#*3 hours later* “i now understand why i haven’t drawn them kissing yet”

[horse-head-farms]

hermitcraft season 8 spoilers

[elldell1204]

Hair Me Out - Spencer Reid x Reader

Y/N wears her hair in many different styles, and her boyfriend, Spencer, seems to appreciate each one in different ways.

A/N: So, I just wanted to add, I try to make my ‘reader’ as ambiguous as possible, that way you can identify with them more. However, I struggled with this one, as I am a white female with straight hair and not much knowledge of (though deep appreciation and love for) natural or curly hair, seeing as I have little to no experience. Therefore, I have tried making this as inclusive as possible but I’m sorry if at any point seems too specific and you can’t put yourself into the story. Feel free to call me out on anything you aren’t comfortable with!

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, swearing, normal Criminal minds stuff (let me know if I missed anything)

wc - 3,217

Dutch Braids -

You and Spencer had just gotten off from work about an hour ago after a gruelling day with an equally stressful case. Which is why as soon as you were both showered, dressed in the comfiest clothes you could find and waiting for the takeout to arrive, you were both sprawled out on the couch in front of a movie, having no energy left to talk, let alone move when there was a knock at the door. Seeing as you were the one with less of the other person’s body parts draped across you, you got up and answered while Spencer didn’t move an inch. You couldn’t blame him; the poor boy was exhausted.

Around twenty minutes later, you’d both eaten, leaving your plates on the coffee table in front of you with the mental promise to wash them later, and were back to snuggling into each other, getting as close as you possibly could to soothe each other after the day you had. Your head was tucked neatly into Spencer’s chest, your knees drawn up to near your chin in the foetal position, making yourself as small as possible. Spencer was the opposite; spread like a starfish with his arm around your back and his head rested against the back of the couch.

If someone were to ask you what the movie was about, you wouldn’t have a clue where to start. Truth is, you felt like you were stuck in-between both the lands of sleep and consciousness, due to wanting to spend some time with your boyfriend (despite him being your work partner for the best part of sixteen hours) but also wanting to sleep for three days. In attempt to make yourself just a little bit more awake, you started trying to focus on different things around you. First it was the quote on the front of the main character’s t-shirt, then it was the Metro you could faintly hear as the last train of the night rattled by, then it was Spencer’s finger tracing up and down one of your braids that you’d done quickly after your shower.

“Spence?” You murmured the first words spoken in practically an hour.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response, his half-lidded eyes shifting to your face that you had lifted to face him.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” His voice was merely a whisper, and if you weren’t listening for it, the only way you’d know he was speaking was from the vibration of his chest.

You gestured to your hair with your finger, and only when he realised did he stop what he was doing and chuckle lightly and dreamily.

“Oh, sorry, I’m not sure, it just feels soft, I guess. I’ll stop.”

“No, no, it’s okay, you can keep going.” You smiled at him, mustering up the energy to lean up and press a sweet kiss to his lips before retracting back to your previous position.

Ponytail -

To say you were having a bad day was an understatement. You usually like to try and stay as positive as you could be when chasing a serial, paedophilic murderer, but there’s only so many deep breaths and coffee breaks you can take before you really start to get pissed off. Not only had you been stuck in hot and sticky Texas for near a week, but you had also been put into single rooms at the hotel you were staying at. Now, not to sound ungrateful (because you very much are of the fact that you at least have a roof over your head), but only having one single bed to a room means that you can’t snuggle with Spencer after a long day, and these were proving to be very long days.

And to add to the problem, Hotch was constantly on edge since the start of the case, with the victims looking a hell of a lot like Jack, and when you were the closest person to him on that first day when his tensions finally boiled over, you had been the one in the firing line of his rage. Which you can take. You knew he didn’t mean it, and if he had to take his frustrations out on someone for a few days so he could do his job with a clearer head, you were happy to be the target.

But now after a particularly rough six days, your patience was wearing thin, and everyone on the team could see it, which is why they offered you and Spencer any jobs they were assigned that would get them out of the stifling police precinct. And you knew they had good intentions, but even that was starting to annoy you.

So now you were sat at the table in the conference room, a pen between your teeth as your eyes frantically search over the evidence you have piled in front of you, desperate for the answers to this case to fly off the page and hit you smack dab in the forehead so you could just go home and have a fight with a pillow or something, anything to destress.

You heard the footsteps coming from the doorway, but you refused to turn around. If it was Hotch, you swear to god you might actually lose your job with what you were thinking of doing if he was short with you one more time. If it was Morgan ready to hand you a first-class ticket to visit the slightly wrinkly and very smelly coroner again, you might actually flip the table.

“Hey, Y/N.” Spencer greeted you warmly, sitting on the table to your right as your eyes slowly lifted to meet his. No, not Spencer. Hold it together, Y/N, hold in your rage, he’s done nothing wrong. “Oh, I haven’t seen you with your hair tied back in a while. I like it.”

Such a sweet statement, and yet it broke you. You could see in his face the moment your eyes lit aflame with anger, and you couldn’t miss the harsh swallow he took to brace himself for your fury.

“Well, Dr Reid, let me teach you a lesson, shall I? 3 reasons. One, it is way more practical for kicking someone’s ass, and right now, I would love nothing more than catching the sleazy son-of-a-bitch who is deriving pleasure from this,” You gesture violently to the crime scene photos splayed out in front of you before continuing to spit your venom. “And beating the living shit out of him until he’s crying out for his mommy. Two, do you know how many officers have tried to flirt up a storm with me in the past week? Way too many to count on one fucking hand! One even went so far as to try stroking my hair like a goddamn cat, and so to avoid that situation, I have put it in a ponytail, because if anything of that nature happens again, I won’t hesitate to break someone’s arm. And three, I usually have it down because most men think you’re dumber when you play with your hair, or I can play seductive to get what I want without a warrant fifty percent of the time. But seeing as we have absolutely nobody on the suspect list right now, and the sheer fury I possess at this moment, I don’t foresee the possibility of me needing to be either of those things, do you?”

Your lungs were heaving once you were done, and poor Spencer looked like you just told him you were a Russian spy sent to kill him. Your eyes were locked onto each other’s, and when you came back to reality from your rant, you recognised the softness and love in his that you were grateful for every day. Granted, they were a little masked by fear right now, but you’d admired him often enough to be able to spot even the faintest hint of your favourite emotions.

You let out a deep sigh, signalling you were back to your normal self as much as you could be right then, before dropping your head into your hands to rub your eyes with the heel of your palms.

It was then you felt the unmistakeable warmth of Spencer’s hand rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you gathered yourself together, bringing tears to your eyes as you opened them once more to face him.

“Oh, Spencer,” You whispered, grabbing his hands tightly with yours, lifting them to your lips and pressing sweet kisses to his knuckles. “I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

“It’s okay, my love.”

“No, it’s really not. I never should have raised my voice at you, especially when it’s not your fault at all that I’m frustrated.”

