#(Also yes the mug was gifted to him by henry) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writeplace-wrongtime · 1 year ago

Text

Before the Bet

First of all, thank you to everyone who interacted with The Bet. Seeing reblogs, likes and comments literally made my week, I appreciate all of you!

It also boosted my motivation, so I'm back with a 5+1 prequel to the bet - It can be read standalone as well, but if you haven't read The Bet, check it out here!

This was meant to be like 2000 words max but here we are.

masterlist coming soon

Word Count: 5k~

CW// mentions of blood/fainting, stabbing, arrest, hospitals, mentions of child kidnapping/death, use of y/n, not beta'd

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 times reader and Hotch hid their relationship + 1 time they didn't need to

The BAU rarely had quiet days. Whenever they cropped up, it meant hours of catching up on paperwork and emails, and even more so it meant getting to goof around the office without the usual level of urgency. In short, quiet days were nice.

You had spent the morning sorting through all the files in, on, or around your desk, hoping to clear up some space for the files that would surely start piling up again in the coming weeks. Old case files were sorted into one file to be moved to the proper storage rooms, while newer files were sorted according to date and case number, until you had an oldest-newest pile to work through in the afternoon.

Occasionally on quiet days, Aaron would offer to buy everyone coffee, and Emily and Derek would fight over who got to go pick it up. Today, was not one of those days. JJ and Henry had brought little Henry in for a visit, and with them came fresh muffins and cakes from the bakery near their house. A little after noon, you decided it was the perfect time for a cheap office-coffee refill, and a quiet time to sneak an extra muffin back to your desk.

The kitchen was quiet, with most of the office either holding off until lunch, or already sorted after their coffee break a couple hours earlier. You had just topped up the instant coffee when the door creaked open. You didn’t look up until a hand ghosted your lower back, and the sleeve of Aaron’s suit reached your peripheral vision. He leaned against the countertop, somewhere between beside and behind you, and you turned to face him. There was a smile on his lips, but a crinkle on his forehead where he’d previously been frowning at paperwork.

‘Coffee?’ He just nodded as you reached past him to grab his usual “no.1 Dad” mug Spencer and JJ had bought him one Christmas as a gag gift. You filled the two mugs, enjoying the closeness you often missed out on during work hours.

‘Dinner,’ He spoke suddenly, catching your attention, ‘Us, we should get dinner.’

You had had many dates over the 2 months since your relationship with Aaron had started, but every time he directly asked you out, whether to dinner or a movie, he always seemed unsure of himself.

‘You asking me on a date, sir?’ You teased, leaning against the counter in a perfect mirror of his position. He laughed, a quiet breathy sound that sent butterflies to your stomach.

‘Trying to, yes.’ Your smile grew.

‘Dinner sounds lovely, Aaron,’ Your voice had become quieter, but no less audible to him as you leaned fractionally closer. ‘Jack was telling me about the restaurant you went to last week, the one that had the dinosaur colouring sheets?’

He nodded thoughtfully as you slid his coffee towards him. He took a sip, before leaving the mug back down on the counter. ‘They had a great selection of colours,’ He said with a fond smile. You loved hearing him speak about Jack; the obvious pride displayed across his face whenever his son came into the conversation.

You were just about to ask if he’d kept the coloured sheet when the door’s squeaky hinges creaked loudly, and you jumped apart. Emily stood at the door’s entrance, eyebrows raised at the scene before her. Aaron looked between you and her, moving another step back as subtly as he could.

‘Thanks, uh, that eyelash has been bothering me all morning!’ You blurted out, voice just slightly too loud. You brought your hand to your face, wiping at the phantom eyelash as if to remove it. With a little more distance now between you, you were able to steady your beating heart. When Aaron made no move to leave, you picked up your own coffee, added a touch of cold water, and made a beeline for the door. You rolled your eyes at Emily as you passed, pointedly not looking at the kissy face she made when Aaron had turned back to the sink. Emily moved further into the kitchen then, but Aaron was already heading for the door, eyes following you as you sat back down at your desk with a muffin he hadn't even seen you grab.

‘Hey Hotch?’ He paused at the door, turning to see Emily with his coffee mug in hand, holding it out as if to offer it to him, ‘You forget something?’ There was an obvious teasing lilt to her tone, but he chose to ignore it, hoping he would be back in his office before the scarlet tint reached his cheeks. He wasn’t. He opted to instead hide his face behind the rim of the mug, taking a sip of the hot coffee. With one last glance towards your desk, he disappeared back into his office, and if anyone noticed the door shut a little faster than normal, no one mentioned it.

The knock on his office door alerted Aaron to your early morning arrival. He was used to being the first to the office, especially when the cases were stacking up like they were now. Since your relationship had started 4 months ago, you had taken to bringing him coffee on such days. He appreciated it.

‘Morning, handsome.’ You had a sleepy smile on your face as you stepped into the office. In your hands you carried two coffee cups. While you hadn’t spent the night at Aaron’s apartment, you knew he would be up early and in the office at a ridiculous hour. Where there was work to be done, he was always nearby. His shoulders visibly relaxed as you placed the coffees in front of him.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ He sighed, an equally tired smile on his own face. The hands of his watch ticked loudly in the otherwise quiet office, and a quick glance showed it was nearly half seven. You weren’t due in until 9. Hands now free, you pulled a chair closer, settling into it before picking back up your own coffee. You reached out and plucked a file from the desk.

‘A problem shared is a problem halved!’ You argued when he raised his eyebrows at you. The usual accompanying frown was absent, so you knew he wasn’t really annoyed at the intrusion, nor the cheesy proverb.

‘Not when half of the problems are confidential.’ You rolled your eyes but conceded. The file was returned to the pile, and you moved to stand. ‘But the company would be appreciated.’

Your attempt to hide your smile was terrible. You blamed your tiredness. Aaron appreciated this time with you. Early enough that there was no worry about anyone seeing the fondness in his expression while you told him about your adventures in cooking the evening before, or the lovestruck smile on your face when he took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before returning to the file in front of him, fingers still intertwined with yours.

Well, no one except David Rossi. David who had come into work early to enjoy the peace of organising himself for the day before everyone else arrived. David who quietly closed his office door to allow you what little time together you could get at the office.

Weekends off were rare. So, when they came around, everyone celebrated. Team-bonding nights out had become more regular since Emily’s return from “death”. Friday nights before a weekend off were almost always spent together at a bar, club, or occasionally Rossi’s house for impromptu cooking lessons. Penelope and Emily often took turns trying to wing-man for you, and even JJ joined in after a couple drinks. Usually, you used the excuse of wanting to enjoy their company, but occasionally you called an early night to get a break from their incessant need to insert themselves into your sex-life. If you’d been single, you probably would’ve appreciated it. But you weren’t.

The previous night had been one of those early nights. Aaron hadn’t come out with everyone, insisting he needed to finish up some reports and to go on without him. As much as you’d enjoyed the few hours out with your team, you’d decided early in the night that once you’d had three drinks, you were going to go back to Aaron’s apartment and enjoy the rest of the evening with him. It wasn’t often that you had the apartment to yourselves on a Friday night, but Jessica had offered to have Jack for a sleepover. You wanted to make the most of it.

To wake up naturally, no blaring alarm clock or ringing phone, was a blessing. The room was lit by dim light behind closed curtains, and the only sounds were that of birds outside and the quiet snoring of Aaron behind you. His arm was draped over your waist, keeping you warm where his bare skin touched yours. Slow mornings were good mornings. You rolled in his arms until you were facing him, tracing the outline of his face with your eyes. He really was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. It was something you reminded him often.

‘Morning,’ His voice, though usually deep, was always deeper in the mornings, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes met his half-open ones, and you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. The only thing you loved more than spending the night with Aaron, was waking up to him the next morning. He chased your lips as you leaned back, swallowing your laugh as he caught them with his. Large hands encircled your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Swinging a leg over his waist, you manoeuvred yourself over him without breaking the kiss, earning a groan as you rolled your hips languidly down on his. His lips broke away from yours, only to reattach further down your neck, wandering hands moving up and under your pyjama top in their search for skin. You buried your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as his hips rose to meet yours. Moving one hand to the back of your neck, the other around your back, Aaron flipped you, positioning himself on top of you. He kept his weight off you with one arm, which lay next to your head while the other resumed its journey up your side towards your chest. He took a moment to look down at you, appreciating the view below him before he returned his lips to the expanse of untouched skin below your collarbone.

Your hands were half-way to tugging at his shirt when the loud ring of his phone broke you apart. Your eyes stayed closed, a sigh leaving you as he rolled over and off you to grab the device off the side table.

‘Hello?’ His voice was still breathy as he picked up the call, but you could tell instantly it was a work call as his voice became stern and serious. He was on the call for barely thirty seconds before you realised what a work call at 9am on a Saturday meant for you both. ‘Of course. I’ll be there soon.’

The disappointment at your ruined weekend plans was evident on your face. Aaron was already sitting up, stretching out sleep-sore muscles and trying to get the blood circulating back around his entire body. You opened your mouth to try and persuade him to lie back down, just for five more minutes, when your own phone rang. You didn’t need to see the caller ID to know it was Penelope, the unique ringtone she’d set for herself playing loud and clear.

‘Please god let this be a social call.’ There were nicer ways to answer the phone; you didn’t care to use one.

‘I hate being the bearer of bad news, but they found a body in Monogahela national forest, and its not looking pretty,’ Penelope said, an apologetic tone to her normally cheery voice, ‘But don’t worry my love, our resident Boy Genius promised to bring coffees and pastries for everyone.’

‘He’s really earning that genius title,’ You laughed, turning your head slightly to get a better view of Aaron, who was pulling dress pants out of the wardrobe and searching for a tie to match the shirt he’d already laid out at the foot of the bed. He held up two options when he saw you looking. It was very domestic, and you felt all the more disappointed that in one short hour, you’d be back to pretending you hadn’t spent the night - and start of the morning - between the sheets with him. Back to pretending that you weren’t planning to spend the weekend helping Jack bake cookies and cakes for his schools bake sale on Monday, and going for a run with Aaron before you tried to recreate one of Dave’s pasta recipes for dinner with Jack and Jessica. Back to pretending he was just your boss.

You looked away, trying to focus back on Penelope’s words as she explained the flight times and what you needed to add to your go bag. You were glad you’d put your spare overnight bag into the boot of Aarons car.

‘Fuck!’

Yours eyes widened at the sudden exclamation, head whipping back around to see Aaron holding his foot. You barely had time to deduce that he’d stubbed his toe before Penelope’s voice was screaming through the receiver at you.

‘OH MY GOD! Was that a man???’ You were at a loss for words, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. Thankfully, Penelope had no interest in waiting for your response. ‘I thought you went home early, you sly fox!’

‘Listen Pen, I have to go,’ You said quickly, ‘See you soon!’

You pulled the phone away from your ear, her threats of finding out all the details later cut off as you hung up. There was a moment of silence, before you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach tightly. Aaron’s laugh followed yours seconds later, both of you revelling in the ridiculousness of the situation. Seven months of secrets and it was nearly all revealed over a stubbed toe. By the time the laughter had subsided, Aaron had sat back down next to you. You leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his exposed collarbone.

‘You know she’s gonna quiz me about this the entire flight, right?’

Cases involving children were always hard. After a week of searching and profiling and praying, the team had identified and located the unsub. Five missing children over six months. The latest victim, a young girl kidnapped from the local fair, had been the missing piece of the puzzle that led you to the unsub, but the team had been too late, arriving in time to catch the unsub wrapping her body for disposal. The arrest had been horrible, but sitting with JJ while she informed the victim’s parents was even worse.

By the end of the day, you were completely and utterly drained. You wanted to be back in your own bed, in your own apartment, not in a stuffy hotel room overthinking every decision you had made. Those parents wanted their little girl back. You tried to push the thought from your mind. After nearly an hour in the vicious hell of your own company, you dragged yourself off the bed, and down the hallway to the room you knew Aaron had. You had never been more grateful for the increased hotel budget allowing the team individual rooms on this case.

He was quick to answer the door, still in his suit, though his tie hung undone around his neck. He looked roughly how you felt. His frown deepened when he saw you, standing with your arms around your torso, eyes red and puffy.

‘Come here,’ he said, already reaching out for you. No more words were needed as he wrapped you up in his embrace, holding you against him. The door swung shut behind you as he guided you further into the room. It was identical to yours, with a double bed in the centre, a small coffee machine and mug on the edge of a small desk, and a door leading into a small bathroom. Unlike yours, most of Aaron’s belongings had been packed away into his overnight bag, gun and badge sitting on top of the open bag.

‘I hate cases like this,’ you whispered into his neck, letting the repetitive motion of his hand rubbing your back soothe you.

‘I know, so do I.’

You stood together in the middle of the room for a long time before you pulled back. Not far enough to be out of Aaron’s arms, but enough that you could look at him. His brow was furrowed as he met your gaze, face all full of worry and exhaustion. You reached up, running your thumb along his brow to soften the expression, smoothing out the lines. He leaned into your touch. Catching your wrist in his hand, he peppered kisses along the inside of it, following the line all the way to your palm. It was methodical, kisses following the vein as far as they could.

You looped the fingers of your free hand into the loop of his tie, pulling him to you until your lips met his. The kiss wasn’t rushed, or hungry. It was soft and gentle, anchoring you to the present, and away from the past two days. When he pulled back, he let his forehead rest against yours, eyes still closed. It was the moment of calm you had been hoping for since you’d first arrived. It wouldn’t solve all your problems, or take away all the guilt you felt, but it could keep them from overwhelming you entirely. After a minute, you opened your eyes.

‘I really should head back, my bags not going to pack itself, and I do not want to be stuck here any longer than I have to be,’ you said, stepping out of his space with much difficulty. You wanted to stay, borrow his shirt to sleep in and worry about everything else tomorrow, but your flight was early, and you really didn’t want to be rushing to get packed before take-off.

‘I’ll be here if you need me,’ He voice was almost hoarse with how soft he spoke, pulling you back in for one last kiss. You turned then, and left the room, pulling the door shut behind you. You still felt horrible, but the heavy weight on your chest had eased off. That was all you could hope for tonight.

‘Isn’t that Hotch’s room?’ You froze like a deer in headlights outside the door as Spencer’s voice reached your ears. You turned to look at him over your shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t notice the panic-stricken expression on your face.

‘Uh, yeah,’ You forced out, ‘Yeah he uh- you see, my shower wasn’t working.’ Your brain felt fried, but the excuse wasn’t the worst you’d come up with over the previous nine months. ‘He let me us his. Shower.’ Spencer blinked at you, and for a frighteningly long minute, he said nothing.

‘That’s nice of him,’ He said finally, lips curling into a half-smile, ‘Hey, Emily, Derek and I were going to go down to the bar for a drink, if you want to come?’

‘Sounds great, Spence,’ You mirrored his smile, ‘I need to pack, so I’ll meet you down there?’ He nodded, and with that he disappeared down the hall, and you took a deep breath. You’d have to tell them eventually, but not tonight. Not tonight.

You wouldn’t realise until days later that your hair had been completely dry, you had no towels with you, and your excuse had been ridiculously transparent.

You knew it was a bad idea to sit next to Aaron on the flight back, but it had been a tough case, and you couldn’t help but yearn for his comfort. Even though it had been short, everyone seemed to be feeling it. With Derek passed out across the couch, and Emily and Spencer focused on their game of cards, there hadn’t been much stopping you gingerly leaning closer to the warmth radiating from the man next to you. He acknowledged your careful closeness by letting the free hand not occupied by the case report drop to rest on your knee under the table.

The coffee you’d made for yourself after boarding had only increased your adrenaline crash, and you could feel your eyelids drooping even as you fought to keep them open. It was a losing battle. The soft material of Aaron’s shirt made contact with your cheek as you leaned against his shoulder. The muscles beneath you tensed, but not enough to wake you from the sleep that had taken over quite rapidly.

Aaron glanced down at you before back up at the rest of the team. JJ was nowhere to be seen, probably in the small airplane kitchen, and the others seemed to be otherwise occupied. When he was sure no one was paying any attention to your little corner of the plane, he allowed himself to relax. It was a needed comfort after the weeks work. His thumb drew soft circles on your thigh, and for the first time all week, he closed the case file and his eyes. Just a minute of peace, that’s all he needed.

The minute ended rather abruptly when the hushed voices of Emily and JJ reached his ears. He stubbornly kept his eyes shut.

‘Think he’d let the rest of his drool on his shoulder like that?’ Emily’s voice was just about audible, the teasing grin on her face clear in his mind even without seeing it. He thought about waking you, pretending it was all just tiredness, and moving on like there weren’t four pairs of eyes on you both. But he couldn’t. Not when your body curved toward him, unaware of its unconscious betrayal. Your hair tickled where it brushed against his neck.

Instead, he opened his eyes slowly, giving the onlookers a chance to turn away. They didn’t need to know he’d heard them. He didn’t need to know they would be continuing this conversation shortly after the plane landed. Dave, who sat across the row from Aaron, hid his smirk with his coffee mug, returning his focus to his book. With one last soft look in your direction (which didn’t go unnoticed by Emily and Spencer), Aaron picked up the case file and got back to work.

‘Fuck.’ You were bent at the middle, hands on your knees for support as you tried to catch a breath. Derek and one of the uniformed officers were already hauling the unsub off towards a police cruiser. A second uniformed officer was searching the area for the weapon, which had been lost in the scuffle. You brushed off Emily’s concern, promising her you were just winded. Straightening up, you swallowed a wince as your hands ached to go to your stinging side. ‘Just, just need to sit for a minute.’

‘We’ll take care of everything here, why don’t you go with Reid, get checked out by the paramedics?’ You blinked rapidly as you tried to focus back on her words.

‘I’m okay, Em, really,’ Your chest felt like it was on fire with every breath you took, but you forced a reassuring smile. She didn’t look reassured. ‘Fine, mom, I’ll get checked when Reid’s done.’

