon #steven grant x reader #steven grant x oc #marc spector x oc #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley x oc #gonna call this au/fic idea nightmare eyes bc i can #yes i know its a nitw reference but it makes sense tbh #nightmare eyes au

[hedonicghosts]

I wouldn't say successful, but we are certainly managing the best we can. (College life, it can get stressful so we only have certain headmates who are able to handle the stress front.)

We're very fictive heavy so whenever a new introject gets here we make sure to remind them that, while it's perfectly normal to worry about source and to be attached to it at time, it's very important to live in the present. It's natural to hang onto to exomemories or to seek out sourcemates, but for all intents and purposes it's important to stay in the present. Find hobbies and other activities outside from source, since at times it can be harmful to be too attached to it.

We try to manage fronting as best as we can. It's mostly making sure which headmates have enough energy to do assignments and the like. We try to make sure that each headmate is able to front and do as they please while they keep up with assignments.

Although it's not entirely perfect. We're still working out the kinks. Just keep your head makes requests in mind and be as respectful as you can. Kindness goes a very long way, so be sure to express it to new and old headmates alike regardless of role.

That's about all I have. Feel free to dm us for more advice.

college life being stressful is so, so real… that's the main reason why we dropped out ;P good luck for you all in it, though!

the tip to live in the present for fictives is………… so difficult (i say, as a fictive) but it is a really good point too. it's nice to hold onto our exomemories and like… being able to say "i'm nocturnal you fuckwit, i'm going to sleep" is a fun excuse to not front, but we do need to have a better understanding of "but you are in a random human's body so you gotta take care of it normally" lol. also finding stuff that you might not do in your source is a good tip actually, and i'm… kinda shocked we never connected those dots? it's really easy to fit into the shitty mindset of "but character!me would NEVER do that so it'd be super weird if i did that" which is… very stupid (/lh) in hindsight.

managing fronting…. oh fuck……… what's that like? that must be nice lmfao. but genuinely, when we were still in college, it was somewhat easier to manage because we had specific alters essentially sign up for which class they'd be willing to sit. but, since we're a #delinquent and #unemployed now, it's more like… everyone for themselves, i guess. we've always wanted to have some degree of "routine" but like… managing that with so many assholes in one head is impossible (shout out to jonas trying to schedule everyone to front once a month back in high school… honorable of him ha). i think we also just sort of struggle with doing what we want when fronting and not what the body wants, if that makes sense? like, obviously, not all of us are artists, so we feel weird when a non-artist is fronting and being "forced" to draw bc the brain is making xyr, yknow?

and i mean, nothing we work out will ever be 100% perfect, that's kinda the nature of being disordered i guess lol, but we're sorta in a place right now where it's like… well, it's functional, but it's not ideal i guess. we've been trying to find ways to better our external communications with each other so we can make an actual physical… list? chart? forum? where we do let headmates make requests and then be able to respect them. but, as it is now, our communication is solely internal and, with amnesia, means it's dog shit.

aaaaanyway, sorry for rambling at each of your points. i really do appreciate the insight you gave us, and i'm going to pin this… somewhere in one of our resources for the gatekeepers to check out. if one of them has questions, they'll definitely take you up on the dm offer! (we suck at dm-ing though fair warning)

#✨ #coolcoolattas #not art #damn that post is long as fuck. post it

[alectoperdita]

i'm back with more questions!!! loooool also some nsfw haha

what does kaiba wear on a normal day off from his lawyer job

what is kaiba's erogenous zone (or was it mentioned in the fic and i just missed it 🤔)?

what makes kaiba aroused the most when it comes to jou?

does kaiba jack off in the shower (based on your random facts post) HAHAHAHA

how seriously mad would jou be if kaiba got kissed square on the lips by someone else and which character would it be? 👀👀

is jou still friends with yugi in this au?

Hello again! I always have a lot of fun answering these questions. Also very helpful in fleshing out the story/world further. 💜

what does kaiba wear on a normal day off from his lawyer job

A very tough question given that I suck at fashion and it's always hard to imagine Kaiba dressing as a normie. But I guess that's the answer. Outside of his suits, Kaiba dresses very normie in a yuppie kind of way. Business casual and kinda preppy? Turtlenecks are a must-have in any Kaiba's wardrobe, but they're mainly reserved for the colder months. So basically turtlenecks and cashmere sweaters in the winter, light linen shirts and neat slacks in the warmer months, his tees are solid colors and have no prints, and he has a decent amount of athletic wear for when he remembers/makes the time to exercise. He must have an old hoodie or sweatpants from his college days in the back of his closet as some of us do.

what is kaiba's erogenous zone (or was it mentioned in the fic and i just missed it 🤔)?

Hmmm I don't think I've drawn any attention to an especially erogenous zones. He likes it when Jou pays attention to his nipples. I think he would be weak to slow, wet kisses on the back of his neck. Nothing especially notable has stood out to me (yet).

what makes kaiba aroused the most when it comes to jou?

Not sure if this makes much sense, but Jou's physical strength? He's weak to Jou's beefy physique. Sometimes he really likes the idea of being held down or feeling hints of Jou's full strength. Even more often is when Jou actively doesn't use that strength against Kaiba because he's ready to let Kaiba lead (so I guess a willingness to submit to Kaiba). This Kaiba might be a bit of a brat. 😏

does kaiba jack off in the shower (based on your random facts post) HAHAHAHA

Hahah yes, that would be one good place. Especially if he wakes up with a hard-on and is running short on time.

how seriously mad would jou be if kaiba got kissed square on the lips by someone else and which character would it be? 👀👀

Oh man, for some reason, I feel like Mai would be brave enough to do that on purpose. Both to rile Jou up and unsettle Kaiba. Jou would definitely not like it (because no one but him should be kissing Kaiba, thanks!), but he wouldn't get too steaming mad at Mai?

It also feels like motives matter a lot in this situation. Because if someone is sexually harassing Kaiba, you can bet Jou will be ready to break a nose or two.

is jou still friends with yugi in this au?

Yugi has not come up in this fic so far. I've been musing on if he's there. Because as of chapter 4, Mai, Anzu, and Miho will have made appearances. There's no particular reason why Yugi couldn't be friends with this version of Jou (unlike Lure), just not sure where I want to necessarily fit him in.

LOL I had a thought while answering this. Would it be funny if I made Yugi the owner of the neighborhood sex toy shop?

#replies #nanoseven #fic: In bed with the mob #my wips #i've been thinking of trying to finish chapter 4 all week but work really laying me mentally flat ;;_;; #so thank you for more opportunities to think about my blorbos regardless #joukai asks