“Y/N, I understand.” He smiled at you, a small and sympathetic one, but it calmed you nonetheless as he stood, pulling you up from the chair to wrap his arms tightly around you. You gripped onto him like he might run away if you didn’t, breathing in the warm scent that is so unmistakeably Spencer. Your vision was now cloudy with the tears that so desperately wanted to spill, but you were adamant you wouldn’t give the local cops the satisfaction of seeing you with wet cheeks. Luckily, Spencer knows you better than anyone.

“There’s a park a few minutes’ walk from here with a small duck pond. Would you like some fresh air?”

You nodded frantically against his neck as you finally let go, allowing him to lead you out of the precinct, hand in hand, his thumb running softly over yours as you walked.

“I don’t deserve you.” You mumbled, leaning in closer to him as you carried on down the path.

“Nonsense,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “We deserve each other. Just remind me not to get on your bad side; I like having both of my arms functional.”

Bed Head -

A blaring alarm at 6am has to be up there with one of the most annoying things on the planet, and I work with Derek Morgan. You let out a groan, your arm floundering around to find the source of the wretched noise. Groaning in defeat of not being able to do it with your eyes closed, you cracked one open, locating your phone, and finding sweet relief in the snooze button. A very overexaggerated yawn left your lips as you attempted to stretch your arms over your head in an effort to wake up, only to find one immobilised in the grasp of your boyfriend.

You took advantage the rare opportunity of waking up before Mr Alarm Clock himself (also known as Dr Spencer Reid) by allowing yourself a few minutes to admire his form in the golden sliver of sunlight escaping the outside world through the gap in the curtains. It was only when your alarm went off again after the five-minute snooze timer did you try to wake him up.

“Spence, baby, time to wake up.” You whisper, attempting to gently coax him from his slumber. When that didn’t work, you laced your fingers through his mousy-brown curls, scratching lightly at his scalp, just how he likes. Only then did you receive a response in the form of a muffled groan into his pillow.

“C’mon, my love. We need to get ready for work.” You spoke softly, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead.

You chuckled lightly, wrapping your arms around his torso as your legs entwined. “Okay, my sleepy darling. But only five.”

“Mmm, five more minutes.” He mumbled, nestling his face into your hair as he pulls you closer than you thought possible.

Safe to say you took breakfast to go, just so you could bask in each other’s embraced for a little longer than five minutes.

Post-Sex Hair -

You climbed from his lap gently, unsure if your legs could hold yourself up as you panted heavily. Practically throwing yourself down beside Spencer on the bed, he took the opportunity to grab your hand, lacing your fingers with his as you laid your head on his chest. You were both still a little dreamlike in your post-orgasmic haze, and when Spencer began to press kiss after kiss into your hair, you didn’t hesitate to enjoy them.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered into your hair, punctuating his statement with a final kiss for good measure.

You looked up from your position, shifting slightly so you were face to face, and scrunched up your nose. “Really? Even with sweaty sex hair?”

He chuckled, and you followed with a giggle of your own as he leant over to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Especially with sweaty sex hair.” He whispered with a joking edge to his voice, his lips brushing with yours.

“Well, I’m pretty sure the team wouldn’t love my sweaty sex hair, so I better hop in the shower.” You smiled, kissing him quickly once more before climbing out of the bed and walking towards the bathroom, a sway to your hips.

As you reached the door, you turned to shoot a smirk over your shoulder at the blissed-out boy behind you. “Oh, are you not joining me?”

You swear you’d never seen the boy move as fast as when he clambered from the bed and chased you into the bathroom.

Straightened -

There was something about going undercover that equally excited you and creeped you out. Especially tonight, when you were having to go under in a club to catch a guy who was killing adulterous wives. You were the closest person in the team to his type, so it was a no-brainer to choose you, really. Didn’t mean you were happy with it, and it seemed that Spencer wasn’t either, if his clenched jaw was anything to go by.

Well, you were going to do it no matter what, so why not get yourself dressed up and try to bring some joy back to a less than ideal situation? That is why you were stood in the locker room of a precinct on the west coast in a red crushed velvet minidress with black heels, a fake wedding ring and straightened hair, and you couldn’t lie, you were totally feeling yourself.

“Woah, Y/N, you look…amazing.” You heard Spencer say as he entered the room.

You turned your head and smiled at him, feeling a little flustered as his eyes trailed over your form. You attempted to push your dress further down your thighs as he walked to you, his hands encircling your waist from behind and his head perched on your shoulder.

“It’s not too much is it?” You mumbled, looking down at yourself to do a final once over.

You felt his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to look him in the eyes through the mirror, ones filled with love and a hint of desire that set your skin aflame. He brushed your hair aside from your neck to trail kisses down the side of your throat, eliciting a breathy sigh from your lips.

“No, Y/N, you look badass.”

You giggled at the word that seemed so foreign coming from Spencer, but that was soon muffled when he spun you around by his hands on your hips and his lips hungrily met yours. Your lips moved against each other’s, his tongue coming to swipe at your bottom lip in a request for entrance. You granted it, and soon you felt your back collide with the cool metal of the lockers. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt as you explored his mouth with your tongue, relishing in the taste of him. You laced a hand up into his hair as you felt a hand that he had at your waist moving to your ass, gripping it roughly, causing you to moan into his mouth.

“Reid? Y/L/N? You two lovebirds ready?” You heard Morgan mock from the doorway and you both immediately jumped apart like some sort of invisible wall had shot up between you.

Looking around to see that Morgan wasn’t in your eyeline, given that the lockers luckily blocked you two from his view. But not from earshot, seeing as you could quite clearly hear his hearty chuckles as his footsteps got quieter and quieter.

You looked up at Spencer, his hair dishevelled and his tie askew, a look of both embarrassment and amusement at being caught making out like two horny teenagers adorned his face. A grin broke out on your lips, which he mirrored, and soon you were both laughing hysterically as you sorted yourselves out in the tiny little mirror on the wall, attempting to make it look like you weren’t a few seconds away from tearing each other’s clothes off, before re-joining the team in the conference room.

Messy Bun -

Ugh, cold and flu season. You swear you never make it through it unscathed. And it seems as if your battle was commencing today. You woke up feeling dreadful; runny nose, scratchy throat, constant sneezing, and red-rimmed eyes. Attractive.

There was no question in having to call in sick, so after throwing your hair up in the messiest of messy buns and locating the snuggest blanket, you dialled the number. You could practically hear the wince from Hotch when you started having a sneezing fit down the phone. Now you weren’t sure if you could look the man in the eye when you went back.

Once that torture was over and done with, you were feeling sorry for yourself and decided on a warm cup of tea and a dose of shitty daytime television. You were halfway through some over-enthusiastic talk show when you heard a knock at your door. Refusing to leave the blanket behind that you’d burrito’d yourself in, you shuffled over to the door.

You didn’t expect a very sympathetic looking Spencer on the other side of the door, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a welcomed sight.

“Hey.” You croaked out.