Emily’s concerned look didn’t fade, but she nodded, and you turned back towards the line of black SUVs. Once she had moved off to help make a perimeter around the scene, you slowly walked back to them. Thankfully, the lights and sirens had since been switched off. You pulled yourself into the passenger seat, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt so much. You couldn’t be weak in front of your team. You’d gotten a shock, that’s all. You were fine.

A wave of tiredness crashed over you as soon as you sat down, leaning forward to balance yourself against the dash. You weren’t catching your breath, instead finding it harder and harder to fill your lungs. A few more minutes, that’s all you needed. You tried desperately to convince yourself the words were true, but as another breath burned its way down your trachea, panic started to set in. All too suddenly, your FBI vest felt too tight, your arms heavy as you tried to tear it off. With a lot of activity, you managed to get it loosened, but as soon as the pressure was released, your head started to spin rapidly. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to dispel the feeling, but within seconds, a darkness had swallowed you.

It could’ve been seconds, minutes, or hours before a sliver of consciousness crept back into your body. There was a noise to your left, and you dazedly tried to turn your head, but it wouldn’t move. You tried to focus on the window in front of you, but your vision was swimming. Feeling wobbly, you tried to push yourself up straighter, tried to turn and move, and then there was a warm hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently back against the seat.

‘Stay still.’ The words were commanding, but the voice was laced with worry. ‘The paramedics are almost here.’ And then, more distant as if the owner of the voice had moved away from you, he yelled, ‘Where are the medics?!’

You didn’t remember much after that, holding onto the voice as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Aaron remembered the whole journey too clearly. Guilt crept through him, worsening the longer it took to reach the hospital. He was sent to the waiting room while you were rushed into surgery. With an abundance of time, and a lack of answers, all he could do was replay the scene in his mind over and over and over again.

The arrest was meant to be easy. With no victims in the house, and no wives or kids in the picture to be used as hostages, it should’ve been easy to disarm the suspect and bring him into custody. Instead, he had let you just close enough to him to grab you and press a small knife against your side. You’d let your guard down when he’d given up so easily. You should’ve known better. It was a tense negotiation, the point of the blade piercing the material of your vest as JJ spoke to the man, Derek sneaking slowly behind him.

As soon as the unsub was fully distracted by JJ, Derek had moved in. Tackling the unsub to the ground had knocked you down with them, your head hitting the ground with a thump. The knife went skittering off as the man’s arm collided with the ground, but with Derek’s knee against his back and arms pressing down on his shoulders, he quickly lost the fight.

Aaron wanted to rush to you, to gather you in his arms and not let you go, but the captain of the police department had already turned his attention to the growing crowd of journalists and bystanders trying to get closer to get the full story. Emily had already gone to you, so with an unconscious scowl, Aaron turned and followed the captain towards the tape.

It wasn’t long before he was joined by JJ and Dave, as the trio attempted to subdue the now impatient journalists and horrified neighbours.

‘Hotch!’ Emily’s voice carried over the commotion to reach his ears. He turned to watch her as she weaved through the crowd of officers to reach him. Dave glanced at them, before redirecting the journalists in front of them onto another question, leaving Aaron the gap he needed to step back.

‘What’s wrong?’ He didn’t wait for her to come to a stop, the concerned look on her face clueing him into the fact something was amiss.

‘Its y/n.’ Aaron swore in that moment his heart stopped beating. ‘They promised they’d get checked out by the medics, but Reid said they haven’t been anywhere near the ambulances.’

A quick glance over his shoulder showed JJ and Dave gaining control of the mob, and he nodded to Emily, already striding away from the mass of bodies. She was quick to follow. Taking the lead, she headed back towards the SUVs, where she assumed you must’ve gone. She hadn’t seen you when she passed, but it had been a quick pass.

Aaron himself nearly missed your figure through the tinted windows, slumped down in the seat. His heart stopped for a second time that day.

‘Get a medic!’ It was his voice yelling out, but it sounded distant, even to his own ears. With the door flung open, he put his hand on your shoulder and shook. Your head lolled with the motion, but your eyes fought to open. You were alive. Feeling resistance under his fingers, he gently pushed you back against the seat, eyes scanning your figure trying to find the damage. ‘Stay still,’ He tried to keep his voice steady and calm, swallowing the lump in his throat as a trail of red caught his attention. The bottom of your vest was torn and a shaded darker than the rest, a small red trail leaking out from underneath onto your white shirt. Carefully manoeuvring you to a position where he had better access, he pressed down hard against the dark spot.

‘The paramedics are almost here.’ He couldn’t tell if you could still hear him, your eyelids fluttering rapidly. He leaned out of the car as far as he could without lessening the pressure, ‘Where are the medics?!’

He could see two people in high vis jackets approaching quickly, Emily leading the way. Two big bags and a stretcher was carried between the two, and it was only mere seconds before they were ushering him back and out of their way so they could assess the damage.

Whatever they decided, it wasn’t good. They removed your vest, and shirt, and by the amount of packing being shoved back into one of the bags, the bleeding wasn’t slowing. If he wasn’t so panicked, Aaron would’ve appreciated how efficiently they worked. It was only five minutes before you were being packed into the back of the ambulance. Dave had been left in charge at the scene, with instructions to come to the hospital as soon as everything was cleared at the scene and the precinct.

The paramedic in the back with Aaron – Thomas, as he’d introduced himself – busied himself with taking sets of vitals every 5 minutes, monitoring the pressure bandages around your abdomen, and ensuring the flow of oxygen was at a steady level. All the while, he tried to keep Aaron clued into what was happening for every step.

By the time they’d reached the hospital, you had a sickly pallor. You were rushed immediately into an emergency theatre. Once the doors closed in front of him, it took every ounce of strength to carry his body to the waiting room. He sat for what felt like days, before a nurse came to find him. In reality it had been an intensive two-hour surgery, and a thankfully uneventful recovery. On route to your room, he was given the news that everything had gone smoothly. Luck had been on your side, and the wound had missed everything important. It had only barely nicked a large vein, which had caused the large bleed, but had been easy to fix. It would be at least six weeks of desk duty, but you would recover.

Sitting at your bedside, Aaron gripped your hand in his, careful not to squeeze too hard. He was positive you’d hit him if you felt he was treating you as if you were fragile, but until you woke up, he would take that chance. With the adrenaline dropping and the relief flooding in, all he could do was hold on and not let go. After 40 minutes of watching for signs of you waking up, Aaron could feel his eyelids dropping. He didn’t try keep them open, instead shuffling the chair closer to the edge of the bed. You would be there when he woke, as he would be when you woke.

Which you did, just over an hour later. Aaron was still asleep, and you were careful not to wake him. If it took you getting stabbed to get him a few extra hours of sleep, you were making damn sure he got all he could. A nurse came into the room shortly after you woke, and Aaron slept through the check-up. It was your turn to watch him. Admiring the calm in his sleepy features, and gently squeezing the hand still clutching yours. The nurse had let you know he’d been there from the second he'd been allowed in the room. You didn’t need to hear the words. You knew he loved you.

‘You can see them now.’

It had been a longer wait for the rest of the team, who’d arrived shortly after Aaron had left the waiting room. Together they stood and followed the nurse down the hallway into a quieter section of the hospital. Through the open door, they could see you, attached to tubes and wires, but eyes open and sitting up. Next to you was Aaron. The spare visitors seat had been pulled as close to the bed as possible, and that’s where he sat. He was clearly asleep, given the closed eyes and steady breaths. He was leaned slightly towards you, head tilted down. With his sleeves rolled to his elbows, his tie loose around his neck, and his hair in disarray, he looked about as unkempt as the team had ever seen him. But he also looked calm. His usually furrowed brow was relaxed, and his lips forwent their usual downturn in exchange for a slightly parted straight line. Your thumb absentmindedly smoothed over the skin of his knuckles, and you smiled fondly at his sleeping figure. It was sickeningly obvious from your expression that you had so much love for him.

When you finally felt eyes on you, you looked up to see four eager faces greeting you just outside your door. The fond smile on your face only got fonder as they quietly piled into the room. The noise woke Aaron, who’s eyes immediately found yours. Pulling your joined hands up, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand, before straightening up in the seat. He didn’t drop your hand.

Surrounded by your family, you couldn’t help but think that really, you were going to be just fine.

~~~~~

taglist: @michasia24

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #y/n #bau team #5 + 1 fic #5+1 times

261 notes · View notes

amunyan · 2 months ago

Text

On Sunday evening, your bad mood began to improve. Yes, the mug hadn't been the best gift for Mereoleona. Maybe, just maybe, you should have listened to Yami. But you still had about a week to find something else.

And if necessary, you could just ask her out on Christmas Eve and spend some time together. Take a walk through the festively lit city. Go to the spa to unwind after all the hustle and bustle you tried to avoid on your list. Yes - just the two of you spending quality time together. Like you did today. Well, at least the last hour you and Mereo spent eating at your favourite restaurant.

You are really tired after this long and stressful day in your uninhabitable apartment and the latest information from your landlord. Cooking was not really an option for you, so you suggested going out to eat.

Mereo has accompanied you to your flat today. To get the rest of your stuff out and to talk to Henry, your landlord. He was still very sorry about the situation, but he had managed to rent some storage units for his tenants, where they could put their larger items until the water damage and the electricity thing was fixed. Although the damage was already greater than previously thought, the full extent was still not yet clear. It was also unclear how far the damp in the walls had secretly seeped into the individual flats...

So you and Mereoleona took a few boxes of your belongings. Just small, loose things that you didn't really need at the moment, but didn't want to leave in the flat either. Sometime between the holidays, you and your dad would get the bigger furniture. You also meet Vanessa and Finral there, who are also packing some of Vanessa's stuff into the storage room. She also has a little early Christmas present for you, although she thought you already knew what it was and would have seen you before the holidays. But she wanted to give it to you anyway.

Besides, Henry had said that as soon as the weather will get better, the damage would be repaired as quickly as possible. And so - all the stuff had to be removed from the flats anyway to make way for the renovation. Yeah, let's not put anything away - it's a shitty situation. But Henry is doing his best to solve the problems.

"The food was good," Mereoleona praises the food to the waitress after you have paid. Like a thank you for the day's help. "Now just a good shot of liqueur for the digestion and I am more than happy." A huge grin appears on her lips as she leans back in her chair. You, too, smile from ear to ear - just to see her so happy.

"Any of you?" The waitress looks at you, but you shake it off as you start to get up. "I'm fine. I don't need anything."

"Are you sure? You know they can make you something non-alcoholic."

The hostess nods and lists a few options, but you stay with it.

"No, don't worry. I just need to do one more thing before we go. Get your drink, okay?"

When you left the table to go to the toilet, you didn't take your bag or phone with you. Why would you do that? And while Mereoleona was getting her drink, a message arrives on your phone. Because it was on the table, she notices it vibrating.

In any other situation, this would not bother her. But she saw the sender's name on the screen: Yami.

She still sees him as some kind of threat. The way he and you spoke to each other. The intimacy between you... She just doesn't like him. So... She dares to look at your Lookscreen.

"Hey (Y/N), about that date you suggested the other day. Please..."

"Date? And she's the one who suggested it?" Her heart starts to beat faster. "She's my prey - not his. What are you doing, sweetheart?"

"Oh! Yami has thought about it."

Shocked and surprised, Mereoleona spins around, your phone still in her hands. But you don't mind, you just open the screen by putting your finger on the fingerprint sensor.

Now she can read the whole message from your friend. He just wanted to know the name of your favourite restaurant to make a reservation for Christmas Eve.

"Finally - he wants to ask Charlotte out on a date."

Mereoleona makes a sign of relive and leans her head against your arm.

"You can answer him if you want," you tell her.

"Better do it yourself," she hands you your phone. "I'd write him anything but the name of the restaurant."

"Don't tell me you're still jealous?"

In reply, Mereoleona sits up and crosses her arms. Her gaze wanders out of the window. It is still snowing outside.

"Come on - he is a friend I have known since childhood and he has a crush on Charlotte and besides; he is a man." You wrap a hand around her and plant a kiss on her head. "Dummy. You don't have to worry about him. No more than about Charmy or Vanessa. You are the only one for me."

She turns again and looks at you. Still a little uncertain.

"You can believe me, Mereo. I am not the type to lie to someone." Again you plant a kiss on her hair, before you get your jacket and bag, and the other bag with the early Christmas present from Vanessa; of course she made you a wrist band. But one in the striking colour Crimson Red.

You put it on and smile at her. She seems mollified. At least for now.

"All right, sweetheart. Let's go home."

#black clover #creative wrting #x reader #mereoleona vermillion #x fem!reader #advent calendar #mereoleona x reader #yami sukehiro

2 notes · View notes

duchessanon · 2 years ago

Text

SPARE - my review

What a ride it has been reading this book for 2 weeks. I added this to my goodreads and couldn’t rate it bc it’s so good but it’s also so bad!

Key themes!

- Key theme 1! Willy is truly Henris arch nemesis. He loves him and wants his approval constantly, but is also FREQUENTLY mad or disappointed with him. Honestly it would make a great novel or movie in itself to explore that relationship. Bc one minute he’s saying they aren’t that close and the next he’s directing the intro of the book to him. And guess what? I think willy should read it! I wonder if Henri has EVER said “willy u make me feel belittled”. I’m sure recollections would vary but I also have no doubt willy can be a dick!

- Key theme 2! Hero complex. Henri LOVES painting himself as the hero. Sticking up for a pauper in the supermarket who was being attacked by a Karen, rescuing Tom Van S after his mugging, comparing his war with the press with serving his country, recalling small children thanking him for invictus, and the interview where he wants to save the rf from themselves. It’s nauseating and unnecessary a lot of the time. The heart of gold narrative is really shoved down our throats.

Key theme 3! THE BRITISH PRESS. I mean what is there to say? His therapist said he’s addicted to raging against them and she’s right. This man will never be able to rest bc the press are going nowhere. Plus his rel with the press will always be different to the actual heirs and he doesn’t wanna see that.

- Key theme 4! Ghost Di. Well she was a leopard, an elephant, a lion, a cow. He could make most animals about her. He could relate most things to her even when his penis was oscillating. Rly was the least surprising part of the book was his fixation on Di. But it’s just there constantly. Which I guess gives us an insight into his head and dare I say a literary device?!

- Key theme 5! I’m not like the other girls. Even from pre Meg, Henri sets himself up as being different to the rest of the fam. And different often = more of a top, down to earth lads lad! Eg the story of wanting to water a tree not just plant it. A lot of his dickish behaviour is blamed on being a product of of his fam, but none on having an asshole personality. That’s ramped up post meg when he becomes enlightened to the real world. I can 100% see why the fam would be done with his shit

Random shit

- Thicko - he calls himself Prince Thicko a lot at the start of the book. I rly don’t remember any1 particularly calling him that name in the press but I find it hilarious

- If u wanna read it, skip the whole army and invictus parts. So boring and so detailed.

- k8 - if we were getting k8 tea I hoped for a FULL reveal of Bitch K8™️. Instead we got a lot of her and her facial expressions (there were several examples at least where he assumed something about k8s opinion bc of her face, or something she DIDNT do or say - eg her face at the lipgloss she didn’t respond when he made a comment about Lizs crown being trapped in the tower, she didn’t invite him around to dinner, she clutched the leather seat!). Tbh if anything IMO he kinda stans k8 & she comes off the best (og Wales fam) royal

- Henri is a very sensitive chap and sees everything as a slight towards him (facial expressions, cam making his room a closet, the list goes on). Obvi this comes from being the SPARE but it’s also like Henri bb, it’s not all about u. And maybe just maybe ur fam were bored of ur voice sometimes

- All the windsor women and wives (apart from Soph bc she’s not in it) are pretty iconic in this book if u ask me. And yes I’m including meg! We have Ghost Di popping up at every opportunity. Margaret gifting Henri a biro. Liz not giving a fuck about the drama and letting her men take the brunt of all Henris rage. Anne just breathing. Bitch k8 forcing Henri into a nazi costume and having facial expressions. Cam trying to spell Katherine with a K and selling her new sons to the devil press. Eugbea being a kindly blood princess. Fergie doing curtesy lessons! Queen mother Liz being the og royal bitch. And last but not least meg falling on the floor crying, being corny as fuck and simultaneously being a philanthropic queen and bullying manipulating witch (what is the truth?! We’ll never know!).

In conclusion I have sympathy for Henri bc this life has fucked him up and his fam don’t give a fuck about his opinions. He’s screaming to be heard and tbh it’s sad at times espec his relationship with willy (I can never call willy willy in the same way again!). But it’s also a totally navel gazing, self indulgent & lacking in accountability. The fact that he thinks his drug taking is revealing his bad ways isnt gonna fly. I wanna hear about his actual shitty actions and words and temper and entitlement. A must read for royal drama fans, I’ll be waiting for this part 2 when the rf inevitably keep treating him like a SPARE part.

#sparey spice

13 notes · View notes

tessherongraystairs · 3 years ago

Text

@tscauthorsnet Christmas event : Alec Lightwood (sue me, apple)

(Alec choosing gifts for the tmi gang and Max and Rafe :))

(Enjoy)

- Alec isn’t very big on gifts but when he does give gifts, he makes them meaningful.

- For Jace, well, because they’re parabatai, he gives Jace lots of spaghetti for his bath.

- He never let him live it down when clary told him about it.

- He also gave him a large box of stuffed ducks

- (A forbidden video footage in Magnus’s phone has one of the best warriors screaming and hiding behind his wife while Simon, Alec and Izzy cry from laughing so hard)

- In all seriousness, his actual gifts were something he thought hard about.

- Clary helped him out a bit. (So did Magnus with his knowledge on Herondales)

- Him and Magnus were visiting Tessa when he got ideas.

- Apparently, Tessa didn’t put away daggers that belonged to a certain Carstairs.

- She didn’t put away a few letters too.

- Letters sent from another Lightwood, at another time, to another love.

- “Magnus, there was another gay Lightwood-“ “darling, I know” “and yOU DIDNT TELL ME?!”

- Which is how he got the idea of carving a quote into a dagger.

- In the end, his actual gifts were a new dagger, carved with one of the things he says about Clary (thanks to their visit to Cirenworth), a book (signed by the author and first edition, courtesy of Tessa), and some quality hair gel.

- (Jace loved it. He hugged a very reluctant Alec. Magnus and Clary both have pictures)

- For Isabelle, it was really very simple.

- Every time he went out with Magnus and Izzy on one of their many shopping sprees, Izzy would gawk at a beautiful dress she saw.

- So really. Very simple.

- He also gave her a bracelet which is really just a weapon that’s concealed.

- Thanks to Magnus who was talking about Henry Fairchild and his genius inventions. And the inventions he would make for Charlotte.

- Alec thought Henry’s ideas were genius which was how his idea was formed.

- (Isabelle wears the bracelet daily and the dress for special parties and occasions. She loves it)

- For Clary, he was strolling around with his family then came across this Jem gem

- He loved it.

- But he did give her some art materials that he saw while shopping and a duck onesie in case her and Jace have a child.

- (Clary says she hates the mug but is seen drinking from it multiple times. She adores the onesie and uses the paint so much it runs out after about a week or two)

- For Simon, he really couldn’t care less.

- He is forced to give a present to him because Izzy threatened to cook for him and his family.

- He did give it a lot of thought tho.

- Since him and Simon bond over being archers, he decided to give him his old bow.

- Magnus suggested it since Alec wasn’t using it anymore and it was still in pretty good shape.

- (Simon would have hugged Alec on his own if he wasn’t so scared of him. Izzy forces him to)

- For Magnus, well, if you asked him he’d say he didn’t panic but spoiler alert he did.

- He got the idea while he was talking with Magnus.

- Magnus was telling him about his best memory with his family.

- Which is how Alec got his idea. But he needed some help. Tessa’s help.

- Well, he really just needed to ask Tessa about the bracelet she still wears.

- When he asked, he only received a smile. A bittersweet smile.

- “It was given to me by Will. He had Magnus himself enchant it for me. So yes, I think he would really love that gift. It would remind him of good times. I’ll help with it”

- He ended up giving Magnus a locket.

- Not just a locket. A magical locket. One that contains his favourite memory.

- And Magnus can put previous memorable memories and future ones too.

- He also gave him a shit ton of glitter that’s safe for clothes.

- (Both gifts earned him many kisses which would’ve sufficed for a Christmas gift in Alec’s opinion)

- For Max and Rafe, he decided to spoil his children with all the toys they want.

- He made them write a list of things they want.

- The man was struggling to find gifts okay?

- Him and Magnus got them everything in the list.

- (He got very happy kids excitedly opening their gifts. He was rewarded with hugs and big, toothy grins)

- Well, maybe Christmas and gifts aren’t so bad, thought Alec as he watched his family’s happy faces.

- I changed my mind they are, Alec thought while chasing a Max who got a knife and a Rafe with a whip.

- “ISABELLE AND JONATHON-“

44 notes · View notes

angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

Text

Superior Specimen - Epilogue

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy, Talk of car crashes, heroics, rough sex, use of safe words, Anal play, Hangovers, Vomiting, Workplace Disputes, Crying, Declarations of Love.

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Epilogue

The tent fabric moved in the strong wind, but thankfully Henry had not only driven the extra long tent pegs into the ground, he had also found a number of massive stones to tie additional guy-lines to. You stretched your limbs out as you heard the sound of the zip being pulled back you turned and smiled, seeing Henry climbing back into the tent with two travel-mugs of fresh coffee from the mess tent.

You unzipped the flyscreen layer and rolled to the side as he toed his boots off and climbed in, zipping the screen back but not the outer layer. He let out an exaggerated shudder as he handed you one of the flasks;

“Wasn’t expecting it to be this cold, it’s the middle of summer”

“We’re halfway up the Aoraki range, they don’t call them the Southern Alps for no reason”

“No wonder the fucking dinosaurs perished, they were thought to be at the end of the Cretaceous period”

“I’m not about to remind you of continental drift patterns and the shift in seasons before the Cenozoic period Dr Cavill”

“Fine, fine” he grumbled as he shrugged off his jacket and dived under the multiple layers of blankets and sleeping bags you had nestled down into.

You let out a shriek as a cold hand made contact with your naked skin, and the look of surprise on his face when he realised you weren’t wearing anything made up for it as the dark look of desire that followed was filled with promise;

“Well, this is a nice surprise”

Pulling off his hoodie he pulled you to his naked chest, your hands working on his combat trousers, trying to tug them down but whatever he had stuffed in his pocket wasn’t allowing you to stretch the fabric enough to get them down over his pert ass;

“Hen, what have you got in your pockets?”

He laid back and grinned;

“What you’re trying to say is; Is that something in your pocket or are you pleased to see me’? Both…”

Padding him down you found a large lump in his right pocket, squeezing your hand in and pulling out a small velvet box, eyeing his suspiciously;

“What are you up to?”

“Open it Princess…”

When you had rather flamboyantly quit your job at the museum, the following week Henry had surprised you with a pair of Amethyst earrings that matched the necklace he had given you on your very first date. In the months between the hot summer in London and the cold December dig in New Zealand the gifts had continued to come, but this was a surprise, it was only a week until Christmas.

You opened the box and let out a gasp; nestled within the dark velvet was a beautiful diamond ring, your gaze shooting from it to Henry and back again before he finally spoke;

“Will you Marry me?

He pulled the ring from the box and took hold of your hand, and it was only then that you could see his own were shaking, paused as he held the ring at the tip of your finger as he waited for an answer;

“Yes! Of course YES!”

Sliding the ring down your finger you watched as one massive hand engulfed both of your own, his other cupping the back of your neck, crashing his lips to yours in a joyous kiss, tears of happiness pouring down your cheeks.

When you finally pulled apart you were still both smiling, wiping tears from your cheeks before Henry grinned at you as he lay back;

“How about we see how that diamond sparkles when your fingers are wrapped around my dick?”

Matching his grin you tugged his trousers down and grasped him, admiring how your fingers and thumb couldn’t meet as your hand encircled Henry’s girth;

“Our last fuck of the dig, lets make it worthwhile?”

“Shall we do what we did on the Salisbury dig all those years ago?”

Newly engaged, the pair of you leisurely fucked, Henry gently making love to you as you gazed up into his eyes, and you wondered what surprises he would come up with for Christmas back in London the following week… a proposal would be hard to beat.

Ha! No, not the end, here, have a prequel!

Last Night On The Plain

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill smut #henry cavill au

221 notes · View notes

leossmoonn · 5 years ago

Text

Secret Santa [Spencer Reid]

masterlist

pairing - spencer reid x fem!reader

type - fluff

note - hey, guys! this was a request from @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto , enjoy! this imagine is filled with so much positivity lmao. i was in a mood when i wrote this.

summary - its christmas time at the BAU and Spencer has a suprise for you! (hhaa im so good at rhymes)

————

*pic isnt mine* (hes so cute ahaoahaihskahab)

“Spencer!” You sang as you skipped to his desk.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Y/n.”

“Great enthusiasm,” you teased.

Spencer stood up and rolled his eyes, pulling you into a kiss.

“Gag,” Emily muttered while passing you two.

You pulled away from the kiss and stuck your tongue at her in a childish manner. She did the same to you and then went to the break room.

“I thought you got off at work later?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, well, I am the number one employee this year, so I got to leave,” You smirked. You worked at a bakery downtown and usually didn’t get off until two hours later, but you had an advantage this year.

“Good job, babe!” Spencer smiled. “Thank you,” you smiled and pulled him in for another kiss.

You ran your hands through his long hair and pulled away.

“Hm, I love you,” you gushed.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile. Christmas time was the time you were able to be hyper and happy without anyone complaining and you took full advantage of that.

“Hey, Y/n!” JJ smiled.

You pulled away from Spencer’s grasp and went to hug JJ.

“Hey!” You exclaimed and pulled JJ in a tight embrace. “How’s my favorite mother?” You asked.

“Busy,” JJ laughed. “Are you bringing in Henry?” You asked.

“Yeah, Will’s supposed to soon.”

“Awesome! I got a few gifts for him,” you giggled.

JJ’s eyes widened, “A few? Why not one? Or none?”

You scoffed. “I’m his number one fan and is favorite aunt! Of course I’m gonna give him more than one gifts.”

“Um, no. I’m his favorite aunt,” Emily scoffed and walked over.

“Oh, yeah? What’d you give him?” You smirked.

“A toy truck, a stuffed hippo, and a pacifer cause I know how much he loves those. What did you get him?” Emily asked.

“Well, I got him a ‘Star Wars’ blanket, some superhero action figures, chocolate kisses, and also some pacifiers,” You stated proudly.

JJ scoffed. “Henry is going to be the most spoiled kid ever.”

“And that’s a great thing!” Emily smiled. You giggled with Emily as JJ sighed, obviously regretting telling anyone about her child.

Just then, Will came in with Henry.

“Hi, guys,” Will smiled. You all turned to see him carrying an excited Henry. Your hearted swelled as you saw the baby holding out his arms for his mom. JJ took him and walked to us.

“Hey, babe,” you said. “You are going to get so many gifts this year! And the next, and the next, and the next.”

“Can’t wait for that,” JJ sighed.

You smiled and then turned to your boyfriend, who looked uneasy.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, intertwining your hands with his.

He coughed and shrugged. “Nothing. Just tired.”

“You can’t be tired just yet! After Secret Santa I have a gift for you at home,” you winked.

Spencer’s face went red and the team snickered.

“And I am looking forward to that,” he smiled.

You smiled and then Rossi came up to you all.

“Ready for Secret Santa?” He asked.

You nodded and all left for the break room. All the presents were gathered on the table. Spencer and you sat on the couch. He put his arm around you and you leaned into his chest.

“Who’s going first?” Emily asked.

“I will!” Penelope smiled.

She grabbed her gift and handed it to Hotch.

He took it and unwrapped it, smiling. He held up a mug that said ‘Best Dad Boss Ever’.

“Thank you, Garcia,” he chuckled. “Of course,” she smiled.

“Okay, uh, I got Derek,” Hotch said. Derek opened his present and smiled.

He held up new. shoes.. Derek thanked Hotch.