“Hi. How are you feeling?” You gave him a look that said it all, and he chuckled lightly. He lifted the bag he had in his hand. “I brought the best cure I could think of; chicken noodle soup.”

“I don’t want to get you sick, Spencer.” You whined, wanting nothing more than to curl up into his side but holding onto your selfless and rational thoughts by a mere thread.

You smiled at that, stepping aside to let him in. He passed you and went and got comfortable on your couch, grabbing a fork on the way. When you met him in the living room, he was ready and waiting for you with his arms open for you to snuggle into.

“Don’t worry about me. Now come on, your soup is getting cold.” He smiled, making grabby hands at you.

You made your way over, sinking into his embrace as he passed you the container and your fork. After a few mouthfuls and several minutes of listening to his steady breaths and thumps of his heart, you were feeling much better.

“Thank you.” You mumbled once you were finished and had placed your empty container on the coffee table in front of you, nuzzling further into Spencer’s chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Didn’t have to tell you twice.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Clingy

As I mentioned in my asks today where I was gushing about Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch, it’s about time for another clip of my fanfic novelization of this lovely game!

It’s been a while since I showed a clip of Step 3, so here is a slice from Errands! Thank you to @gb-patch​ and everyone else who enjoy seeing me gush and write about Cove and Jamie! You all make me so happy I cannot even!

Oh, and since this is Step 3 content, spoiler warning for those who haven’t played this far in the game yet.

...

Liz folded her arms over her chest and let out an amused chuckle. “We couldn’t have picked a more perfect trip. It’s been too long since we’ve had a true family outing.” She then gave a pointed look to her little sister and the baby boyfriend for emphasis.

The three parents laughed approvingly at the familiar joke. Jamie rolled her eyes at their mirth and the teasing note to her older sister’s tone even as she fought to keep from smiling herself. Her favorite next door neighbors had joined the Leimomis on this outing, which was what made it a ‘true family outing’ as Liz put it.

Cove offered Jamie a sympathetic smile when their eyes met. Some things never changed and some jokes never died, especially when it came to teasing them about their relationship. It was something they had both long since accepted. The fact that they had been holding hands since they left the cars behind naturally didn’t help lessen such teasing, but neither of them felt inclined to let go of each other.

Jamie finally allowed herself to smile as she squeezed his hand a little, her smile only widening when Cove returned the gesture. Teasing aside, she was bubbling with anticipation to explore the market and see what sort of hidden gems they might uncover. Sure, that meant wading through a sea of people to find them, but she wasn’t alone, so she didn’t pay them any mind.

The idea of spending a day traversing through such a dense crowd of strangers was not something Cove looked forward to, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with them by himself. He could tune them out as long as he had Jamie by his side. Seeing her so animated with excitement as she looked around raised his spirits, and when she smiled at him, it was like the world around them no longer mattered anymore.

Cliff turned to the group as he clapped his hands together, the sound catching everyone’s attention. “Well, I’m ready to get started. I’ve got plenty of dishes in mind I could use ingredients for.”

It was easy to see that everyone held the same sentiment. Noelani and Pamla were especially excited as they shared a conspiratorial smile with one another.

“Yes, that’s a very good idea, Cliff,” Noelani said cheerfully as she turned back to the others. “This place is much larger than it seems. It’s difficult to visit each part in a single day.”

Such a challenge did nothing to diminish Cliff’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure we can make a decent dent together at least.”

“Actually…,” Noelani said as she let her gaze wander to the rest of the group. “Since there are so many of us this time, we could take different sides of the market.”

For a second, Jamie swore she saw a hint of mischief in Pamela’s eyes before her mom turned away to look at the stalls.

“Divide and conquer, eh?” Pamela said. “That sounds brilliant.”

The suggestion took the rest of the group by surprise. No one else had considered splitting up to be an option.

Pamela flashed the group a dazzling smile to banish any misgivings there were towards the idea. “Though, it’s a little unfair that there are four Leimomi family members and only two Holdens here, so I’ll go with you boys to even out the odds.”

“That’s fine with me,” Noelani said cheerfully.

Despite the upbeat attitude and smiles Noelani and Pamela showed the group, it was clear that they were the only ones excited for the idea. Liz pursed her lips in a frown, her brow furrowing, but she kept her mouth shut. By contrast, Jamie’s mouth hung open in a small ‘o’ of surprise. Cliff awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and his gaze wandered aimlessly, as he found himself at a loss for where to look or what to say. Neither was a problem his son had.

Cove tightened his hold on Jamie’s hand reflexively, drawing her attention to his frowning face. The grip wasn’t anywhere near painful, but it made his thoughts on them being separated crystal clear even before he spoke up. “I don’t like that idea.”

Noelani was nonplussed by the resistance, smiling at Cove despite his obvious disapproval. “Don’t worry, we’ll be apart for only a few hours, and then we’ll have something to talk about at the end of it.”

Cove wasn’t especially convinced. He had never been comfortable with plans being changed without notice, especially when he wasn’t even consulted about the change. Unfortunately, he could already tell that this was a battle that he wasn’t going to win. He could be stubborn with his own parents or peers, but when it came to the Leimomi matrons, he couldn’t dig in his heels with only the argument that he didn’t want to be separated from Jamie. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he let out a sigh. Reluctantly, he nodded and released his girlfriend’s hand.

Liz let out a thoughtful hum and shrugged off her confusion. “Alright,” she said, her frown melting away into an easy smile. “I don’t get the point, but I also don’t mind spending the first part of the trip with Jamie and Ma.

Delighted, Noelani clapped her hands together in a brief show of cheer. “Wonderful. Are the teams ready to go?”

Like her sister, Jamie didn’t understand why their moms thought splitting up was a good idea. The entire point of both of their families going to the farmers’ market together was to enjoy each other’s company, wasn’t it? Splitting the group in half felt like splitting the fun in half too.

Actually, it would be even less than that if they expected Jamie and Cove to spend the day apart when they could be together.

If this was going to happen regardless of any of their opinions on the matter, Jamie knew that she had to at least suggest a compromise. “Can I be the one who goes with the Holdens instead?”

Jamie clasped her hands together as she looked between her moms hopefully. They would understand why she wanted to spend the day with Cove, right? He just got back from Nevada, and after he had been gone a long time to boot. It felt almost cruel to spend a day apart from one another when they didn’t have to.

Cove immediately perked up at the suggestion, his defeated frown turning into a hopeful smile of his own.

Unfortunately, the expressions Noelani and Pamela wore were not promising. Noelani pouted at their youngest daughter while Pamela merely shook her head with a grin.

“Sorry,” Pamela said. “No can do this time, kiddo.”

Jamie saw not even a flicker of reluctance between her parents, and the disappointment on Noelani’s face, however played up to keep the mood light, made her feel a twinge of guilt for suggesting she leave her ma’s group. Her shoulders sagged in surrender as a quiet sigh escaped her. “We won’t be split up too long, right?” she asked weakly.