Derek then gave his present to Penelope. He gave her a new eyeshadow kit that had vibrant colors. Penelope gave Rossi his gift, which was an art peice that was being auctioned off. Rossi gave his present to Emily, which was War and Peace in Arabic. Emily then gave JJ her present, which was a self care kit with bubble bath soap, face masks, leg scrubs, and candles. JJ then gave her present to you, which was a the first addition DVDs of your favorite show and a book guide to all the characters. You thanked her then it was your turn to give your gift, which was to Spencer.

“Okay, so, I know you have this book, but this is a first addition,” you smiled and handed him the wrapped present.

Spencer opened it excitedly and gasped when he saw it. It was the first additon of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

“Y/n! Thank you so much. I love it,” he smiled and kissed you sweetly.

You giggled. “You’re welcome,” you said as he pulled away.

“I... I have a present for you,” Spencer said.

You brows raised. “Oh?”

He nodded and smiled nervously. “C-close your eyes.”

You obeyed and waited anxiously. You heard people shuffling past you and Spencer’s jagged breathing was loud.

“Open,” he said.

You opened your eyes slowly. Your jaw dropped as you saw Spencer down on one knee with a small, black box. Everyone was standing behind him, taking videos.

“I know I’m not great with these things. I’m awkward and booksmart and have no idea about social cues. But I have noticed you mention marriage and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” Spencer spoke.

Your eyes filled with tears and threw yourself at him.

“Yes,” you said loud enough so everyone could hear.

Spencer cupped your face and crashed his lips onto yours. You started crying and laughing as he kissed you. Your arms wrapped around him tightly as everyone cheered. You pulled away, smiling widely.

“I love you,” you said, putting your forehead against him.

“I love you,” Spencer said, hugging you once more.

————

Like / Reblog !

starting a taglist. message me if you wanna be on it! :)

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #mgg #matthew gray gubler #imagines #imagine #love #x reader #2020

268 notes · View notes

queenofgotham800 · 5 years ago

Text

Anniversary

(Roman Sionis x Reader)

Requested by: @stardancerluv

Warnings: Gramatical Errors, Swearing, OOC Roman, OOC Victor

Summary: Roman and (Y/n) have their 5th anniversary and (Y/n) would want to spend it only with Roman in their apartment. Roman is used to give her tons of gifts and take her into expensive restaurants. But this time he calls Victor for help.

(A/n): Sorry it took me so long to write it, but here it is. Hope you will enjoy it 💜

Getting up from bed early morning wasn't your favourite thing. Today was a big day. It was yours and Romans 5th anniversary. Getting up from bed, you nearly tripped over a big gift packed in blue paper with little hearts all over it. Roman loved to give you expensive gifts, not just on anniversary but every day. And if you two had anniversary, or if it was valentine, birthday, christmas or any other festive day, Roman always nearly drowned you in gifts. Not just one... Many of them. On last anniversary he bought you car, dresses which matched with his suits, vacation in Paris and many more. You were always happy, but you weren't materialistic type so you always told Roman that he doesn't have to buy you such expensive things. He always explained that making you happy, makes him happy too.

You already packed few gifts for him, but you were sure that he has much much more gifts for you. Not like it was an competition, you wanted to enjoy this day with Roman and only Roman.

As you opened the gift with big bow, you found inside beautifull dresses your favourite collor and high heels shoes matching with them, which were packed in box next to those dresses.

You smiled, becouse Roman also left a note on them.

My dearest (Y/n),

I bought you these dresses on our special day, hope you like them. Please meet me in club, at the place we first met. I'll be waiting.

R.B.S.

You put your pajamas down, putting on fancy dress and shoes. After you dressed you went to have some breakfast in kitchen. Roman wasn't there but that was no surprise, he never ate breakfast, only if you made them for him.

He would never reject your delicious food.

On the counter was another gift, new mug with hearts in which was written in initals R+(Y/n). It was so cute that your heart nearly melted. The food was also prepared on it. That was probably Victor's job.

You took the dishes with mug and went to dining room.

"Hey, (Y/n)," Victor greeted you and sat next to you.

"Hey Vic, how are you?" you asked him, slowly sipping tea from new mug.

"I'm good, happy anniversary by the way," he smiled and pointed on the mug, "It's from Roman."

"Yeah thanks, this is so cute," you smiled at both, mug and Victor, "I just wish he... I don't know," you gasped.

"What's wrong (Y/n)," Victor watched your worried expresion.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful, but sometimes I wish he was romantic the other way," you said.

"How?" Victor asked, he was lost in these romantical things.

"Like...Something sweet, not big that would involve just the two of us," you said thinking, "I'm not saying that these gifts are not sweet. They are very sweet, but... You know what I have in mind."

"Yea-No..." Victor mumbled.

"Remember how he bought me tickets to concert?

"Yeah, it was nice," Victor smiled. He met somebody there, but didn't wanted to speak about it.

"But you know... Just for once. Tonight we will probably go to the best restaurant in Gotham," you smiled slowly collecting your dishes from table.

"And if I understand it, you don't want to go," Victor said.

"Well, it's not like I was ungrateful, but you are maybe right. I would like to spend the time with him here, watching movies together, cooking together, I don't know," you said.

"Yeah, I think I understood," Victor said, collecting his dishes.

"Okay, I have to go," you waved to Victor and left to club.

Roman was sitting on the couch you two first met years ago. He was wearing his best suit, smiling at you, like the first time he saw you. Little blush spread across your cheeks when you sat next to him.

"Hi babygirl, how you like these dresses," Roman smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"Roman, I love them, thank you! And thank you for the mug, it so cute," you hugged him and gave him a kiss.

"I have much, much more for you, don't worry," Roman laughed teasing you becouse he knew your oppinion on expensive gifts and you rolled eyes.

"Boss, I... Henry is here," Victor strolled across the club and tapped Roman at shoulder.

"Victor, I... We are celebrating something," Roman frowned on Victor.

"..." Victor was waiting on Roman, speechless.

"Honey, if it's so important I don't mind," you said and gave him kiss. You knew who was Henry, it was one of Romans bussines friends.

"Are you sure babe?" Roman asked and you nodded. Roman smiled and walked with Victor away to the main entry hall of club.

You stayed in club, looking at your phone in thoughts. This is probably going to take hours and hours.

Meanwhile in the entry hall, Victor and Roman exited the club, going to the stage doors back to apartment.

"Thanks for reminding Victor. I nearly forgot," Roman said opening the fridge and taking out of it food.

"She wasn't picking up the food in fr-"

"The fridge? No, I prepared it on the kitchen counter next to your mug," Victor said.

"Great, bring me the bag with projector and technical stuff," Roman said and closed the fridge, "And maybe some picnic basket for the food."

"On my way boss," Victor yelled and ran for these things.

Roman hoped that this idea, which Victor gave him few years back will go well. You were telling that he didn't had to be so generous towards you, that you are not materialistic person. But always when he gave you some gifts, he saw that your eyes sparkled and you were geniuenly happy. He loved seeing you happy.

You were waiting in club, used to these things. Roman had to have some important things to do, that was his work. It came in unexpected times and you completely respected that. He was so bussy that sometimes he just came home at midnight and laid next to you on bed exhausted. He always woke you up, it was not becouse he wanted but his steps were echoing through the whole apartment. When he came exhausted like that, you used to pull him closer to you and play with his hair untill he didn't fall asleep in your arms. He looked so innocent when he slept in your arms.

Your thoughts were interupted with familiar man walking around in club. Where was Roman if Henry was here?

You put your phone back to bag and headed to Henry.

"Henry, welcome in club," you smiled, like nothing was happening.

"Mrs. Sionis," Henry smiled.

"Oh, I already told you to call me (Y/n). Romans friends are also my friends," you were still smiling, "Speaking of Roman, didn't he had some meeting with you today?"

"No, no we met yesterday. Why are you asking?"

You took a deep breath, "Nevermind. Enjoy your time here Henry," smiling, you took a drink from passerby waitress and turned to leave. When you turned away from Henry, your smile fastly dropped and on your face appeared wicked smirk.

It was time for preparations.

"Victor we have to prepare it fast. I don't like the thought of my dearest (Y/n) waiting on me in the club while we should spend that time together," Roman mumbled, walking up to the roof of Black Mask club. Victor was right behind him, taking the basket with food, huge case with projector, candles, radio and blankets. Roman took four pillows and that was all.

"Yeah, yeah boss," Victor nodded, carefully putting the stuff down on roof.

After he put it down, from somewhere sounded the song Everybody loves me-One Republic. Victor lifted eyebrows, while Roman serached for his phone.

Victor smirked, turning his head away from Roman's sight, so he wouldn't see Victors quiet laugh.

After Roman finaly found his phone, he picked it up.

It was you, calling him.

"Hey honey, I have to do also some work, I hope you don't mind. I'll be back as soon as I can. When you finish your job, you know, that appointment with Henry, call me or something," you said.

"Yeah, It's okay babe, I'll wait. Love you," Roman told.

"Love you too honey," you said and cancelled the call.

You didn't knew that somewhere above you are Victor and Roman. They also had no idea that you are under the building, next to the car ready to go for Roman's gift.

You had few gifts for him. Tailor texted you that you can go to pick up the gift for Roman.

Driving through the Gotham City you saw many couples which held hands, hugged and kissed. Your mind was on Roman, what was he doing if he didn't talked with Henry? Maybe something in warehouse... He just didn't wanted to tell you that becouse of the anniversary. Yeah, probably.

"No, Victor you have to put it like this!" Roman yelled on Victor, who was putting the pillows around the blanket on roof.

"Well, you can do it boss. Just land me over that projector," Victor said. Roman was preparing the projector and screen, but he struggled with it more than Victor with decorating.

"Yeah, sure," Roman nodded and placed few candles around the blanket, "You know what Victor... I'm gonna go for another blanket."

"Sure boss," Victor mumbled and whistled as he slowly build pieces of screen together.

Parking in front of tailor shop, you made sure you had sunglasses and cap. You were sorta famous in city, mostly becouse of Roman. Paparazzi were all over the city and you didn't wanted drawing attention now. Roman made sure these people with cameras wouldn't be following you all the time, but there was still more and more of them.

You entered the shop and came to counter.

"Mrs. Sionis," older man greeted you and waved at you.

"Oh- I hoped this would sorta..." you pointed on cap and sunglasses. Surprised that he recognized you.

"I expected you," said the man confused.

"Oh, right," you laughed, "So, I am here becouse of that suit, is it finished?"

"Yes, I wrote it in the text."

Well, this was an uncomfrontable comunication. You cringed at your previous words, but decided to continue confidently.

"Yes, can I see it?"

"Sure, sure," he slowly went to the back of the shop.

You were anxiously tapping with feet, looking at the expensive watches that you got from Roman last year.

"It's here," he told, putting the suit on the counter. It was truly magnificent.

"I hope you got the size right," you mumbled, sliding your fingers across the velvet suit. It was Roman's favourite collor, he didn't had suit like this and he still talked about how much he wanted it.

Your second gift for him was waiting in the trunk of your car.

"Victor, I found five blankets and I couldn't pick just one so I brought them all," Roman came to rooftop, putting those blankets and ground, looking on Victor. Roman was surprised, Victor actually builded the projector and the screen in such short period of time.

"How did you managed to build it so fast?"

"I had a good teacher," Victor smirked.

"Are you talking about the mysterious person from the concert?"

"Maybe," Victor mumbled and looked around, "You know that you need to have computer to play those movies."

"Sure," Roman said and pointed at doors, "Go and get it mister technician."

Running to the car, you put the velvet suit in already prepared big gift box in the trunk, next to the second gift. After closing the trunk you looked on the phone and texted Roman.

Hey honey, I'm going home. Everything is alright in fact great. I can't wait to see you soon <3

-(Y/n). S.

How you sent this message, you drove back to club, parking your car on the usual spot.

Roman looked on his phone and opened your message. He loved to see your initials under it. He also wanted to buy you gloves with your initials. Roman still wants, but not now, he may save that for later. Maybe christmas...

He texted you back.

My dear (Y/n) I can't wait to see you. I'm dealing with something now, but I'll be done any minute. Can't wait to see you too <3

-R.B.S.

"Boss, I found only this one," Victor came and brought Roman's old laptop.

"Yeah, my old laptop," Roman looked on it, slowly blowing the dust away from it's surface, "I hope it will work."

"I'll try it," Victor took the laptop from Roman, trying the it on the projector. It worked!

You were already in club on the way to apartment, taking those gifts upstairs to the kitchen. Kitchen, since Roman refused to go anywhere near it when you weren't by his side.

"Fuck, these things are not working," Roman broke the last match on the match-box.

"Those never work, that's normal," Victor mumbled, "Wanna lit up candles? You have to use the flamethrower for that."

"What?" Roman turned to Victor with terrified look.

Victor laughed it off and Roman bursted it laugh too.

"On a second I really thought you did it," Roman said.

"Yeah, few times. Nearly lit up the fucking place," Victor laughed and Roman stopped.

"Do we have some matches?" he asked.

"Yeah, they should be in kitchen," Victor told.

"Okay, this time I have to go for them I guess... Freaking pyroman" Roman mumbled, walking to the stairs, watching how Victor couldn't stop laugh at his remark.

You hid the gift boxes under the kitchen counter and heard how is someone walking through the hallway.

Those were Roman's steps, you knew them very well.

Hopefully he's not comming into kitchen, you thought.

Roman was walking to kitchen, anxiously fixing his sleeves. What if (Y/n) was already here, Roman thought. He entered the kitchen to found out that he was right.

"Roman, hey honey, so... How was the job?" you asked, blocking the kitchen counter.

"(Y/n)... Hey babe, it's- well," he laughed and nodded.

"Yeah? I met Henry in club," you said carefully, "You know that whatever happened you can talk with me."

You were both so anxious, it was obvious.

"Yes, yes... Ehm... Have you seen here some matches?" Roman asked you.

"No," you said.

"Or a flamethrower?" Roman smirked.

"What? No, that's not in kitchen. Actually I heard that Victor has few at his apartment," you said. Victor lived right next to your and Roman's apartment for safety reasons, becouse he was Roman's right hand and also becouse he was a great friend.

"So it wasn't a joke... Heh..." Roman lifted eyebrows and left. You turned back to the kitchen counter to check the gifts, but you stopped when Roman's hands touched your hips. His chest was on your back and his head on your neck.

"I love you, (Y/n). After the bussines I want to spend the time with you," Roman whispered in your ear and you smiled, giving him kiss.

After Roman came back to the rooftop, candles were lit and Victor was playing with his knife.

"What? Victor? How?" Roman pointed at candles.

"Oh, I forgot that I had a lighter in pocket," Victor smirked and Roman rolled his eyes.

"She is here Victor what should I do?" Roman asked Victor.

"Well, invite her upstairs. I'll go to take care of the club," Victor said and patted Roman on shoulder.

"Thanks," Roman said. Victor smiled and walked away.

You were still standing in kitchen, thinking if the place under the kitchen counter was good hiding spot for gifts. After you heard Roman's familiar steps echoing through the apartment again, you decided to get to him first. Walking on hallway, you locked the kitchen and put the key in your bag.

"(Y/n), I would love if you would follow me," Roman said, cupping your cheeks.

"Alright" you smiled and followed him to the rooftop.

He opened doors and you smiled in surprise.

"Oh my... Roman, this is so sweet," you turned to him to kiss him.

The scenery was truly romantic. Few blankets on ground, candles around the place, pillows, picnic basket, projector ready to play some movies.

"I cancelled the dinner in restaurant. I hope you don't mind," Roman said. You hugged him, "No. I love this," you smiled and looked at the rooftop.

"You do?" Roman lifted eyebrows.

"Yes I do," you looked up to him and he smiled. You had those sparkles in eyes.

"Let's party then," Roman smiled and poured you wine into glass.

"Alright," you laughed as Roman spilled the wine at himself.

"That is not funny (Y/n)," Roman said, but laughed too. He couldn't resist your sweet laugh. You then got a genius idea.

"Wait here," you smiled and ran to the kitchen, taking your bag with key.

After you came back to roof with box, you found Roman trying to wipe the wine stain away from his suit with napkin.

"Honeey," you smiled, gently shaking with box. He looked up to you, throwing the napkin aside.

You sat next to him and Roman unpatiently unpacked the gift.

"Thank you my dear," Roman looked on his new velvet suit of his favourite collor, "I'm going to get changed, I'm back in second," Roman said, but then his eyes drifted to second gift.

"And what is this?" he asked with smile, taking the second gift out.

"I hope you will like it."

Roman opened the second gift and pulled out of it small model of Rolls royce.

"I love it," Roman leaned closer and gave you small kiss, "I'm gonna go to dress this beautifull suit."

After few hours of spending time with Roman, he asked you, "What do you want to watch?"

You said the name of your favorite movie which Roman also liked.

"Okay babe," Roman gave you kiss.

The movie was running and you leaned on his shoulder. You smiled when you felt his hand gently rubbing your back.

"I love you my dear. Happy anniversary," Roman whispered in your ear and you felt how he put something around your neck. It was beautifull golden necklace with rose.

"When I first saw this, it reminded me of you," Roman smiled. The necklace was truly beautifull.

"Thank you Roman," you smiled and kissed him, "I love you too. Happy anniversary."

#roman sionis #birds of prey #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis fanfiction #the black mask bop #roman sionis x oc #the black mask #roman sionis imagine #roman sionis x you #The black mask x Reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #ewan mcgregor

72 notes · View notes

mwolf0epsilon · 4 years ago

Note

Crazy idea that I figured right now. Thomas dosn't hear like someone that would get married, even with a person of his kind (g r u m p t y) so, Allison is a witch (cannon btw).. love potion? Sorry is pretty funny for me.

Summary: One of Allison's more peculiar interests turns out better than she expected, if only because of a slight mistake.

---

[[MORE]]

If questioned on the subject, Allison wouldn't exactly call herself a witch. She had an interest in witchcraft, sure, but she herself was not an expert nor a professional on the arts of ancient beldams and shamans.

She was, however, the owner of a vast and ever growing collection of tomes that were the aglommoration of such olden knowledge.

Of these powerful tomes came the biggest of her fixations: Potion brewing, more specifically the refinement of elixirs.

It was amazing what a few select ingredients could produce if you were to extract or prepare them in a certain way. From all natural remedies to combat the effects of illness, to powerful poisons and even blends that could condition the mind to do certain things.

It was an art that could be used to do as much good as it could do evil, and Allison knew a few select witches of the past had indeed done evil when others scorned them so. To the detriment of those that had been pure in their intentions, as were many of the victims of the Salem Witch Trials.

But Allison wasn't looking to do much with her knowledge besides sate her curiosity and test a few interesting blends. Most went into helping those around her anonymously...

A few drops in a cup of coffee and suddenly Jack's bad cough was gone. A whiff of her perfume, and Sammy was a lot calmer than he'd been a minute or so ago. Even a few delicious homemade cupcakes got everyone into a creative rut that kept Joey off their backs.

She was benevolent in her actions... But... There was one particular blend she wanted to try for more selfish reasons. A love potion of a sort, composed of natural aphrodisiacs and calming herbs.

One she hoped to try on the object of her affections, a man that had such an impeccable work ethic that she doubted he even knew she even existed (which was odd as most men often buzzed around her like bees to a flower, because of her attractive features). It frustrated her to no end that Thomas Connor was a difficult person to understand, or to get close to.

Her previous experiences with past boyfriends had always been quite linear, so the mysterious engineer being so hard to read was baffling. No man nor any woman should be a puzzle so hard to figure out, and her lack of progress on this matter only made her feel more attracted towards him.

So here she was, trying to find Mr. Connor's coffee mug, ready to slip him an all natural drug that would definitely turn his gaze towards her... You know, like some degenerate wench...

"Oh you've sunk low Al... You've sunk very low." She murmured to herself as she looked through the shared cupboard. There was a myriad of different mugs that were unique so as to distinguish them from someone else's property. A lot of people in the studio were against sharing their cups after all, thus this fun little measure that definitely wasn't making it hard for her right now.