A cheerful smile returned to Noelani’s face as she moved to her youngest’s side and wrapped an arm around Jamie in a little side hug. Her comforting gesture was rewarded with a lopsided smile from her daughter. “Yes, thank you, Jamie.”

With things finally settled, Pamela walked over towards Cove and Cliff, grinning in spite of the confused looks they still sent their way. “Come on, boys, we’re heading out.”

“Sure,” Cliff said.

“Okay,” Cove said with far less enthusiasm than Pamela. This trip had suddenly become a lot more of a chore than it started off as.

His gaze then turned to Jamie, and he offered her a soft smile when her eyes met his. He was drawn towards his girlfriend, stopping just short in front of her. The smile he wore wavered as he hesitated to leave. “Bye,” he said quietly, unable to hide the note of regret from his voice.

Jamie was no more thrilled to separate than Cove was, but she managed to offer him a small smile in return anyway. “Bye.”

Cove took his girlfriend’s hand in his once more and gave it a gentle squeeze, which Jamie returned. Her smile grew just a little stronger at his attempt to reassure her, which raised his spirits as well. He then dipped his face towards her for a parting kiss, his cheeks warming as his eyes drifted closed.

Jamie started to close her eyes as well in anticipation of the kiss, only to notice Cove suddenly jerk to a halt stiffly a few inches away from her.

The reason why became immediately clear as Cove twisted his head around to stare back at Pamela with wide eyes. She had seized the hem of his shirt and physically held him back. She gave another firm tug, urging him upright before letting go.

“No, no, no,” Pamela chided with a wide grin on her face as she wagged a finger at Cove. “Time’s a wastin’, Cove, and I’ve known you long enough to be aware that you’re one to linger. If I don’t stop you now, you’ll only drag your feet on parting ways more.” Her smile then turned mischievous as she shifted her gaze from him to Jamie and back again. “The two of you can snuggle and make out as much as you want later. We have important shopping to do now.”

Jamie felt her face grow hot from being called out so publicly by her mom. Cove outright gasped at Pamela, completely taken aback by what felt like a truly obscene thing for her to say.

Once Cove overcame the initial shock, he forced himself to ignore how fiercely his cheeks burned as he made an unimpressed show of rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to literally pull me away from Jamie. I’m not that clingy.”

Pamela made no effort to hide her snickering as she shook her head wryly.

The reaction wasn’t one Cove expected. He raised his eyebrows at her before he looked over at Noelani. However, the other Mrs. Leimomi refused to look him in the eye as she whistled in a supposedly ‘innocent’ manner.

Cove noticed the look Liz sent his way, particularly the sly smirk she wore that stretched from ear to ear. He whipped his head around towards his dad next. Cliff met his gaze, but could only offer a lopsided smile and an apologetic shrug.

It was only then when it dawned on Cove - everyone really thought he was that needy.

Finally, Cove dared turn to face Jamie, his eyes wide and pleading with the desperate hope that at least she didn’t agree as well.

To his relief, the look Jamie gave him was a sympathetic one. She then leveled a stern gaze to the rest of the group, folding her arms across her chest. “Cove is totally capable of being independent when he wants to be,” she said in a very matter of fact tone.

After all, Cove had recently traveled to Nevada by himself for weeks. Willingly separating from her for that long was the exact opposite of clingy. In fact, that was all the more reason for them to enjoy each other’s company as much as possible now. There was no reason for them to poke fun at her boyfriend for wanting to show her affection. How they expressed their feelings for one another was no one else’s business but theirs.

Unfortunately, it seemed that no one else saw it that way, and her attempt at chastising them for their teasing was met with a few snickers from her family. Unlike them, Jamie was not amused.

Cove, on the other hand, beamed at having his girlfriend’s support. Without thinking, he took a step towards Jamie, feeling drawn to her once more. Also, once more, Pamela snatched the back of his shirt, freezing him in his tracks.

Pamela attempted to suppress the urge to laugh, but a few chuckles escaped her anyway. “Actions speak louder than words.”

Caught newly embarrassed all over again, Cove struggled to come up with something to say in his defense. His mouth twisted and his cheeks reddened as he looked sideways at their families, who were having way too much amusement at his expense. “Yeah, well…” After a few moments of struggling, he finally had to look away with a frustrated huff. “So what?”

That admission had their parents and Liz bursting into laughter, much to Cove’s mortification.

Jamie felt her irritation grow when everyone started laughing at Cove. “Yeah, so what?” she said in a challenging tone. Before anyone could make what she was certain would be another teasing retort, she closed the distance between herself and her boyfriend. She cupped his cheek to turn his face back towards her and stole a kiss from his lips before her mom could stop them a third time.

Cove barely had a moment to register the kiss before it ended. It was so brief that he hadn’t had the chance to really enjoy it, much to his regret. He could only stare wide-eyed at Jamie as she moved back from him, though involuntarily, as this time it was Noelani pulling her back by the shirt.

“I believe you were saying something about being independent?” Noelani said, though her chiding didn’t come across as particularly authoritative since she was chuckling as she said it.

Jamie was unrepentant for her act of defiance, her grin wide and proud, though she did step back at her ma’s prompting, if only to spare her shirt from further punishment. “Cove is, but I didn’t say anything about myself,” she said wryly. That comment along with her little display set off another round of laughter from the group, but it was worth it.

 Pamela shook her head with a wide grin. “I don’t know about that, but I think we both better keep the kids on a short leash if we want a chance of getting any shopping done before nightfall, ‘Lani.” She gave a little tug on Cove’s shirt for emphasis, much to his chagrin.

“I think you’re right,” Noelani giggled as she kept her grip on Jamie’s shirt firm.

Cove didn’t have any further defense for himself or Jamie, not with the way everyone was having way too much fun at their expense. Grimacing, he strode several feet from the group, his face red all the way to his ears. He wanted to move on from this teasing, even if it meant physically moving on and away from her. At least Pamela let him go despite her idle threat to keep him on a leash.

Seeing Cove start to leave washed the taste of victory from Jamie’s mouth, but she just had to accept it. “I’ll see you soon,” she called after him. When he glanced back at her, she smiled softly at him and gave him a little wave.

Despite how Cove still burned with embarrassment, the reminder that he had Jamie’s support helped him relax a bit. He nodded at her ever so slightly as he pulled his mouth into a bent smile.

“See you in a few hours!” Pamela said as she gave her wife and daughters a cheery wave.

“Take care of yourselves,” Cliff said with a nod of his head.

With that, the groups were divided. Pamela picked a direction and set a course for destinations unknown, leading the Holden men who followed not far behind her.

Noelani gave the departing group a grin and waved enthusiastically with her whole arm. By contrast, Liz gave a much more dainty wave of her own.

Jamie continued to wave goodbye as she watched Cove disappear with his dad and her mom into the dense crowd. Because of his height, she could still spot glimpses of his pale green hair for a little while, but all too quickly even that small sign of him was lost from view.