She knew the mug with brightly colored polkadots was Norman's, as it was a silly play on his last name (one Mel had started as a means to poke fun at him). She also knew the white one with intricate depictions of songbirds and forget-me-nots was Sammy's (a gift to him from his sister apparently), and that the bright green one with stocky writing on it was Shawn's (Mr. Flynn was, after all, fond of yelling 'Top o' the Morning to ya' to everyone at the earliest hours of the morning).

But, for the life of her, she couldn't find a mug that she thought might fit Thomas's personality at all... They were all varying degrees of either pretty or silly and none really screamed his name. Not until she squinted and found one that was bland enough to be a no-nonsense GENT employee's pick.

A simple black mug with absolutely nothing extraordinary about it, sitting besides a white mug with paw prints on it (likely Wally's as he had a fondness for dogs).

Taking that bland old mug, she proceeded with her plan.

By 9 AM sharp, Allison was a bundle of nerves. She'd prepared Thomas's coffee separately before making everyone else their own mugs to avoid suspicion. Then she'd set out a plate of cupcakes (some vanilla, some chocolate) to make it seem like an innocent little gesture rather than the shameful and depraved act that it actually was, and greeted everyone on her way out of the break room.

Morale was great that morning, but so was her increasing guilt... She shouldn't be meddling with what others felt, especially not trying to bewitch her crush into liking her for a brief moment. Yet here she was, hoping to bump into a drugged up Thomas Connor and get him to praise her in some form.

Her need for validation was... Rotten. She hated it, she hated that she'd gone to these lengths just to feel like someone genuinely cared for her rather than her good looks.

So when she did find her crush at last, she didn't feel so good about the plan anymore.

"Allison could I maybe speak to you for a second?" The gruff voice of Thomas Connor wasn't particularly loud, at least not louder than many of the other employees in the music department, so she jumped slightly when he approached her quietly during her break from recording.

"I... Yes certainly." Her stomach felt like it was doing flips as she followed the taller man, considering her options here. She could lightly reject any advances he tried to make in his state of unknowing inebriation, admit she may have slipped something in his coffee, or even straight up lie and say there was weed in the cupcakes... But, instead of doing anything, she resigned herself to the fact the next words out of his mouth weren't going to be genuine.

"I wanted to thank you." Thomas began as they'd gotten out into a quieter hall with little to no movement. "For always trying to brighten things up a little here at the studio. Drew's been a right pain in the ass, and it really sets off a chain... But here you are, getting up bright and early to bake cupcakes and brew everyone a cup of coffee, being the most genuine and selfless person at this damn madhouse..."

The guilt was excruciating, and Allison felt herself blush slightly as her eyes began to sting. He likely thought it was humility on her part.

"Hey, no need for that. Just stating the facts Miss Pendle..." He smiled, really smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Thomas Connor had this shy little smile that started at the corner of his mouth and just barely exposed his front teeth a bit. "I was wondering... If maybe I could pay you back. With uh... With lunch?"

"I..."

"I understand if you're busy, it's just... I'd just like to be able to repay your kindness in kind. Lunch for an impromptu breakfast seems fair... And it's well within our schedules I hope..." He added. She couldn't bring herself to decline even if she knew she should.

"It... It sounds good to me. Uh... Wednesday?" She shyly suggested.

"Wednesday." He nodded in agreement. "Best we both go back to work now, before Lawrence has a fit..."

"Yeah... Thank you Thomas." She smiled sadly, watching him as he nodded her way. Her smile vanished once she noticed him bring a mug up to his lips. A white mug with paw prints on it.

Once he took a sip from his coffee he went on his way, leaving Allison in a confused state. On one hand, her crush had genuinely just asked her out and that was amazing! On the other... Who's coffee mug was it that she had drugged then?

Henry groaned as he hung up his phone for the 20th time that day. Whoever the hell was calling his landline only to breathe heavily into the speaker as he questioned them, was really starting to aggravate him.

Damn kids and their stupid pranking antics... He had half a mind to call the cops!

#eps writes:#bendy and the ink machine #batim #allison pendle #thomas connor

6 notes · View notes

wistfulcynic · 5 years ago

Text

To Keep It All The Year (4 /4)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Okay, it’s a bit early, but have one anyway.

The final chapter of this Christmas tale for @katie-dub is basically just fluff and magic. Friends and family and Christmas parties and presents and happy endings. To be read wrapped in a warm blanket with a cup of tea. I hope you enjoy it!

SUMMARY: Killian Jones is a broken man, betrayed by everyone and everything he thought he could believe in. He’s all but given up on life until a fateful meeting with bartender Emma Swan and her son Henry gives him a reason to live again, and a chance to redeem his past.

All it takes is a little Christmas magic.

On AO3 | Tumblr: Part One | Part Two | Part Three

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ at @thisonesatellite who is incapable of not being the best.

Tagging all the folks from the last tag list, PLEASE do let me know if you want to be added or removed. @kmomof4 @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @darkcolinodonorgasm @snowbellewells @stahlop @mariakov81 @courtorderedcake @jonirobinson64 @tiganasummertree @ohmightydevviepuu @shardminds @jennjenn615 @superchocovian @teamhook

PART FOUR: THE END BEGINNING OF IT

The sun rises at 7.13 am on the 25th of December in the city where they live, but Henry, who normally needs to be prised off his pillows and hauled bodily from his bed, is up well before it. The eastern sky has barely begun to lighten when he comes flying into his parents’ room, leaping onto their bed and wiggling into the narrow space between them, his elbow digging into Killian’s stomach.

“Ugh,” Killian grunts, shifting to give Henry more room. “Lad—”

“Get up get up get up!” cries Henry, shaking Emma’s shoulder until she lifts her head from the pillow. “Santa came!”

“Did you go downstairs already?” groans Emma.

“I didn’t go all the way down, I just looked to see if Santa came. And he did! Get up, c’mon let’s go!”

“All right, all right,” says Emma, rubbing her eyes. “I’m awake.”

Henry scrambles over Killian and runs from the room, off to hover just on the edge of the landing quivering impatiently until the slowpoke grownups got their act together.

Emma whimpers and rolls onto Killian’s chest, nestling her face into the crook of his neck. “It’s so early,” she whines.

It’s not far off the time Killian would normally get up, making it a good hour and a half before Emma prefers to open her eyes. He strokes her hair sympathetically. “Christmas morning, love,” he soothes. “It’s only once a year. Tomorrow you can sleep as long as you like.”

“That doesn’t help me today,” she grumbles, and looks up at him with a still-sleepy smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he replies, kissing her softly. She hums in response and he pulls her closer.

“Are you guys coming?” shouts Henry from the landing, and Emma snickers.

Killian grins and combs his fingers through her hair. “Shall we go see what Santa brought?” he asks.

“The suspense is killing me,” she deadpans. She drops a quick peck on his lips then rolls out of bed, grabbing a fluffy bathrobe to slip on over her pajamas. Killian follows suit and they leave the room together, out to where Henry is dancing at the top of the stairs.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Go on down,” says Emma. “Carefully—” she calls after him as he leaps down the stairs three at a time.

When they get to the living room Henry is hovering between the stockings and the tree.

“Stockings first,” says Killian. “Then I think your mum and I are going to need some coffee before we open the rest.”

Henry carefully takes down the stocking labelled Emma and the one that says Killian, and hands each to the appropriate recipient before diving into his own. They are stuffed full of chocolate and socks as Christmas stockings tend to be, along with one or two more exciting items to make the rest worthwhile. “Ah, yes!” Henry cries, pulling out a Bumblebee transformer. “This is just the one I wanted!”

Killian and Emma exchange a relieved glance.

“Santa knows what you want,” says Emma, removing a small velvet jeweller’s box from her own stocking. Within is a silver locket containing a picture of Henry. She gasps and a soft smile curves her lips as she traces her finger over its delicate edge.

“Indeed he does,” Killian agrees, taking out the antique compass he’s been eyeing for the past few months in the window of a little shop near his work. He didn’t think Emma noticed.

He looks up to find her smiling at him, her eyes misty. “Since Santa’s not here, I might thank you for this instead,” she whispers, kissing him.

“Aye,” he growls against her mouth. “And I suspect he may have had some help procuring this compass.”

“I possibly passed on a suggestion or two,” she says.

Once the stockings are empty, Henry plays with his transformer while Emma makes coffee and Killian tidies up the first wave of present detritus. She returns with two steaming mugs and a glass of orange juice for Henry, and after all three have taken several strengthening gulps she takes Henry’s glass and gives him the go-ahead to attack the presents beneath the tree.

Henry makes sure to hand a present to each of them before diving into the largest one of his own, a wooden sled in an old-fashioned style that from his shouts of joy is also just the one he wanted.

When the presents have all been opened Emma goes to make some breakfast while Killian clears away the wrapping paper and other packaging and sternly ensures that Henry takes all his new toys, books, and other gifts up to his room and finds a place for them.

Breakfast is pancakes, sprinkled with little red and green M&Ms for Emma and Henry and plain for Killian, who protests that they’ve both already finished the chocolate in their stockings and that’s far too much sugar for first thing in the morning, Christmas Day or no. Emma and Henry exchange identical eye rolls and fill their mouths with huge bites of chocolate pancake as Killian sighs and cuts his into precise squares with exaggerated patience.

After breakfast Killian takes Henry to the park to try out his new sled and to give Emma time to take a nap and get ready for the rest of the day. The three of them are due at Belle’s at one for Christmas dinner. Belle insisted, though her apartment is much smaller than their house, saying that Ruby—her new roommate—has gone all-out with the Christmas decorations and she doesn’t want to waste them. She flushed pink as she said this, and Killian had to hide his grin. He has his suspicions about this ‘new roommate.’

The park closest to their house has a tallish hill with a smooth slope, perfect for sledding. It’s not too crowded, though there are a few other kids there giving their Christmas-present sleds a test run. Killian keeps half an eye on Henry as he chats to the other parents, marvelling a bit at how comfortable it feels even after all his years of minimal social interaction. Henry calls him and he allows himself to be cajoled into going down the hill on the back of the sled, doing his best to hold on as Henry steers them until they reach the steep dip at the bottom and overbalance, tumbling from the sled and into a snowdrift. He lands on his back and sinks into the snow with a groan, Henry’s shrieks of laughter ringing in his ears.

After Henry has gone down the hill and back up again to his satisfaction and is thoroughly snow-covered, they head home to find Emma rested and showered. She laughs when she sees them, brushes the snow from Killian’s hair and kisses the reddened tip of his nose as Henry peels off his snowsuit, then takes the boy upstairs to get him dressed and ready while Killian has a quick shower and gets ready himself.

He turns the water up as hot as he can stand to chase the chill from his old bones, filling the bathroom with comforting steam. When he gets out he swipes his hand across the foggy mirror and for the third year in a row stands in his bathroom on Christmas Day and takes a hard look at himself and his life.

There are more lines on his face than were there last year, he thinks, but they are lines drawn by laughter and softened by happiness, and though his hair continues to go greyer by the day if ever he dares complain Emma runs her fingers through it and tells him to stop moaning, there are people who would pay good money for highlights like that.

He no longer works at the bookshop. Instead he is the director of the community library which six months ago Emma inaugurated in the neighbourhood where they used to live, as part of her project to revitalise the area using her money.

“It’s just so much money,” she said to him with a small laugh one late winter afternoon not quite a year before. “I didn’t really understand how much until I tried to spend it. I bought everything I could think of and it’s barely made a dent. And I just—I feel like I don’t need it anymore. I have my house and my school all paid for, and a car and a college fund for Henry and some investments which just bring more in, and even if I set aside way more than I think I’ll need for savings and retirement and a nice vacation every year there’s still so much left.” She laughed again, with a slight manic edge.

“So what do you want to do with it, love?” he asked. “I sense you have ideas.”

“I do,” she replied. “One in particular that I’d like your opinion on. Not because I need your approval,” she said quickly, heading off his protest. “I just want to know if you think this is something I can do.”

He nodded. “Tell me.”

"At first I thought about giving it to someone else, or even several people. People I knew in our old neighbourhood, to help them escape that place the way it helped me. But then it occurred to me that it would be more useful to make the place somewhere people didn’t need to escape. That would help everybody.” She gave him a hesitant look. “What do you think?”

Killian smiled. “I think that’s an absolutely brilliant idea.”

“And you really think I can mange it?”

“Of course you can. You improve everything you touch, Emma. And I’ve yet to see you fail.”

With Killian’s support and the aid of some skilful research from Belle, Emma started a non-profit foundation for community development and revitalisation. The ink was barely dry on the official forms when she launched herself into her first project.

She bought out slum lords and renovated their properties, instituted rent controls and long-term tenancies, provided low-interest loan options to people who wished to buy their apartments, and set up co-ops so they could manage the buildings themselves. She offered initiatives to businesses who took over the empty shops and employed local people, and even larger ones to local people who wished to start their own businesses. She set up a fund for the neighbourhood schools for renovations and expansion and salaries for new teachers, free lunches for all students and enough school supplies so teachers never had to buy their own. She endowed a hospital.

Killian is so proud of her he can barely contain it.

The neighbourhood is still very much a work in progress, but slowly the vision of what it will be when all that work is done is starting to emerge. New shops and offices open almost daily. The streets are cleaner and the people on them smile when they pass each other, and say hello. A sense of community is beginning to form, one Killian can actually see growing stronger every day in his library among the patrons he has come to know by name. Once again, he reflects, Emma has saved a thing he thought unsalvageable. A broken old sailor one year, an entire neighbourhood the next. And that’s only the beginning.

The foundation has recently begun to attract attention from the press and subsequently, inevitably, from investors. Emma laughed at first and said she’s still trying to spend the money she has, but when Killian pointed out that with greater investment she could expand to other parts of the city she got a gleam in her eye that’s still there.

“Let’s get through stage one,” she said. “Then we’ll consider investors.” But Killian could see the cogs turning in her mind and he smiled to himself. There was no stopping his Emma once she got an idea in her head.

He realises he’s still standing in the bathroom staring at his reflection in the mirror and gives himself a little shake. Quickly he dries off and gets dressed in some soft woollen trousers and the new sweater Emma gave him for Christmas. She comes into the bedroom just as he’s pulling it on and when he tugs it over his head he sees her smiling at him.

“I knew that was just the right shade to bring out your eyes,” she says with satisfaction, brushing her hands across his shoulders and adjusting the collar of his paisley shirt.

“You have a good eye, love,” he says, catching her around the waist and pulling her close.

“I’ve still got to get dressed,” she protests feebly as he kisses her. “And if you mess up my hair I’ll have to redo it.”

“I like it best a bit messy,” he growls, brushing the golden curls aside so he can kiss her neck. She pushes at his shoulder but he can hear her breath hitching in her throat and he nips at her collarbone.

“Don’t you dare leave a mark,” she gasps. “I can’t wear a scarf with this dress.” He soothes the nip with his tongue and she sighs. “We’re gonna be late.”

Her fingers curl into his hair even as she speaks the words and he trails back up her neck to capture her lips in a kiss that has her moaning, and breathless when he finally breaks it.

“Well you’d better get a move on, then,” he smirks. “I’ll go make sure Henry’s ready.

A fluffy slipper hits the back of his head as he leaves the bedroom and he laughs all the way down the stairs.

—

They arrive at Belle’s slightly late. “I was just about to call you,” she says mock-severely as she opens the door.

“Sorry,” Killian says, kissing her cheek. “We got held up.”

“Hmmm,” says Belle, raising an eyebrow at the flush on Emma’s cheeks. “I bet you did. You remember Ruby.” She indicates the tall and gorgeous woman standing behind her and grinning ear to ear.

“Aye. Nice to see you again, lass.”

“And you.” Ruby curls the tip of her tongue around the corner of her lips as her gaze glides slowly down his body. “You look better every time I see you.”

He returns her expert leer with a very fine one of his own. “As do you,” he purrs, waggling his eyebrows. “That’s one hell of a dress.”

Belle and Emma observe this byplay with identical half-amused, half-exasperated expressions. “Are you done?” sighs Emma. “I want to see these Christmas decorations I’ve heard so much about, Ruby.”

“Well you’d better come in then.”

The little flat is indeed bursting with festive cheer, with a huge Christmas tree in one corner of the living room, tall enough that its star scrapes the ceiling and decorated to the hilt, and every available surface covered in glittering tinsel and blinking lights. There’s even a Santa in his sleigh with all his reindeer, hanging from the ceiling.

“Wow!” cries Henry “We have got to do this next year, Mom!”

“Um.” Emma exchanges a glance with Killian. “We’ll see, baby.”

—

“I know it’s a bit much,” Belle whispers to Killian a few minutes later as they sit together on the couch with Henry playing at their feet. Emma and Ruby are in the kitchen preparing some hot chocolate. “But Ruby’s never had a place of her own before and she was so excited to decorate I didn't have the heart to stop her.”

“Don't apologise, love,” he replies. “The decorations are charming, and so is Ruby.” He glances at her. “So, are you ever planning to tell me the truth about what’s going on with you two?”

She flushes. “There’s nothing going on, we’re roommates.”

“Roommates in the very literal sense of the word,” he retorts. “I had a peek in my old bedroom and it’s basically a glorified closet. If she’s sleeping in there I’ll eat my new sweater.”

“All right, okay, we’re together,” huffs Belle.

“Together together?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes. But it’s still really new and I don’t want to jinx it, so I didn’t say anything. To anyone, not just you.” She pauses and smiles a soft little smile. “I’m hopeful though,” she says. “It feels really right.”

He takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “I'm so glad,” he says. “You look happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

“Do I?”

“Aye, you do. And you’re wearing two shades of lipstick.”

—

They spend the afternoon and into the evening with Belle and Ruby, eating and drinking and opening presents, singing Christmas carols and catching up on the latest goings on in their lives. Killian tells stories from his library and Belle from her bookstore, Henry eagerly recounts what he’s learning in school, and Emma talks animatedly about her plans for the foundation in the new year. Ruby works in her grandmother’s diner, she tells them, a job she likes well enough, though she’s getting a bit frustrated with her granny’s old-fashioned style and looking for something new.

“Have you ever considered opening one of your own?” Emma asks her. “There’s a place not far from the library that would be perfect for a diner.”

Ruby’s eyes light up. “Are you serious?”

Emma digs out a business card from her bag and hands it to her. “Absolutely. Give me a call after the holidays and we’ll go have a look at it.”

As the evening progresses Henry fights valiantly to keep his eyes open but it’s a losing battle, and when he falls asleep curled up on the sofa with his head in Killian’s lap, Emma decides it’s time they went home and calls them a cab.

The ride is brief and quiet, the three of them cuddled up together in the back seat, and when they get home Killian carries a still-sleeping Henry inside and up to his bedroom. He gets the lad undressed and into his pajamas, tucks him into bed and presses a kiss to his forehead. Henry’s eyes blink open.

“Killian?” he says.

“Aye, lad.”

“Are we home?”

“We are. Go back to sleep.”

Henry yawns and snuggles deeper into his pillow. “Can we go sledding again tomorrow?”

“Yes, if you want.”

“And Mom can come too?”

“I’m sure she’d love to.”

Henry’s eyes drift shut and Killian begins to sneak away, stopping in the doorway when Henry calls his name again.

“Killian?”

He sighs. “Yes, Henry?”

“Are you gonna ask her soon?”

Killian thinks of the ring tucked away in the back of his sock drawer, awaiting its moment. “Aye, lad, very soon.”