As her arm fell limply to her side, Jamie tried to banish all the negative feelings she had towards this turn of events. Sure, this wasn’t what she wanted, but that didn’t mean the trip couldn’t still be fun. Sure, it sucked that she wasn’t going to explore the market with her boyfriend, and that was the thing she was looking most forward to and now, poof, that wasn’t happening… but she would see him in a few hours. It was silly to feel sad or let down that they wouldn’t all be traveling together.

It wasn’t as though she was actually clingy like she joked.

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 3 ~A Christmas Request~

Previously in It's her Cue ...

 A tiny fraction of the playfulness displayed on his face was replaced by uncertainty ...and Claire's stomach coiled at the proof he wasn't prepared to act on the attraction between them. Whatever his reason was, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know as her guard began to scramble back into place. Oh, God, how could I be so dim? Maybe he's got a girlfriend or a wife ...

"Arbroath Smokies."

Stunned, she looked at him. "Wot?"

"Have ye eaten?"

"Uh, um ...not since midday."

"Weel, hard to fall in love with ..." He took a huge deep breath. "...Broch Mordha on an empty stomach."

"Huh?"

That playful smile was back on his face. "Have ye tried Arbroath Smokies?"

"No. I don't even know what that is."

"Ye have to try it. I know just the place." Jamie glanced over his shoulder. "Come on, let's have a quick drink with Willie and Annalise so we can get out of here." 

And then just like that, he wove his fingers through hers and tugged her towards the bar.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

 Jamie stiffened and stopped in his tracks when he felt a slight hesitation in Claire's movement. Is she having second thoughts? He glanced back at her and saw her eyes dropped to their intertwined hands and chewed her lower lip. "Changed yer mind?" he asked softly, his thumb caressing the knuckles of her hand without conscious volition. "I ken Arbroath smokies is not everyone's cuppa tea. We can have something else if ye wish."

She shook her head. "No. It's not that." She took a step closer, and he caught a whiff of her floral scent. Her nearness made the tension in his chest become like a drawn bow like there was an arrow precariously pointing into his heart. But the feel of her skin beneath his fingers was potent enough to mute the warning voices in his head. 

"What is it then, Sassenach?"

"I have something to ask you," she whispered, her eyes darting sideways, seemingly conscious of the watchful eyes around them. 

When she drew her hand from his hold, the loss of touching her skin made a hollow yawn at the pit of his belly.

He ignored the uneasiness he felt and swallowed hard. "Ye can ask me anything."

 Her cheeks blossomed into a pretty shade of scarlet. "I just want to make sure there's no misunderstanding." 

"What's on yer mind?"

"This is a small village, and I understand how everyone talks about everyone's business here. I ...um, don't want to step on anyone's toes while I'm here on holiday. You're not married or involve with anyone by any chance, are you?"

He felt the tension on his back ease, and he leaned back to look at her beautiful face. He wondered what it would be like to have her as his. Would a lass like her be content living in a hamlet like Broch Mordha, where the terrain, although naturally beautiful often described as a dismal place to live in because of the weather and remoteness? "No." A city girl like her would probably have a difficult time settling in the Highlands. "There's nae lass in my life." He forced a smile. "And never been married. How about ye?"

Her mouth opened then closed, and her brow wrinkled. "No. No boyfriend. I haven't been out with anyone for a long time."

He arched an eyebrow. "Really?" Were the men in London blind or what? "Why is that? Too focused on yer career to let anyone in yer life?"

"No. It's not that." Her eyes lowered to half-mast and settled on his chin. He almost lost it right there and then. Ah, Christ! If she's going to keep staring at him like that, he'd probably end up throwing her over his shoulders and taking her home. "I just haven't met anyone who..." her voice trailed off.

"...took yer breath away?" he finished the sentence off for her.

A slow smile spread across her face, making her eyes bright and opalescent. "Something like that," she replied.

He stared at her for a while, and a silent understanding passed between them, one that made him realised that she was very aware of their connection.

Jamie laughed inwardly but without humour. Everything about this lass so far lined her up as the perfect woman for him. How was that even possible that he felt the way he did after only a short period? He pressed his lips tight together, knowing that kind of thinking would only bring him grief.

She'd agreed to go out with him, and he would enjoy her company for what it was. It was a fruitless endeavour worrying about what he would do when it was time for her to go, and he would rather die before pressuring someone like her to stay. He'd done that before, and all it brought him was heartache and distress. She'd said she wanted to be a writer, but she wasn't ready to give up London just yet. This vibrant and intelligent lass had the fucking world at her disposal and her pick of better suited men who could give her the life she's used to, and he wasn't about to be the one to get in the way of those possibilities.

But it was too late to distance himself from this attraction, so Jamie made a deal with himself. One that made his throat contract and dread of the unknown take root. He'd allow himself to enjoy whatever time he had with Claire and be a perfect host and show her the best of what living in Broch Mordha had to offer. If she decided that it wasn't enough to make her stay to explore this connection between them, he'd force himself to accept it. Going to the city and living in one was no option for him, no matter how much he wanted the lass. He tried it before, but ever since he returned from his deployment in Iraq, he couldn't handle the big crowd and loud noises in the city. It made him freeze on the spot and brought back the nightmares and horrors of the Middle East war. He was more at peace here in the Highlands, where he'd already made a life for himself.

Reluctantly, he took a step back away from her. He had to. Otherwise, he'd end up kissing her in front of these people. "So ye're still in for that Arbroath smokies?"

"Of course," she murmured, visibly shaking herself. "I'd love that."

He laced their fingers together once more, unable to stop himself from brushing his lips against her knuckles and uncaring of the gossips he was sure was already spreading like wildfire. When she squeezed his hand in response, he felt weightlessness for the first time in a long time in the depths of his soul. That's when he knew he had his work cut out ahead of him. He cleared the sudden clutter in his throat and gave her his best smile. "Let's go then, Sassenach."

..........

After a round of drinks, Jamie and Claire left Annalise and Willie in the pub to their game of pool and darts. And Jamie was more than happy with the arrangement as he wanted to be alone with Claire.

His steps were light as he led her down the cobbled street, pointing out numerous historic residences and structures on the way. She listened intently, her inquisitive nature surprising him with her enthusiasm to learn more about his birthplace. But as soon as she heard the holiday jingle streaming in the background, her eyes lit up like a child, and she stared straight ahead. Right before them, at the town centre, was Broch Mordha's famous Christmas fair, festively illuminated and a sea of red, green and gold.

To Jamie's amusement, Claire tugged his hand, urging him to walk faster. When they finally got there, the quaint Church Street was bustling with activity. While vendors busily sold their goods, families strolled together, some pushing prams and some walking their dogs. Teenagers walked in groups, laughing and singing at the top of their lungs. Elderly couples wandered hand in hand, stopping now and again to admire the colourful goods on display. The booths bordering the road showed off their fares from patisseries, cheeses and charcuterie to chocolates, tablets and preserves. Beyond the food stalls, there was a whole range of crafted goods, from jewellery to tweed accessories, clothing and photography to candles and ceramic and stoneware.