“Do it soon,” says Henry, yawning again. “I want to call you Dad.”

He says that so casually, Killian thinks, like they aren’t some of the most precious words he’s ever heard. Right up there with the I love yous Emma used to whisper against his skin when she thought he was asleep, and the shy but certain one she finally said to his face. And soon, hopefully, her I do.

“I want that too,” he says gruffly. “Now go to sleep.”

He heads downstairs where he finds Emma with her stockinged feet up on the coffee table, lost in thought.

“Hey,” he says, stroking her hair. “I thought you were going to make some coffee?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “I was just thinking.”

He sits next to her. “About what, love?”

“Christmases past,” she says with a laugh. “About how different everything is now than it was just two years ago, and all the things that had to come together to make it possible. I mean, do you ever think about how unlikely it was that you and I met? Like all the little things that had to fall into place to bring us together?”

“Well, we were living in the same neighbourhood.”

“Yeah, but our paths never crossed until you came into the bar two years ago. Why did you go there that night when you’d never been in before?”

“I don't know really. I guess I never noticed it until then.” He frowns for a moment, remembering. “It was the wreath that did it.”

“The wreath?”

“Aye. There was a wreath, a Christmas wreath, hanging on the door. It caught my attention and I just decided to go in.” He’s about to mention the identical wreath he saw on the bookstore’s door the following year when Emma speaks.

“That’s so weird.” She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’d forgotten until just now.”

“Forgotten what?”

“The Christmas party I was at last year, before I went to the bar and found you, there was a wreath there that caught my eye. It had cinnamon sticks on it.” She laughs. “You know how I love cinnamon, though usually I prefer it in my drinks and not on my walls.” Her laugh fades into a small frown. “I actually said that, now that I think about it, to this guy who was there. God, how did I forget about all of this?”

Killian feels himself go very still. “What guy?” he asks.

“I don’t know, I never got his name. He was a bit taller than you, curly hair. Eyes kind of like yours, that same light blue. Also an accent. He kind of reminded me of you, actually. Huh.”

Killian swallows. “What did he say to you?”

“Not much, just that cinnamon sticks on Christmas wreaths were pretty common in some places. I said it seemed like a waste of good spices and he laughed. He said he’d made that wreath himself and he’d take my advice into consideration in the future.” She shrugs. “I liked him, but it wasn’t a particularly profound conversation.”

She pauses then, the frown deepening between her eyes. “But then he—he gave me the weirdest look, sort of—fond, and sad. He said that some people believe cinnamon can be used to summon true love and I started to laugh, but then I was suddenly... overcome by the certainty that you were at the bar and that it might be my only chance to ever see you again. So I left the party and went to the bar and there you were. And then somehow I forgot all about all of this until you mentioned the wreath just now. How bizarre is that?”

“Very,” Killian croaks, his throat thick with unshed tears. He pulls Emma into his arms and holds her tight, too tightly probably but she doesn’t protest.

“Hey,” she says gently. “Are you okay?”

“Aye, love. Just thinking about how close we came to missing each other. It’s not a thing I really care to contemplate. If we hadn’t met I just—I don’t know where I’d be.” If I’d be.

“I know just what you mean.” Her arms tighten around him and they sit for a moment, wrapped in each other and in fate and love and magic.

Eventually they pull apart, with soft kisses and lingering touches to prolong the embrace. “Why don’t you go make that coffee,” he says, stroking her cheek with his fingertips. “I’ll get a fire started.”

“Okay.”

Killian watches until the kitchen door swings shut behind her and then he goes to the fireplace, sinks to his knees on the hearth and lets his head fall into his hands. He is shaking, almost sobbing, tears slipping from his eyes to roll slowly down his cheeks. Sad tears and grateful ones, salty and bittersweet, aching with both loss and joy.

Because he knows now who that florist was, in the little shop on the street he’s never been able to find again. He suspected before but now he’s certain. He has no notion of how or why, and he doesn’t care to find one. Killian has always considered himself a man of science and reason, but this he accepts on pure faith: That somehow, in some way his long-dead brother reached out and gave him the push he needed to pull himself together. To find love and friends and a new family. To save his life.

He remembers quite suddenly a line from one of his favourite books, one his brother used to read out loud to him each Christmas. “Heaven and the Christmas time be praised for this,” he murmurs, and it is truly a prayer. “I say this on my knees, Liam. On my knees.”

When Emma returns with the coffee the fire is crackling cheerfully and he is calm again. He takes the mugs from her and sets them on the table, then wraps her in his arms, resting his cheek on her hair.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he says.

She snuggles into his chest with a happy sigh. “Merry Christmas.”

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #captain cobra #captain cobra swan #captain book #red beauty #christmas #christmas magic #brothers jones #christmas fluff #super fluffy #and soft #and emotional #have tissues #to keep it all the year #profdanglaisstuff

71 notes · View notes

criminalminds-hc-hq · 5 years ago

Text

Proximity

Word Count: 2,433 (who am I???)

Warnings: None that I can think of. If you find any, let me know.

Author’s Note: I had an idea for a few scenes and it turned into this. My first pretty sizable fic. Merry Christmas. This is my gift to you.

Maria has been working with the BAU for a little over a year now. To say her crush is no longer a crush would be an understatement. It would be difficult not to fall in love with Spencer. He’s kind, smart, sweet, and funny. It also helps that he is very attractive. Though, if she was just into looks, there were plenty of other guys in D.C. who would be up her alley too. Or at least in reach of her 5’6” frame.

Honestly, Maria doesn’t know how much longer she can go on like this. Last week she ducked into Penelope’s batcave to avoid talking to him after making a fool of herself. She had said the wrong thing in front of Spencer out of her building nerves around him and he corrected her. Now she’s proving she isn’t smart enough for someone like him as well as the understood fact that he is much more attractive than her.

At this thought, her gaze slides up from the folder she’s pretending to read and to the man in the sweater sitting across from her on the jet. Spencer had cut his hair right before Maria met him, but now it was sitting in the in between stage--somewhere between short and too long for most guys. He is biting his lip as he reviews the case. Well, there’s a distraction she definitely doesn’t need right now. For weeks, she’s been fighting the impulse to act on her feelings for Spencer. Penelope and JJ both keep telling her that he feels the same. But she isn’t willing to act on her feelings without solid proof. What would happen then? Losing her best friend wasn’t an option.

“I give up. I can’t focus right now,” Maria says as she drops the folder on the table. Spencer follows suit and lays his folder on top of hers.

“What’s up? Something on your mind?” he asks.

With a sigh, Maria runs her fingers through her hair and answers, “not really. I think I’m just tired. I’m gonna grab some coffee.” Sure, overcaffeinating’s probably not a good idea hours before landing for a new case. But Pen and JJ’s words running through her mind are distracting. What if?

“I’ll come with. I want to see if they got that creamer I asked for,” Spencer says while getting up. Maria follows suit and grabs at JJ’s shoulder as she’s passing by. JJ looks up from her phone and smiles back at her.

When they reach the coffee station, Spencer passes her a mug of coffee before standing back to let her at the creamers and sugars. She comes in to add some sugar to her coffee. She can feel Spencer standing behind her with his own mug and tries not to let that get to her. Her emotions--or her hormones really--have never been so out of control. He’s just a man.

Taking a steadying breath, she turns around and realizes that Spencer is closer in her bubble of space than she expected. Maria’s breath catches in her throat as she looks up into his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispers. Maria knows that Spencer has a thing about germs and being in close physical proximity is probably not the best thing for him.

“I didn’t mean to--” Spencer starts to say before she cuts him off.

“I didn’t know your eyes were so golden.” Ugh. What is wrong with her today? Yeah, his eyes look like warm honey as she feels herself getting lost in them, but was it really necessary to say that? She feels her cheeks flame as she stares up at him.

“Oh, um--” Spencer stutters out before Maria quickly presses past him.

Maria sits down in the empty chair across from JJ in an effort to give herself some breathing room. She starts sipping her coffee while JJ and Emily discuss the case and their words go in one ear and out the other.

---------

During the case, Maria did her best to work with Emily or JJ and to stay away from Spencer. No one seemed to notice how oddly she was behaving. Or if they did, they didn’t say anything to her. Even the flight back felt uncomfortable despite pretending to sleep for most of it.

Maria cannot wait to get back home after such a crazy case. She could probably sleep for a few days if she let herself. In reality, she needs some time away from her fellow profilers. She’s never acted so unprofessionally during a case before and that’s not okay. After filing the last of her paperwork away, she grabs her go bag and her car keys.

“Unless anyone needs anything from me, I’m going to pass out for 48 hours straight,” Maria says to the room at large. JJ and Luke say goodnight while Matt and Tara wave her off, still going over their own paperwork. Maria heads to the elevator and vaguely starts planning her weekend while waiting for it to arrive.

“Hey, Maria!” Her head drops at his voice. So close to getting some time away from him, yet so far. It’s not that she has any negative feelings about him, but taking the time away to get her mind off him is necessary at this point. She can’t keep letting him affect her work.

“Yes, Spencer?” she asks while turning around slowly. “What’s up?”

Spencer stops a few feet from her and shifts his weight from foot to foot while looking for his words. He seems uncomfortable and Maria is sure it’s because of her. Sure that he realized what her behavior means and he’s uncomfortable around her because of it. He’s a genius and a profiler, there’s no way he doesn’t understand what her distance, her stares, her general out of character behavior means.

“Can we talk?” he asks when the elevator arrives.

“Yeah, come into my office,” Maria says to try to lighten the mood.

With a soft laugh, he steps into the elevator with her. Both turn to face the door with a couple of feet separating them. Maria could not be any more uncomfortable. Spencer looks awkward as well--while she knows that might just be him and have nothing to do with her, she knows it’s probably her fault this awkwardness has built up like a wall between them.

Spencer clears his throat before bringing up the reason they’re on this awkward elevator ride, “Did I do something to upset you? You’ve been acting differently this whole case.”

Of course Spencer would notice if one of his best friends were avoiding him for days on end.

“No, we’re fine, Spencer. Really,” she says. “This was a hard case. They were kids for Christ’s sake. I think I just need to go home and get my mind off of it.”

“It’s not because of what happened in the jet?” he asks while staring at the lit numbers indicating the floor they are currently passing. Maria knew it was her fault he was behaving like this. She wants to bang her head on the elevator wall, but it’s finally reaching the garage level. “I didn’t mean to crowd you like that. I know I get uncomfortable with people violating my space and I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel that way.”

Wait...what? Spencer thinks this awkwardness is his fault? Maria turns toward him while walking out of the elevator door. With an incredulous laugh, she says, “Spencer, you didn’t do anything wrong. We’re fine. I promise.” Spencer follows after her as she continues walking toward her car.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You can tell me if I upset you,” Spencer presses on. “That happened on the jet and then you started avoiding me.”

Clicking the unlock button on her remote, Maria turns around to face Spencer again. “Spence, we’re fine. I’d let you know if you bothered me.” At this, he seems to come to some sort of decision. The look on his face hardens slightly and he takes a step closer to her, definitely crowding into her personal bubble intentionally this time. She can just barely smell the cologne he’s wearing. It’s a woody scent scarcely lingering in the space between them.

“If you’re sure,” he says softly. He stares at her for a moment before raising his hand up to move a strand of hair behind her ear. “Goodnight, Mare.” Her ear and cheek spark where Spencer’s hand graze them and her cheeks burn. She feels like she’s fighting to breathe as she watches his golden eyes light up before he turns to walk away.

Maria’s heart is still pounding hard as she watches Spencer make his way back to the elevator. It’s all she can do to lean back against her car door and try not to let hope grab her by the heart.

----------

“JJ, I love your boys so much, but do I have to go to this thing?” Maria asks while pacing in front of her door, keys in hand. She had forgotten in her rush to leave yesterday that Henry’s birthday party was today.

“You cannot back out of this just because of Spencer,” JJ says firmly. “I don’t care how weird things are between the two of you right now. Henry would be upset if you didn’t come.”

Maria stops her pacing and lays her head against her front door in frustration. “I knew you’d play that card. Ugh. Okay, I’m coming over. I’ll be there soon.”

“Don’t make this weird, Mare. If you ruin my child’s party there’ll be hell to pay,” JJ says before Maria hangs up.

Great. Just fucking fantastic really. Maria had told JJ all about the weird moment she had with Spencer in the parking garage, but the woman doesn’t care. Maria doesn’t know any woman who cares more about her child than JJ. It makes her a great mother, but right now it’s kind of a pain in the ass.

With a sigh, Maria grabs her coat and leaves her apartment before she can worry too much about it.

Walking through the back doors and into the backyard at Will and JJ’s place is a shock to the system. Red and blue balloons are tied to chairs and tables that are covered in blue tablecloths around the yard. There’s a cutout of some sort of action figure that Henry loves standing next to the cake table.

Maria hears a joyful scream to her left. Henry comes barreling past as Michael and Spencer chase after him. They might be playing tag or another game. All three of them seem happy either way. She watches them go by with a smile and turns to see their tech. analyst walking up to her.

“He is going to be a great dad one day,” Penelope says, noticing Maria’s preoccupation.

“Don’t say that to me,” Maria says leaning into her. “Do you know what a mess my friendship with him is turning into right now?”

Penelope wraps her arm around Maria, trying to comfort her. “Maybe that’s what has to happen before you can make something better.”

“Okay, stop turning into a talking motivational poster and show me where the grown up drinks are.”

A little while later, Maria is recruited for chip refill duty and carries the three bowls inside. Setting them down on the counter by the sink, Maria thinks about the party so far. She’s spent some time talking to all of her team. Including Spencer. But he acted like nothing had happened.

Maybe for him nothing had. But Maria couldn’t remember a single instance of Spencer initiating contact between the two of them. In their whole year of friendship, she was the one who always started the hugs or comforted the other. Refilling the bowls, Maria lets her distraction overtake her.

“You okay?” a voice asks, drawing her out of her line of thought. Looking up, she sees Spencer coming into the kitchen from the party.

“Oh, yeah. Just lost in thought for a second,” Maria says. “Pretty good party for a kid, huh? JJ really spoils her boys.”

Her eyes track Spencer as he walks through the kitchen, getting closer to where she’s standing. He opens a drawer by the sink and pulls out a lighter.

“They’re pretty lucky. We’re almost ready for the cake if you want to join us.”

“Sure.”

“I like your dress by the way,” Spencer says standing very close to her now. Maria can barely hear him over the sound of her pulse in her ears. She turns to face him and sees a light in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Oh, thanks,” Maria says. “I think it’s the one Penelope helped me pick out.” There is a force pulling her to him. That can’t be something she imagined. Her friends were right, right? They had to be. It wasn’t just her behavior that was out of the norm anymore. He doesn’t initiate contact, especially after everything he’s been through. Yesterday had to mean something, right?

Without thinking, Maria’s trembling hand wraps behind Spencer’s neck and she leans up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his. For a moment, horror wraps around her gut as Spencer stands there completely still, not reacting. He is pure resistance and Maria realizes she was wrong. He doesn’t feel the same way she does. She’s been misreading his actions completely. Her friendship is ruined.

Then suddenly his hands are snaking around her waist. Maria gasps as Spencer kisses her back fiercely. Her panic fades to the back of her mind as she wraps her other hand behind his neck. He uses her shock to his advantage and licks her bottom lip. Spencer’s fingertips on her back press her even tighter to him. His heat, his scent, his touch are overwhelming her. A soft noise from the back of Spencer’s throat let’s her know that she’s not alone in that feeling. They are crushed chest to chest, hip to hip, leg to trembling leg before Maria pulls back slightly to drop back to her feet.

“Mare--”

There’s a loud bang as Luke comes in from the party followed by a low whistle. “You two do realize this is a kid’s party right?” At this, Maria and Spencer pull away from each other, suddenly brought back down to Earth. The little world around them has disappeared. Luke grabs the lighter from Spencer and makes his way back toward the door. “Feel free to join us when you’re done,” he says with a laugh.

#criminal minds #spencer fic #spencer reid #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #merry christmas #enjoy your present #dr. spencer reid #oc #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds hc hq

43 notes · View notes

teatimewithlennon · 5 years ago

Text

I Know The Way There [John Lennon] - Part 2

~~Lydia makes her way to her dad's cafe to help out when he gives her a good piece of advice~~

Part One

Song Inspo

Word Count: 1298

{Also, the cafe name came from my friend Brandon, he wanted me to tell y’all.}

One of the great parts of living in such a big, weird, city is that you don't look that crazy taking a bus in full glam-rock clothes at 9 am. You do still get weird looks from old ladies, but it's not too bad.

I do realize that I could just jump to the places I need to go to, but there are a few problems with it.

1) It's not exactly the most conspicuous thing to just pop out of nowhere in the middle of a crowded city 2) It does quite a number on the body to do multiple times in a row And finally...

3) You don't get the lovely experience of little kids asking to touch your jacket spikes.

So I tend to just take the bus when I need to go somewhere. Driving in Seattle is a nightmare and I don't even have a license. You'd think with the ability to time travel I could find the time to go get my license, but honestly, the real problem isn't time. It's the lack of ability to pass a driver's test. My dad always gets on my ass about it.

Henry Tyler is a great man and an even better father. He and my mother always tried to give me the best in life. Even if they didn't mean to have me, they cherished me with every fiber of their being. See, my parents never tried to have kids; when my mother was younger she had been told she could probably never have kids due to an illness she had. My parents were fairly old when they had me and had already settled down into a life without kids. They owned a cafe, had a cute little apartment, and they thought their dogs were enough; having never considered adopting. But, like many things in life, something unexpected happened and my mother had me. While both my parents were excited, my dad was ecstatic; something he'd never thought he'd feel about a child.

Even more unexpected was that I'd have the abilities I do. They were extremely freak at first; when I started teleporting as a toddler. In the beginning, they thought I was just moving around the house really fast until they found me in very strange places. Like inside the dryer, or on top of the bookcases. My mother believed it to be a gift from the universe, that I was a gift from the universe. She relished every second she had with me.

When I get to me stop, I swing myself out of my seat and off the bus, making quick pace down the street.

The Ballard neighborhood is much prettier than Seattle proper. I mean, nothing against downtown, but I hate towering buildings and the smell of piss everywhere. Also, this is where I grew up. The area is full of breweries and therefore, hipsters. It's a quaint area and looking out over the water from the locks is a real sight to behold.

As I turn around the corner my dad's cafe comes into view. The building is brick and very old as is most of the Ballard area. There are two metal tables out front on either side of the door with beautiful white and yellow striped umbrellas. At one table sits a couple enjoying an early morning cup of coffee before heading off to start their days. On the glass in the front of the cafe is a cute drawing of a coffee mug with the words, "Terrains De Repos" printed in cursive.

I push open the door and am greeted with the smell of freshly ground coffee and baked goods. Slow music plays softly in the background.

"Dad!" I call out, "I'm here to help set up for tonight."

The morning sun shines through the glass onto the checkered floor tiles. In the front windows of the shop, on either side, are counters with four bar stools. On the right wall is an old sofa with colorful pillows set out. Next to it is a couple of comfy armchairs. The coffee table in front is covered in old copies of Rolling Stone. Across from this sitting area is another, this one with several bean bag chairs on top of a bright orange rug from the 70s. Against the brick wall is a record player with several wood cartons of vinyl under it.

Moving further back into the cafe there is an elevated platform on the left wall. On it, there is a small music setup, with two guitars, one electric, and the other acoustic; as well as a couple of amps and a microphone. There are a few tables against the wall opposite the makeshift stage. The walls are covered in old photos and posters. Some from my parents' escapades and some from my own.

Then, there's the counter. It stretches across the back wall ending just before a hallway. Half of it has a pastry case full of wonderful goodies. There sits a vintage cash register on one end. Next to the register is a tip jar labeled "LSD Fund" and a bell. Behind the counter are all of the coffee machines and other accouterments of the trade. On the Back wall is a photo of my mom smiling brightly.

Just as I reach to ring the bell on the counter, my dad comes out from behind the bead curtain leading to the kitchen.

"Hey there kiddo," He says with a smile, "Didn't think you'd be here so early."

"Well, I got in earlier than I thought I would," I hop onto the counter.

"You sure don't look like it. You doing okay?" He asks with that fatherly concern of his.

"I'm fine. Just a little hungover is all." I say with a sigh.

"The 80s will do that to a person," He starts pouring a cup of tea for me. "but to me, this seems like more than a hangover. I can see it in your eyes pumpkin."

"I'm just having a hard time finding inspiration for my music." He hands me my cup and I look into the brown liquid.

"You've never had that problem before." He looks concerned, "Has something changed?"

"It's just- It's that I've been all sorts of wonderful places. I keep going to all these places hoping that I'll find something that drives me to make real music. I've met so many people, but no one has made me really feel something authentic." I look up from my cup of tea, "I want to have something like you did with mom. I've realized I'm nowhere near that. And for some reason, I can't see it in the future."

"Maybe your love isn't waiting for you in your future, maybe your love is somewhere unexpected." His eyes are soft when I meet them.

"I just don't know how that would work. If it's someone in the past, wouldn't they already be here?" I ask

"How would I know, you're the time wizard." He shrugs at me. Walking over to put a recond on. "This one goes out to a one Miss Tyler."

I hop off the counter and skip over to him as the iconic beginning song of Rubber Soul starts to play. And as those first notes play I start to dance, and my dad sings the opening to me.

"Asked a girl what she wanted to be She said, 'baby, can't you see I want to be famous, a star on the screen But you can do something in-between'"

When the chorus builds I grab the microphone of the stage and sing back to him.

"Baby, you can drive my car Yes, I'm gonna be a star Baby, you can drive my car And maybe I'll love you"

#john lennon fanfiction #time travel au #John Lennon #slow burn #slowburn #Ringo Starr #George Harrison #paul mccartney #beatles fanfiction #the beatles #Beatles #beatles fanfic #time travel #IKTWT

9 notes · View notes

seven-oomen · 5 years ago

Text

I’m sorry you’re still feeling exhausted. I hope work wasn’t too terrible today, and that the weekend lets you rest up a bit (if you get normal weekends. working in retail I try not to assume.) Also, this is likely to just be a short(-ish) collection of unconnected musings, but I felt like sharing them anyway, and really you should be used to that from me at this point. XD So, first off that tree painting is GORGEOUS. I mean, I tend to be kinda partial to that whole tree silhouette type aesthetic, so I’m probably slightly biased. But still. (And the background shading… <3 ) Also, ngl, the backlit keyboard keeps making me think of that video of Henry Cavill assembling his new computer that’s making the rounds. That is not meant as a complaint of any sort, mind you, merely an observation.

Speaking of hot scruffy dudes who are actually massive dorks, did you SEE Ian’s most recent Insta pic?! (the non-cowboy hat one) Omg, I don’t know why he keeps complaining about how it’s starting to look like TW Season One hair like it’s some sort of bad thing. (The longer the hair, the better the grip you can get. […uh…wait, what?… ’>.> ]) That pic just screams OUAT sequel to me. Out here looking all shaggy and windblown and peaceful and content. Proud Alpha Dad Peter spending quality time with his family/pack. How very dare he spring this on an unsuspecting public with no warning? I was not prepared. (Also, Sinqua and Holland commenting on it just ups the adorable factor that much more.)

Also, was looking at a few sites lately in consideration of ordering a few more masks for work, found this print on one of them and almost laughed myself absolutely stupid. I don’t know why it was just so funny to me, but I hope it cheers you as much as it did me. Btw, it’s available on an impressive variety of items, including two types of notebooks, t-shirts, mugs, blankets, pillows, beach towels, shower curtains, rugs, bath mats, several styles of bags, phone cases, and assorted types of wall art (sadly not on a mask, however. I was deeply disappointed.) I can see any number of items ending up in the Haleargentski household, bought by assorted non-wolf members for assorted wolf members, because they are a family of assholes. (I feel like the first gift was a travel mug to Peter from his darling husbands, then a t-shirt [on black ofc] from Peter to Derek, and then it just all snowballed from there.)

Today’s literally-just-appeared-out-of-nowhere-wtf-brain thought is (much like the French maid thing) definitely of the nsfw variety, so consider yourself duly warned if you have a shift today. Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun? There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too. Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time." And I was just like "not sure what this has to do with this video of how to make a ukelele out of colored pencils, but continue." But like, no really. Peter being knotted in one of them while the other uses beads or a (vibrating) plug on him? (Which one is the asshole who momentarily turns the vibration up high enough that they BOTH can feel it?) Or using those, or some kind of prostate massager, while he’s tied up and watching them with each other? Bonus points in that situation for anything remote controlled. See just how good his control really is. Equal opportunity toy usage is what I’m saying, basically.

Also had a thought inspired by a pregnant friend and her fiance raving about a local pizza place’s monthly special, which is a pickle pizza (no really). I may or may not have asked her if she had it with ice cream (I totally did, but apparently she’s past that point.) So I was wondering about any weird or specific cravings the boys have while pregnant. I remember Chris having a thing about chocolate pudding in the flashbacks. Was it only a certain type of pudding, or would any kind do? Were there any others he had? Did he have the same ones with Ben or different? What about Noah? What sort of cravings did he get, if any? And did they vary between sets of twins? Did anybody go the aforementioned pickles and ice cream route? Anybody dipping fries in Nutella? Onion straws in peanut butter? Doritos in cottage cheese? Anybody eat salsa straight out of the jar? Did anybody get any sudden absolute need for a specific fast food at two in the morning? Or suddenly want a type of snack food only carried at one truck stop halfway past the next town? Anybody spend several days eating nothing but veggie trays, including ones they normally can’t stand? Anybody develop a temporary aversion to certain things, like coffee (feels like it would be a terrible thing for either of them)? Did Peter cater to their every whim in any and all of these situations? (I already know that answer.) Did either one ever get demanding about it, or did they go the more passively-wistful-won’t-stop-mentioning-it route? Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability? (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Uh…I think that was the last of the random swirling questions/musings/headcanons for now… I hope you feel a bit better today, and that the time off (I think you mentioned some time off?) is helpful. Enjoy your time with your friend (that was this weekend, right?). If you’ve got ideas for writing stuff, but are having trouble getting them down, would making quick notes/reminders, or voice recordings, for later help? Like, so you don’t worry about losing them, but aren’t forcing yourself to do something you don’t feel up for at the time? Either way, congrats on keeping up with the journaling (and the pretty, pretty art), and I hope tracking everything proves helpful. And remember, other people’s bullshit issues and hang-ups are in no way your fault (no matter what they try to tell you), and you deserve all the good things. Take care! *Hugs to both of you!*

Yeah, honestly I think I hit that point in my life again where my battery is drained and I can’t restart it. Which is how I got my burn out at first and working towards another one. Heh but I also don’t want to give up now and just keep working for a little longer because my contract expires at the end of September and yeah..

Stress.

Aww gosh thank you, yeah I really like how that one turned out! It was better than expected.

Btw if you’re into Zombie apocalypse stories (I am) you should definitely check out The girl with all the gifts. It’s so brutal but also interesting, I definitely enjoyed that. (And it was research for my own book)

Lol I love this keyboard and this laptop, really, it was the most expensive thing I ever bought but it’s so worth it. Still runs super smooth after 2 years. I don’t think I’ve seen that video of Henry though.

And omg yes I did and it’s the best thing. he looks so SOFT omg. I def got OUAT S2 vibes from that. And OUAT vibes. Also that pic of him with Colton, omg. Those were the best!

THAT PRINT!!!! I nearly snorted coffee out of my nose this morning but managed to swallow it down just in time. My work computer would have suffered caffeine damage otherwise XD.

But yeah, that becomes a running gag for sure!

Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun? There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too. Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."

*cheff’s kiss*

Yes.

Oh the images are so good. Remind me to write them out in detail tomorrow after the zoo trip.

Also parking the pregnancy cravings to answer tomorrow since it’s past midnight and I should catch some sleep before I need to be up again. But I will definitely type that HC out.

Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability? (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Ohhh Debbie’s toast. Because yes, Noah’s magic is that much stronger when it’s fueled by pregnancy hormones and Chris turns into a very protective hormonal fighting machine. Low center of gravity has advantages when you’re in a squabble with the Karens.

And yeah, I have four days off right now. Which means I don’t have to work until Thursday again. Which is awesome!

But yeah work wasn’t too bad, I had to do one bad news conversation which fucking sucked since there was nothing I could do and nobody I could get a hold off to fix the problem for that customer and it was just a waiting game. I hate those conversations. I honestly do.

Most of it was quiet though and I got to leave an hour earlier due to the quiet day. So that was good. And I watched a movie while being paid (The girl with all the gifts) so that was pretty fun too XD

I actually voice record a lot already. I find it really helps with clearing my mind and I write a lot of stuff down. But I appreciate the tip!

Lots of cuddles from me and Mo and I hope your day went by well. <3

#ben says stuff #once upon a time comments #my convos with anon #submission

1 note · View note

searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

Text

Self Promo Sunday

I have honestly really enjoyed going back to my older fics and making picsets for them to post here on tumblr. This one is a cute little one shot that came to me because I did a brief stint in direct sales and was HORRIBLE at it! (I sold - or tried to sell - scrapbooking supplies). I know Killian is good at charming his way out of trouble and using his charm to steal things, but I imagined that being a salesman wouldn’t be as easy for him. You see, I was horrible at sales because I don’t like talking people into buying something when they clearly don’t want to. Killian Jones is very passionate about choice and free will, so I imagined the following story!

Words: 2k and some change

Rating: G for silly, sweet fluff

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan

Emma Swan really hopes Killian Jones has a second job. Because she’s never seen a worse salesman. The first time he comes into the diner, the last thing she would have pegged him as is a salesman. All mussed hair and black leather with piercings and a tattoo. The heavy black vinyl bag leaning against the booth next to him that says Buy the Book: Direct Sales is out of place.

He’s so bad at it that it takes him forever that first day to give her his sales pitch. Until his second cup of coffee, to be exact. That’s when he hems and haws as he gives her his business card. She stares at it, wondering how she can politely decline as he scratches behind his ear and slides a glossy catalogue across the table. She normally wouldn’t have any qualms at turning down either a sales pitch or a pick up line with a gruff not interested, but he’s so adorably nervous. He starts pulling sample inventory out of his bag, and that’s when she’s in trouble because Henry sniffs out the books like a bloodhound. Her son hops from his stool at the counter where he’s been doing his homework, and eagerly starts looking through the books.

“Look at this one, mom!” Henry exclaims, holding up a pirate sticker and activity book. “It’s not for babies. It’s got cool facts about the history of real pirates.”

Yes. Emma Swan’s son is not your typical ten year old. He’s both a bookworm and a history nut. And she loves him for it. Which is why she buys it. Not because salesman Killian Jones has killer blue eyes.

She pulls a twenty from her apron pocket, hands it to him (because there’s no way she’s giving a guy she just met her credit card information), and tries not to swoon when he smiles. It’s killer, too. She’s his first customer, he tells her, and she can’t help smiling back. He frowns, though, when he realizes he doesn’t have change for a twenty, and then Emma rolls her eyes because, really? It’s just a nickel. He smiles again at that and, well, crap. That smile!

She rolls her eyes later when she sees the ten he left for a tip along with a note telling her she’s “bloody amazing.” The fool went and gave the majority of his profit right back to her. Yeah, he really sucks at this.

*********************************************************

The second time he comes into the diner, he wisely comes in the afternoon again, ensuring Henry is there doing his homework. But this time, he tries (and fails) to chat up fellow customers to get a few sales. They seem skeptical of a salesman who looks more like a biker/rock star than someone who peddles used cars. Emma almost laughs when the only single woman in the diner’s face instantly falls when Killian Jones produces his business card and a catalogue. Seems his blue eyes and his smile are powerless against a woman scorned. She huffs as she tosses her tip on the table and exits the diner post haste, leaving a clearly baffled Killian behind.

When Emma approaches his table, he smiles half-heartedly and she feels sorry for him. Once again, he doesn’t try to sell her anything until she fills his coffee mug a second time. That’s when he pulls out a book he thinks Henry might like, all about knights and castles of the Middle Ages. Henry eagerly peruses it, and Emma is a sucker once again. She buys it because Henry loves history so much he’s the only ten year old Emma has ever heard of who was pumped about a weekend trip to Gettysburg. It’s not because of the way Killian Jones swipes his tongue over his lower lip when he’s nervous.

*****************************************************

The next time Killian comes into the diner, Christmas music is playing and a garland of evergreen hangs in loops over the counter. It’s mid-morning, so Henry’s at school. After his second cup of coffee, Killian admits he came when he knew Henry would be at school because he was hoping . . . and then he’s hemming and hawing again, rubbing at his neck and scratching behind his ear. Emma thinks for a split second that he’s trying to ask her out until he pulls his company’s Christmas catalogue out of his bag. She tries to ignore her disappointment when he asks if she’s finished her Christmas shopping yet.

She ends up buying a “Daily Inspirations for Teachers” desk calendar for Mary Margaret and Nicholas Spark’s newest bestseller for David (a guilty pleasure she loves to tease him about). For Granny she gets a book of knitting patterns. Killian pulls out a book he thinks Henry would like: a leather bound book of fairy tales with the title Once Upon a Time embossed in elegant script across the front. Emma knows Henry would love it, but gasps at the price. A forty dollar book is way over her budget, and like the horrible salesman he is, Killian doesn’t push it. She orders two graphic novels for Henry instead, and when she places the order she slides her credit card across the table.

Killian tells her it’s his biggest order to date and smiles so wide Emma is able to confirm her suspicions. There are dimples underneath that scruff. She begins to second guess her assertion that he’s a bad salesman. Because she’s pretty sure he could sell beachfront property in Kansas with those dimples.

*************************************************

In January, Emma is alarmed when a dejected Killian Jones enters the diner and slumps in his usual booth, his head in his hands. Emma decides to stop the charade when she approaches his table.

“You don’t have to wait till your second cup of coffee.”

Killian lifts his face to hers and quirks an eyebrow in confusion, “I’m sorry, love?”

“You know,” Emma says, gesturing with her order pad, “selling me books. What do you have for Henry this time?”

Killian sighs and leans back in the booth, “Alas, Swan, I am no longer in the business. I’m pretty much the worst salesman in the world.”

Emma hates that she chuckles, but she can’t help it, “Yeah, you pretty much sucked.” Killian, thankfully, laughs as well. “I’m glad I was your best customer, then. While it lasted.”

Killian winces, “Actually, love, you were my only customer.”

Emma’s jaw drops at that and her sympathy grows exponentially. She never bought that much, really. She glances around for Granny as she slides into the booth across from him. Although, based on Granny’s reaction to the knitting book (Why don’t you kiss the man already instead of buying all his books?), she doesn’t think she’ll mind.

“Are you okay? I mean, you don’t seem like you’re starving and destitute, so I’m assuming you have another job.”

“Several, actually,” Killian says, drumming his fingers on the table. “My brother and I do seasonal work on the Cape with a boat charter we own.”

“Cape Cod?”

“Aye. The Cape is beautiful in the spring and summer, but in the winter it’s downright depressing. So I like to come here to Boston once we winter the boat. The hustle and bustle is a nice change of pace, and I love city life during the holidays. Plus, like your boy, I’m a bit of a history buff. I work seasonally at the bookstore down the street.”

“So why the direct sales?”

Killian sighs, “A foolish notion. The bookstore only hires me through the end of December. I thought with this second job I could stay in the city until spring,” he shrugs. “Turns out convincing a customer in a bookstore to buy J.M. Barrie’s original Peter Pan instead of the abridged illustrated version is a mite different from selling books all on your lonesome.”

Emma’s heart drops at the implication of what he’s saying. “So what will you do now?”

“Slink back to the Cape with my tail between my legs and help my sister in law at the ice cream shop, as usual.”

So he’s leaving Boston. He’s leaving, and Emma is surprised at how much it disappoints her. “An ice cream place on the cape can make it through the winter?” She almost face palms. Can she sound any more desperate to convince him to stay?

Killian doesn’t seem to pick up on any subtext, thank goodness. “Elsa inherited the place from her aunt. She and her sister helped out there since they were kids. They know how to make it through the lean months. Dull as tombs, though. Yet, as they say, spring will come again!”

Emma tries to smile, but she knows it’s half-hearted. Killian reaches into his bag and pulls out the leather bound book of fairy tales she couldn’t afford at Christmas. Emma arches an eyebrow, “Still trying to make a sale?”

“Oh no, Swan, this is a gift. To thank you.”

“Killian, I can’t accept that. You need to sell off your inventory, or you’ll lose everything you invested.”

Killian chuckles sardonically at that, “Too late for that, Swan. Besides, you’re the only one who ever bought anything, and you know it wasn’t for the books. You felt sorry for me.”

Emma’s face flushes, and she wishes she could tell him that wasn’t it. She’s always despised pity and vowed she’d never doll it out. But how can she explain that while still guarding her heart? Instead, she accepts the leather book and hugs it to her chest, mumbling a soft “thank you.” Killian smiles in return and exits the diner without ever ordering a thing. And she hates the finality of his departure and the possibility that there could have been a them, but now she’ll never know.

She looks down at the book in her hands and notices a little rectangle of cardstock poking out of its pages. She pulls it out, expecting it to be Killian’s Buy the Book business card. Instead, it says Jewel of the Realm Charters with the names Liam and Killian Jones and a phone number. Emma’s heart flips in her chest when she sees that Killian has jotted a note on the back.

I owe you and Henry a free day of sailing. – Killian

The fool still knows nothing about making a profit.

********************************************************

In February, Emma Swan walks into Any Given Sundae along the shores of Cape Cod. She convinced herself there was nothing stalker-ish about her showing up here, but now that the bell is jingling above the door and the blonde woman behind the counter is smiling at her, she’s having second thoughts. Killian had mentioned his sister-in-law’s name, so it’s not like she had to be a private detective or anything to find the place. Still, who drives all the way from Boston to Cape Cod just to visit an ice cream shop? In February?