Jamie had been to the Christmas fair every year of his life, but tonight with Claire, everything seemed more vivid, and he wanted to commit each moment and the sound of her laughter to memory.

He watched her nibble a Crowdie which the cheesemonger offered for her to try after they stopped by his stall. A few samples later, Jamie could tell, the older man was taken by her. It was no wonder as her zest for life was contagious, and she was willing to try anything, undeterred by the unfamiliar names and labels. Looking at her, he glimpsed a faint smattering of freckles across her nose, and he knew she didn't have a trace of make-up on except for the hint of mascara which he thought was totally unnecessary.

She glanced over to him, and her amber eyes widened. "Why are you looking at me like that for?"

He winked at her and lowered his voice. "I dare ye to ask me what I'm thinking."

She wrinkled her nose and snorted. "I don't think so. When men say those sort of things, it usually means there's filth involved. I'll pass, thank you very much."

He laughed out loud, enjoying the way she kept him off balance. Teasing her and watching the colour infused her face was endearing to watch and something he could quickly get used to if he wasn't too careful.

In the next hour, as they toured the Christmas market, he discovered she loved historical books, scented candles, colourful scarves, a sugary Scottish confection called tablet, and her dislike for Haggis. Despite her objections, he couldn't stop himself buying things for her.

When she'd tried to swipe the items she wanted to purchase from his hands, he held them above his head, out of her reach. He laughed when she jumped and attempted to grab them. 

"You can't do that," she protested when he signalled the vendor to wrap up the pendant she was admiring. It was a Sterling silver, with an amber stone set in a Celtic dragonfly design. 

"Ye said ye like it."

"Just because I like something, it doesn't mean I'll go off buying things on a whim. In real life, that's not how it works." 

"But it's Christmas, and I'm the one buying," he reasoned, grinning at her as he pushed some pound notes into the seller's hand. "Besides, I like the necklace on you. The stone reminds me of the colour of yer eyes."

"But Jamie ..."

"No buts. I really want to do this. Just let me."

When she stubbornly glared at him, he took a step closer and caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He heard the hitch in her voice, the deep furrows on her brows slowly dissolving, but not quite totally.

"Please?" he whispered.

She looked at him, and after a few seconds, her features relaxed. "Very well," she conceded, eventually looking anywhere but into his eyes. "I'll pay for dinner then,"

He grinned and gave her a victorious look. "We'll see about that. Come on, Sassenach, I want to eat." He grabbed her wrist before she could object while he held gift bags on his other hand. They walked side by side, meandering through the market until they reached their destination. 

After ordering two paper plates of Arbroath smokies served with new potatoes and peas, they found a secluded area with a wooden table and bench to enjoy their meal and watch people go about their holiday season business.

Her face softened as she ate, looking comfortable in her surroundings as if she felt right at home here. Her eyes radiated with satisfaction, as she savoured every tiny morsel of the smoked fish, her tongue flicking out to catch every bit. A low moan slipped through her mouth with every bite, her head nodding and her eyes widening, when there were no words, reassuring Jamie with facial gestures how much she was enjoying herself. He watched every precious, gut-wrenching, sensual moment of the experience and wondered if he would ever be the same again. And when they finished their meal, washed down with a glass of cider, she let out a soft, sated sigh that slammed straight to his chest, squeezing his heart. 

 If he accomplished one bloody thing over the holiday season, it would be to show this lass how special she was and every second they spent together was a gift he would always treasure.

He opened a small parcel of chocolate truffles they'd bought in the market earlier and pushed it towards her. "Ready for dessert?" he offered, realising how much he loved feeding her.

"Mmmm, yes, please." She popped the sweet treat into her mouth and smiled. "This has been so much fun. I've loved every minute of tonight, Jamie. Thank you."

He had too. He'd never experienced such a powerful bond with a lass on both a mental and physical level, and he tried not to think of the day when she'd go back to London. When the time came, he'd deal with it. "Who said the night is over?" he teased.

"Is it not?"

"Far from it." He got up, dropped their plates and cups in the recycling bin and then offered his hand to her. "Come, Sassenach ... we're off to our next destination," he said, grabbing their bags.

"Where to now? More food?" she groaned, clutching her stomach.

"If it's food ye want, there are still a lot of things ye haven't tried yet." He laughed, taking her hand in his as he tugged her towards the direction where they came from. "But first caffeine. We're going to need it."

"Oooh, are we doing an all-nighter now, are we?" she breathed, almost skipping beside him, trying to keep up with his long stride.

"It's a surprise, Sassenach but I promise ye, ye're going to love the entertainment factor in the next phase of this date," Jamie said as he pushed the door to a coffee shop. "Come, let's go inside and get some heat first."

He ordered two Dutch coffee from the counter and settled them by the window overlooking the street market that was beginning to thin out. When Claire took a sip of the frothy hot beverage, she sighed in pleasure and smiled.

"Ye like?"

"Uh-huh, this is like caffeinated eggnog. Never had it before. I love it!"

"Dinnae tell me, ye don't have them in London."

"They probably do, but I've never had the pleasure of seeing it in a drink menu."

He noticed a residue of cream lodged in the corner of her mouth. Unable to help himself, Jamie reached over slowly, wiping it off with his thumb. Staring into her eyes, he deliberately put his thumb into his mouth and sucked. 

An invisible firework suddenly erupted between them, the sights and sounds of their immediate surrounding fading in a blurred haze, becoming meaningless in the perfect connection of those precious seconds.

"Claire?"

"Hmmm?" Her voice was like a breathless whisper, and he wasn't sure if he imagined the yearning look in her eyes. It took all his self-control to keep from kissing her right there and then. Instead, he locked down all his muscles and willed himself to think of animals that start with the letter D. And all his damn brain could summon was the word dragonfly.

"May I ask ye a favour?"

"I don't kiss on the first date," she said too quickly, but her words contradicted her manner as she stared at his lips.

"That wasn't what I was gonnae ask ye."

"Oh!" Her eyes flew to his, and she blushed profusely. "Oh, well, that depends on the favour then."

He swallowed hard and leaned forward, taking her hands in his. "Will ye spend the rest of yer holiday with me?" He cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to ask of ye is, will ye stay here until the Three Kings ...until it's time for ye to go back to London?"

She blinked thrice. 

It was a request straight from his heart, and he listened to it, unheeding of the alarm bells that started to reverberate in his brain. He needed more time with Claire to see this through and to find out what this was between them. He waited for laughter, a dismissive wave of her hand, a playful joke or a roll of her eyes as he held his breath.

"Alright."

"Alright?" A lungful of air whooshed out of him.

"Yes, I'd love to stay."

Something shifted and awakened. 

He didn't know what it was, but he also knew it would never be the same between them.

Suddenly, he realised the simple request took a lot out of him because all he could muster at that moment were his heartfelt words, "Thank you, Sassenach."