“May I help you?” asks the blonde, and Emma fiddles with the end of her scarf. She was kind of hoping Killian would just be there when she walked through the door.

“Um . . . I . . .” and she almost laughs thinking of the way Killian would hem and haw when selling her books. She glances around the store. It’s one of those tiny places that beach goers walk in and out of on hot summer days. There are no tables or chairs anywhere in the place. But in the corner a display table has been set up. A display table of books. Emma walks towards it. “You sell books?”

“Oh,” says the blonde – Elsa, she assumes – with a dismissive wave of her hand, “that’s a failed business venture of my brother-in-law’s. Please buy one. I need to get those out of here before tourist season.”

Emma reaches out and runs her fingers along the edges of the books.

“Swan?”

Emma turns to see Killian standing behind the counter with a large tub of ice cream in each arm. He deposits them quickly into their slots behind the glass then comes around to face her. They stand there staring at each other for a few moments, grinning like a couple of idiots.

“Wh-what are you doing here, Swan?” he stutters, and she swears he sounds more nervous than he did when he was trying to sell books.

“Guess it’s too early for that day of sailing, huh?” she teases with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he teases back, “there’s a foot of snow on the ground, Swan.”

Emma bites her lip and fiddles with her scarf again, “Actually, I came to tell you thank you. For Henry’s book. He loves it.”

Killian raises his eyebrows, “You drove all the way out to Cape Cod to tell me that?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes Emma blush, and they just stare at each other again like goofballs. She sees Elsa laugh and shake her head out of the corner of her eye, and she thinks that she couldn’t possibly embarrass herself any more than she already has. So with a roll of her eyes and a screw this, she grabs him by the shirt collar and kisses the living daylights out of him.

He dives back in for more when she finally pulls away, and when Elsa tells them, “Easy there, tigers, you’re gonna melt all the ice cream,” they laugh against each others’ lips.

************************************************************

Two months later, Henry brings his book along when Killian takes them sailing. He reads parts of it out loud to them when Killian lays anchor, and Emma finds that it’s modern versions of classic fairy tales. Snow White is a bandit with a bow and arrows, Red Riding Hood is a werewolf, and Captain Hook is a hero who falls in love with a princess. And Emma thinks that she really likes this story. A pirate and a princess.

But she likes theirs better.

A salesman and a waitress.

Make that a horrible salesman and a waitress.

#cs ff #self promo sunday #cs modern au #fluff #killian as a salesman #a horrible salesman #emma as a waitress #emma and henry

58 notes · View notes

afriendlyboat · 6 years ago

Text

A Timeless Thanksgiving

This is my Timeless Fan Fic Swap/Secret Timeless Birthday Santa gift for @tsuuriki! This is an S.S. Garcy Original Bunker Family Thanksgiving fluff piece.

For the fanfiction purists, this is my first legit fanfic...so please be nice and enjoy.

So heres my warning I see in other fan fics about how we don’t own these characters, but enjoy this jaunt into my head canon.

Rating: PG

Characters: Garcia Flynn, Lucy Preston, Wyatt Logan, Jiya (I just realize she doesn’t have a last name), Connor Mason, Denise Christopher

Parings: Implied eventual Garcy, Implied eventual WyJess, Riya

Trope: Bunker Family, Holiday Fun

Prologue

It’s been seven months since the time team lost Rufus in 1888. Seven months since Future Lucy and Wyatt appeared, bringing with them more questions than answers. They brought with them instructions on how to upgrade the lifeboat allowing the team to cross their own timelines and increasing capacity so that they would be at full force when returning to save Rufus. Their visit was all business, the only information about the future shared were time machine upgrades. This was much to the dismay of Wyatt, who was hoping for reassuring information about his baby, about Jess. And as soon as the team appeared to have the task of upgrading the lifeboat under control, Future Lucy and Future Wyatt were gone.

It was a long, long seven months. Lucy told off Wyatt for the inappropriate “I love you”, for his selfishness in not even offering Lucy condolences after the death of her mother. He realized that Lucy was right and what he was feeling for her wasn’t love, but his own desperation to be loved. He needed to sort things out with Jessica, save his child from Rittenhouse. He needed be the dad he always desired to be, back before his world fell apart.

It was seven months of Connor and Jiya distracting themselves with work, Denise cataloguing Rittenhouse intel, Lucy brushing up on all the history that had changed since they started stomping through time. Flynn and Wyatt cleaned and restored the time team’s weapons. They would sometimes go on clandestine missions out of the bunker. Although they were far from being buddies, they tolerated each other better and complemented each other out in the field. The last seven months were a period of growth, in the wake of pain, for the bunker family and they were a little more than a month away from completing all the necessary upgrades to return to Chinatown.

Seven months of quiet and solemn nights. The emptiness in Wyatt and Jiya’s room was suffocating, reminders of heartbreak and loss. They would occasionally share a drink, late at night, when neither of them could sleep; wordlessly understanding what the other was going through, silently showing support. Lucy and Flynn had grown closer than ever, sharing late night conversations about family and the alterations to history Lucy had discovered during the day. She had moved her bed into Flynn’s room before the team went to 1888 and their relationship was a comfortable unknown. Lucy had not been in the state of mind the last seven months to be romantically intimate with anyone. Like most things between Flynn and Lucy, Flynn understood this fact without it being spoken. He showed restraint and showed his love for her by being present and available, he gave Lucy the space she needed to heal.

These seven months were an emotional gauntlet and the time team desperately needed a break. Something to renew their spirits in spite of all the emotional baggage currently cluttering their underground space.

———————————————————

Chapter 1

November 15, 2018

Garcia Flynn casually waltzed into his and Lucy’s bedroom, hair wet from just taking a shower. He dried his hair aggressively with a towel before shaking his head causing droplets of water to hit Lucy. “Hey!” Lucy objected from the cot on her side of the room, “you got me!” Lucy put her book down and grimaced, she had been reading up on her history. This down time the past months while they upgraded the lifeboat had given her lots of time to catch up on all the changes they accidentally made. Flynn smiled at Lucy and shook his head again, laughing as water flew in her direction. “Sorry,” he said even though he wasn’t really. Flynn was feeling puckish and loved making Lucy squirm, Lucy rolled her eyes even though she enjoyed these little moments. These were the bits of her day where her life felt almost normal.

Flynn flopped down into a chair over by Lucy, “what are you reading?” He asked has he glanced around. “Oh, it’s about the industrial revolution…how industry progressed after we erased Henry Ford and his bloodline from Rittenhouse.” Flynn made a look like ‘Henry had it coming’ when Lucy’s calendar caught his eye. “Lucy, what day is today? Is it the 15th?” “Ummm, yeah…the 15th of November…why?” she replied. “Well, it’s just next week is Thanksgiving!” Lucy grew quiet and a frown crept across her face before she quickly fought it off. “What?” Flynn asked, “Lucy, what’s wrong?” “Nothing, I’m fine” she tried as she looked away. Flynn touched her chin and forced her to look at him, “Lucy, c’mon, I know you better than anyone, I know when you’re not okay.” Lucy softened, “It’s just…Thanksgiving is a time for family, it reminds me of my old life where my Mom would roast a big turkey, and Amy demanded cranberry sauce….but only the kind that kept the shape of the can.” Flynn understood, he thought of Lorena and how they would spend all day in the kitchen and how Iris helped to tear up bread for stuffing while she watched the parade on TV. “Hey, I know how hard it is Lucy, but we have to do something for thanksgiving…Amy and Lorena, they wouldn’t want this….us…sitting around all sad.” Lucy nodded, “ I know it’s just hard.” She took a deep breath, smiled a tight smile and squeezed Flynn’s hand. Flynn winked at her, squeezed her hand back and stood up, not wanting to be too touchy…Lucy was still healing and needed her space. “Hey, I’m about to go to bed, you need anything? Glass of water? Mug of booze?” He smiled playfully with the last suggestion. “Nah, I’m fine but thank you though,” Lucy responded as she smiled, closed her book, and put it on the crate next to her cot that she used as a table. “Alright,” Flynn said as he walked over to his side of the room, sat on his cot and swung his legs into bed. They both laid down and Flynn reached over to turn off his lamp, “Good night, Looce!” “Night, Flynn” with that Flynn reached over and pulled the chain on his lamp, turning off the light. As his head hit the pillow, he thought about how Lucy deserved the best Thanksgiving he could give her in this bunker and how he was going to make it happen.

————————————————————

Chapter 2

November 16th, 2018

Flynn woke up early the next morning. He went straight to the kitchen and made coffee, poured a cup for Lucy and walked it back into their room and left it on her crate. He had been making her coffee every morning since she moved in with him and he liked to make sure it was there ready for her as soon as she woke up. He went back to the kitchen and started rummaging through the pantry, trying to figure out what they had and how he could McGuyver a Thanksgiving meal out it. To his chagrin, the pantry provisions made for a very sad menu. There was a half open box of spaghetti that Wyatt had placed upside down, Flynn discovered this less than ideal orientation of the box when he tried to move it and the uncooked noodles fell out. He rolled his eyes, put the noodles back and placed the box in the correct orientation. He also found peanut butter, a can of corn, a bag of rice, and a bag of English muffins. “Well, here you go Lucy, a thanksgiving just like the one you used to have with your family…complete with corn and rice….pathetic,” Flynn sighed. None of this was going to cut it, not one bit. As he put his findings back in the pantry and moved to shut the door, he heard Agent Christopher clear her throat.

Flynn turned around, “Good Morning Denise, I made coffee.” Flynn pointed to the pot. She smiled and grabbed herself a cup. “Um..Denise, by any chance are you going on a shopping run for us this week?” Agent Christopher turned to Flynn and continued to prepare her coffee, “I can, is there anything specific you need?” Flynn replied casually, “Oh you know just enough stuff to make an entire thanksgiving dinner for the bunker.” Denise looked up, “Oh…well okay, like what?” Flynn continued, “You know…..a turkey, spices, bread, onions, celery…for stuffing, green beans, sweet potatoes, pecans, pie crust, corn syrup, dinner rolls, and um…cranberry sauce in a can.” Denise laughed, “is that all?”. Flynn shrugged snarkily,”Yeah, I mean that should be it…if you could get some wine too that would be excellent.” “Heh.” Denise shook her head at Flynn, “And um how am I going to sneak all of this into our underground bunker?” “I’ll help!” Flynn offered and Denise promptly shut him down, “You’re a wanted terrorist!” Flynn looked at Agent Christopher, slightly defeated, “ I know..it’s just…it’s for Lucy…” Denise raised her eyebrows, “Lucy?” “ Yes,” Flynn replied. “I mentioned Thanksgiving last night and she looked so depressed, it brought up memories of her mother…and Amy…and cranberry sauce in a can.” “I’ll see what I can do,” Denise said with a sincere smile. Flynn nodded and Denise turned in the direction of Connor’s room. Soon he heard Jiya’s door open and the bunker began to rustle as very one got up and got started for the day. Lucy emerged from her and Flynn’s room with her cup of coffee, and shot Flynn a smile. Flynn smiled back and nodded knowing that he was going to be able to give Lucy and the rest of the bunker one day of happiness that everyone desperately needed.

—————————————-

Chapter 3

November 20th, 2018

Everyone in the bunker was hard at work. Connor and Jiya were in the the lifeboat making some final adjustments so the team could jump across their own timeline in a month and rescue Rufus. Wyatt and Flynn had just come back from another recon mission and were putting their putting their gear and guns away. Lucy was studying, marking down more and more history changes that happened to 1888 so that this time the team would be better prepared. It’s was getting late and the team was about to call it quits for the evening when Denise arrived with her arms full of groceries. “Garcia Flynn, you made me buy all this stuff you better help me carry it in,” Denise yelled and everyone looked up. A smile flashed across Flynn’s face as he grabbed the 20lb turkey from her arms, ran to the kitchen, and dropped it in the sink.

The rest of the team followed behind Denise and Flynn, trying to figure out what was going on. “Is that…is that a frozen turkey?” Wyatt asked. Flynn turned to him and cracked, “I know I’m not from this country, but isn’t that what you Americans eat on Thanksgiving.” Wyatt glared at him only mildly appreciating his snark. “Do you even know how to roast a turkey?” Connor then inquired. Flynn shrugged, “how hard can it be, you just plop it in the oven and turn it on.” Wyatt chuckled, “looks like we’re all getting food poisoning.” “Oh shut up, what are you some kind of expert? Do a lot of top-secret ‘Delta Forcing’ in the Army’s galley?” Flynn snarked back. “You guys can call the hotline!” Jiya exclaimed. Everyone looked at her with surprise, she had hardly said a word since they lost Rufus but the idea of a Family-style holiday had brought some life back into the scientist. “Hotline?” Flynn asked. “Yeah the butterball hotline, they used to have commercials for it during the holidays when I was a kid. You could call in with questions and they would give you tips and tricks for cooking the perfect turkey!” Jiya continued. “She’s right, here it is,” Connor confirmed as he spun his laptop around, “They have a chat or you can call 1-800-BUTTERBALL”. Denise cleared her throat, “Well since you all are in hiding, and one of you is an escaped prisoner/wanted terrorist, I suggest you all use the chat option. Now I’m off for the rest of the week, the kids are off from school and I have to cook a Thanksgiving of my own. Good luck.”

As Denise left, the team got back together trying to figure out how to thaw and prepare the turkey. Lucy started removing items from the grocery bag and setting them in the counter. A loaf of bread, green beans, a box of wine, and then she saw it….a single can of jellied cranberry sauce. She set the can down and walked towards Flynn, placing a hand on his shoulder. Flynn turn at the contact and looked down at the petite brunette, “Hey, what’s up,” he asked. Lucy looked him in the eye, stood on her toes, and kissed the giant “terrorist” on the cheek. A tear dropped from her eye as she smiled at him, “Thank you, Garcia.” He stood there frozen as he watched her turn away and go back to unpacking groceries. He smiled, took a deep breath and went back to ‘helping’ Wyatt and Connor fill the sink with water so they could defrost the turkey by Thursday morning. For a moment, they all forgot where they were and just enjoyed feeling like a family.

———————————————————————

Chapter 4

November 22nd, 2018 (Thanksgiving day)

Garcia Flynn woke up to the smell of coffee wafting through his room. As he cracked his eyelid open he could see that a fresh cup was left for him on the shelf next to his cot. He slowly sat up, reached over to grab the cup and take a sip. As the hot liquid passed his lips he grimaced from the bitter taste before smiling to himself..Lucy should never be allowed in a kitchen, ever. But he appreciated the gesture and as he got up he grabbed his cup and continued to drink the hot liquid, knowing that coffee is coffee and the caffeine is necessary for him to be an actual person in the morning. He padded to the bunker where he heard the sound of showtunes blaring from the television. To his surprise, Lucy and Jiya were sitting on the couch, tearing bread for stuffing and watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Flynn took a seat on the arm of the couch and nudged Lucy, she looked up with a smile and he whispered, “thanks for the coffee.” She nodded and went back to tearing bread and watching the parade. Garcia spoke aloud to both the women, “I thought I was supposed to be cooking Thanksgiving dinner, why are you ladies doing all the work?” Jiya replied, “Connor and I got back on the Butterball chat and figured out the stuffing recipe, so Lucy and I figured we’d get a head start on the prep.” Looking behind him he could see Wyatt and Connor fumbling around in the kitchen, everyone was busy trying to do their part to help with dinner. Flynn looked back at the girls and made a crack about Lucy’s kitchen skills, to which she playfully elbowed him before he got up, knowing when to take his leave...before he got himself into actual trouble.

Flynn walked into the kitchen and poured himself another cup of coffee, before approaching Connor and Wyatt. Wyatt looked up and acknowledged the tall Croatian, “This Dinner, asking Denise to go get everything, that was really decent of you..it’s been really rough here these last couple months and this is exactly what everyone needed.” Flynn awkwardly returned, “it was nothing, I know people have to be missing their families” as he stole a glance at Lucy before he continued “i just figured we all deserved a nice meal.” Flynn’s glance at Lucy didn’t escape Wyatts notice and he gave Flynn a knowing look. “Well, I can tell you really care about people and I was wrong months ago to tell you to stay away, you’ve really grown on me now that you aren’t trying to kill us anymore.” Flynn rolled his eyes, “thanks, I’m gonna start seasoning the turkey if you and Connor can manage to put together this pie..the bird has to go in soon if it’s going to be ready by 2.” Wyatt agreed, “Yeah I can do that..I don’t know if pie is really a two man job though..” “I can make the vegetable offerings,” Connor interrupted. “There you go.” Wyatt confirmed and everyone got busy cooking so that dinner would be ready early and everyone could relax for the rest of the day.

By 1:45 the smell of Turkey and sides had filled the bunker as bickering could be heard from the living room where Wyatt wanted to watch the Cowboys game but Jiya wanted to watch Hallmark Christmas movies. Connor was nursing a tumbler of scotch while Lucy napped on the couch with her feet on Flynn’s lap who was enjoying a nap as well. Connor looked up at Wyatt. “Does it really send the best message for a team called the Redskins and a team called the Cowboys to be dueling on a holiday celebrating a shared peaceful meal between Native Americans and European Settlers.” Wyatt rolled his eyes, “Fine. We’ll watch the girly Christmas movies.” Just then the timer went off on the oven, waking Lucy and Flynn up from their respective naps. “Saved by the bell,” Wyatt exclaimed as he got up to check on the turkey.

Flynn groaned and rubbed his eyes as he woke up. Wyatt shouted into the living room, “Flynn, how do we know if this bird is ready?” Flynn looked over, “Uhh….there should be a red button in the turkey, if its popped then it’s ready to come out.” Wyatt looked, “Oh yeah, it’s ready!” and he lifted the Turkey out of the oven and placed it on top of the stove. Lucy, Jiya and Connor got up and started setting the two small tables from the kitchen that they moved together to make one long holiday table. Flynn began to carve the turkey placing the light and dark meat on a serving platter. When Flynn was done carving everyone sat down at the table as a family. Before they ate Jiya acknowledged that although the have all been through alot, that they go around and say one thing that they were thankful for. Lucy grabbed Flynn’s hand under the table and gave it a light squeeze before releasing it to pick up her napkin and place it on her lap. Letting Flynn know silently that although she wasn’t ready to announce it to the table, one of the things he was thankful for was the growing closeness she shared with him. Meanwhile in Wyatt’s pocket he could feel his phone vibrate, he discreetly checked the screen to see a text from his wife, “Happy Thanksgiving.” He drew a deep breath and cracked a small smile at the comfort that not all was lost, that maybe there was a little bit of hope that when this was all over, he, Jess and his unborn son could possibly be a family again.

When everyone was done saying their thanks, the team dug in to the spread of food on the table. Flynn noticed that something was missing and abruptly stood up, alarming Lucy. He walked into the kitchen and returned with a can opener and the can of cranberry sauce on a plate. He opened the can, shook the jellied cranberry onto a plate and placed it in front of Lucy. “We can’t forget the most important part!” Lucy glowed at the sight of the cranberry sauce and all the memories of her lost sister, like the others she remembered with every bite of the Thanksgiving meal why they must continue to fight Rittenhouse, all the important things that they needed to preserve.

Later that night when everyone retired to their rooms after an afternoon of eating and movies, Lucy sat and waited at the edge of Flynn’s bed. She smiled as he walked in, fresh from the shower and shook his head like always hitting her with the clean water from his hair. “Garcia?” Lucy said, and the tall man froze and looked at Lucy intensely, not accustomed to people using his first name anymore. “Thank you for today, I mean really thank you.” He smiled at her and answered, “It was nothing, I wanted to,” as he sat on his bed and swung his legs behind the historian so he could lay down. “I mean it Garcia, thank you for helping me save some of my memories, from when life was more...normal.” Flynn touched her hand, “Well you saved my life, it’s the least I could do.” Lucy exhaled and laid down next to Flynn on his cot, “would it be okay if i slept right here tonight?” Flynn wordlessly wrapped his arm around the small historian in a chaste embrace and closed his eyes, knowing that Lucy was still healing and this small step was all she was ready for. “Happy Thanksgiving, Garcia.” Flynn exhaled and whispered as he fell asleep, “Happy Thanksgivng, Looocy.”

#timeless #Timeless fanwork exchange #garcy #Wyjess #Bunker family #Thanksgiving #Post Chinatown #ssgarcy #i will go down with this ship

20 notes · View notes