Dear Readers,

Here it is, the third chapter of my Christmas story. I'm super thrilled you're enjoying this so far if the feedback and kudos is anything to go by from the previous instalment. Thank you so much for the generous response and your continuous readership. I hope you're all having a fabulous week. Keep up the good vibes and faith and keep passing that on because even if we can't change what's going on in the world, a healthy amount of positivity will see us all through this strange time. Take care of your health and safety and much love to all. x

[shadow-assassin-blix]

Bees and Sunbeams

Santiago ‘Pope” Garcia x Estranged Wife!reader

So this might be a two parter. Not sure just yet. But this is a bit angsty. Alludes to something traumatic but I don’t specify what it is. Title is from a Henry David Thoreau quote. Santi being an idiot. Frankie being adorable with his baby.

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia was a complicated man. He spent 3 years in Colombia chasing down a drug cartel. Some would say that that was honorable. If they knew the truth however…

He went to Colombia for another reason. He was running from his marriage. He loved his wife, he truly did, but she was never quite the same after…

Even now, he couldn’t even think of the word. Didn’t want to admit that he essentially abandoned her when she needed him most.

After everything that happened with his team, he couldn’t even gather the courage to go home to her. He’s been crashing on Frankie’s couch. Santi was sure, absolutely sure, that all that was waiting for him at home was divorce papers.

He thought over thing that he said to her, when he last saw her, wincing at how harsh he was.

*Flashback*

It was the day before he left for Colombia. He was packing his bag up, and she stood leaning in the doorway watching him.

“I just… I don’t understand why you are going alone? I could meet up with you in a couple of weeks? We could… find a little home there? It’s not a problem for me to work remotely,” She bargained with him, biting her lip.

“I’ve told you no. You are staying here. I don’t need your help, I just need to be away for a while,” He responded, frustration lacing his tone.

“’You need to be away.’ Feels like you’ve been away for some time already honey. I mean… I’m not the one who has been sleeping on the couch or cringing at my touch. I’m not the one who barely talks anymore nor am I the one whose been spending most of my free time at the bar,” She threw out at him, her voice breaking.

“What do you want from me? Huh? What? What do you want me to say?” Santi asked throwing the shirt in his hand down onto his bag, his hands resting on his hips.

“Are you cheating on me? Is that… is that why you want to go to Colombia on your own? To go back to your old routine of finding beautiful informants?” She questioned looking away from him.

“Yes. I’m going to Colombia to be with beautiful women, who don’t nag at me or drive me crazy,” He responded sarcastically.

She didn’t quite pick up on the sarcasm, flinching away from him. She simply nodded her head and walked away.

He wanted to call her back and tell her he didn’t mean it. But he was too blinded by rage and pain to fully think at that point. He just gathered his bags, and left, wanting to stay the night at a hotel, rather than risk another argument.

*End*

He had been at Frankie’s for about a week at this point, and he knew Frankie wanted him to man up and go home. He was just so afraid of what he was going to find if he went back.

Frankie sighed as he woke up to go tend to his daughter who was loudly informing him, that she was awake, and needed to be changed.

“Hello my princesa. Good morning mi vida. I know. I’m working on it,” Frankie cooed to her as he picked her up, to set her on the changing table.

He quickly got her a fresh diaper, and as he stared at her, he said, “Tio Santi is a bit of an idiot. Should we pry?” She giggled in response “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He picked up his phone and hit the facetime button next to Y/N. The phone rang a few times, before it picked up and her face appeared.

“Hi my sweet girl. Good morning. What’s up Frankie?” She asked after greeting his daughter.

“Can you come over real quick, me and Sophia want to go to store sans baby? Not that I don’t love her, but it’s easier than having to drag the stroller out,” Frankie requested, thinking quickly.

“Sure. I’ll be over in 20 mins,” She answered with a smile.

“Great. See ya in a bit,” Frankie hung up.

“Frankie. What are you doing?” Came Sophia’s making him jump slightly.

“Nothing. Let’s get dressed yeah?” Frankie said changing the subject making his way to their bedroom to dress.

A few minutes later, they were all dressed, and he was bouncing Isobel up and down, smiling at the happy giggles that came from her.

A knock on the door alerted him that his company had arrived and that a warpath had been created.

Sophia opened the door, and led her in. As soon as she stepped into the living room she stopped in her tracks as she looked at Santi.

Her face… was blank. She simply looked at Frankie with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, look at the time, Sophia. We should go to the store or something. Ya know. You two should stay here and talk things out, and I will deal with the pain in the ass that’s the stroller, shall we my girls?” Frankie suggested loudly, grabbing Sophia and walking out with the both of them.

Santi stared at his wife with wide eyes. He definitely wasn’t expecting to see her. His eyes gave her a once over and admired her curves. He didn’t think it was possible for her to look more beautiful.

“Hey Bee,” He said quietly, referring to her nickname.

Her nose twitched in response and she crossed her arms, looking down.

“That’s… that’s a nice dress. Is it new?” He awkwardly began, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah. It is. Bought it couple of months ago, along with some other stuff that were meant for my husband’s eyes only, but. It appears that he must have died out in the middle of a jungle, since I haven’t heard from in 3 years. Shame. He was so pretty,” She scoffed, glaring at him.

He winced, “Okay. I deserved that.”

They both shifted awkwardly.

She made her way into the kitchen, grabbing a beer, and popping the lid off.

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” Santi asked concerned as he followed her.

“Shouldn’t you be out with one of your informants?” She threw back taking a large gulp.

“Baby. Can you please… just hear me out? Just… let me talk for 5 minutes. Then you can leave, or hit me or whatever,” Santi pleaded placing his hands on the island, staring at her softly.

“Go,” She said, gesturing for him to hurry up.

“I didn’t… I didn’t cheat on you. Either before I left or after. Yes, I had female informants, but I never… I never did anything with them, despite popular belief,” He started with a sigh.

“After… after everything happened… you were so. Different. So, hurt and in pain. Anytime I tried to help you, you pushed me away. So, I stayed away. When I got the offer to go to Colombia… I figured it would only be a couple of months. Enough time for the both of us to heal. Then we had that stupid argument where, I ruined everything,” He continued struggling to get the words out.

“I just… I figured you were better off without me… so I stayed. I ran from you. And I regret it so much honey,” Santi finished softly, not making eye contact. “Plus… I didn’t want you to see the monster I had become while I was over there.”

The silence was deafening after that. It was several minutes before she finally responded.

“I could never see you as a monster. I love you. Yeah, it took me some time to heal, but when I finally was getting better, all I wanted was my husband and all you seemed to want was a get out of jail free card,” She replied with a sniffle.

“I’m sorry. That was never my intention,” He apologized his hand hesitantly reaching out to touch the one that she was leaning on.

She allowed it and wanted to cry as he held it softly.

“How long have you been home?” She quietly asked.

“About a week. I was… I was afraid that if I came home, that I would be served with divorce papers. Afraid that I would return home to an empty house,” He admitted with a sigh.

“I’ll admit… I thought about it. Even had them drawn up after a year. Hell, I even tried to move on. Thought about going on a couple of dates, but…. Wound up not going through with them,” She confessed, fiddling with the beer bottle now.

“That’s… that’s fair. What… what made you not go through with them?” He asked curious.

She looked up at him, her eyes catching his, “They weren’t you, baby.”

He looked up at the ceiling, biting his lip, trying to control himself.

“Did you... uh... did you just quote Indiana Jones at me?” He questioned trying to not laugh.

“A little. Was it that bad?” She inquired with an awkward smile.

He shook his head, as he slowly came around to her side of the island. She followed him with her eyes, turning around as he came up to her. His hand reached up to brush an errant hair out of the way.

“Do you still want that divorce?” He questioned, clearing his throat.

“No. I just want my husband home, safe and in my arms,” She answered with a small smile.

“I think I can do that. I know I have… I know I have a great deal to make up to you. A full 3 years’ worth. If you need space at any time or want to set up rules or whatever, then let me know. I’ll do whatever I need to, to earn your trust again,” Santi promised her as he rested his forehead against hers.

She whispered an okay as she reached out to place her hands on his chest. He braced himself, preparing for her to push him away. He was pleasantly surprised when she instead wrapped them around his back, pulling him into her embrace.

He took a heavy sigh of relief as he returned her hug, pressing kisses to her head.

“First on the agenda, can we go take a nap? I had an all-nighter and I’m really tired,” She mumbled into his chest, as a yawn slipped out.

He nodded his head and led her over to the couch. He laid down on the couch first, and she gestured for him to shift on his side. He does so, and she lays in front of him. His arms curl around her, spooning her to him. Her hands held the one resting on top of her close to her chest.

They soon fell asleep at they got comfortable.

An hour later, the Morales trio walked up to their home hesitantly.

“Don’t hear screaming, nor do I see cops, so unless she murdered him quietly, I don’t know what we are about to walk into,” Frankie warned as he opened the door.

As they stepped in, Frankie sighed happily as the sight of his best friend and his wife, asleep on the couch. Sophia swooned softly, and Isobel just saw her two other favorite people and yelled happily.

At her shout, they both jerked awake, blinking rapidly.

Bee quickly got up, stumbling slightly, and made her way over to them. “Hi! I know, I didn’t get a chance to hold you earlier. Lemme make it up to you.”

She gently took Isobel from Sophia, and Isobel instantly began babbling away to her. Bee nodded her head and would respond back to her.

“Let’s go get your Tio, yeah? Would you like that? I bet you would, you love your Tio,” She said in a silly voice.

Santiago shook his head but took her from Bee as Isobel made grabby hands to him. He began to speak to her in Spanish, telling her how she’s the best goddaughter in the world.

Sophia then asked if Bee would help her unload the groceries, as Frankie made his way over to Santi.

Once they were out of earshot, Frankie guessed, “So. You two made up finally?”

“Yeah. We’re uhh. Going to go slowly, or at whatever pace she sets. But good news is, I’ll be off your couch by end of day. I’ve….. I missed her. More than I care to admit, because its… embarrassing to be honest,” He explained as Isobel tried standing on his legs, holding onto nothing but his hands.

“Good. I’m glad. Does she… does she know about what happened with Tom and everything?” Frankie quietly asked.

“Not yet. I’ll explain that when we get home. That’s going to be fun explaining,” He replied as he made Isobel sit down, after she almost fell off his lap.

Isobel made a displeased noise at him and turned to pout at her daddy.

“Oh? Tio Santi didn’t let you fall like a dummy, so now you want my attention?” He playfully asked as he took her from allowing Santi to stand up.

Santiago then quickly packed up his things. He didn’t have much in the house, most of his stuff was in the truck. He felt like he was invading their space enough as it is without all of his stuff piled up in a corner.

As he finished grabbing everything, Sophia and Bee walked in with the last of the groceries and were setting them down in the kitchen.

As soon as they had put away the groceries, Santi brought his things out to the truck, setting them in the back seat.

“Got room for one more, handsome?” Came Bee’s voice as she joined him by his truck.

He looked around and noticed her car wasn’t there, so she had walked over.

“Yeah. Think I do. I wish you wouldn’t walk everywhere though baby,” Santi voiced as he walked over to open the passenger door for her.

“I like the feel of the sun, and buzzing of the bees,” She replied as she made to step in.

She stopped, her foot on the frame, poised for her to hop in. She turned to him really quick and pressed a kiss to his lips. She ended it just as quickly as she began it, jumping into the truck. He looked at her stunned, a smile growing on his face. He shut the door and made his way to the driver’s side.

She glanced at the middle seat as he started up the truck, biting her lip. She then slid over to it, not looking at him as he glanced at her. She simply buckled herself in, and then as he put the truck in motion, she reached over and laced her hand with the one resting on his lap.

He lifted their joined hands and press a small kiss to the back of hers. He stopped to get them food at one of their favorite places, and as he pulled up to the house, he turned the truck off. He looked over at her, gazing at her lovingly.

She smiled at him, and he leaned down to capture her lips into a kiss. He gently cupped her cheek as they kissed. They pulled away after a moment, trying to catch their breaths.

“C’mon. Let’s get inside. You have some making up to do as I recall? And I’m hungry,” She flirted as she pulled away, snatching the food and rushing out.

He grabbed the drinks before catching up to her. They stepped inside and as she moved to set the food on the table he took in the site before him. The one place he thought he would never see again:

Home.

[pars-ley]

Until Tomorrow | Part two

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You’re a happily single magazine editor in London, that is, until you’re set up with a handsome musician, who’s not exactly forthcoming about being in the biggest boy group in the world. But with your days together numbered, will this blossom into something more or crash land, leaving your heart broken.

Genre: Idol!au / Fluff / Romance / Comedy / Slight hint of smut 

Rating: 15+ (sfw)

Warnings: Mentions of sex and sexual activity / Kissing

Word Count: 6413

Part one | Part two Notes: Beta reader @ditttiii​ Thank you so much for your help, you are such a queen! 

I knock lightly against the boss’ door and wait. 

Janelle Rogers is the editor-in-chief for our magazine, she’s brilliant but also a bit eccentric. She always has some kind of wacky blazer on and yet, somehow always manages to look professional. She’s also the messiest person I know, resulting in her desk always being untidy, but she claims it to be organised chaos instead.

Who am I to argue with that kind of logic? 

She’s tough and a lot of her employees are terrified of her, but if you work hard and do a good job she usually notices and shows her appreciation in some way, which makes her quite pleasant to work for. 

I get on with her well on a personal level too. We’ve been out to dinner a few times and it’s always fun. It also always turns into a late night drinking session. Going out with her, usually means I am in for a two day hangover, which is why it doesn’t happen all that often.

“Come in!” She calls.

Swinging open the door, I step in. 

Janelle is pacing back and forth, phone tucked under her ear, as she searches through the papers in her hand. Hearing me enter, she looks up and removes the phone from her ear, before she says, “Y/n, I heard you wanted to speak to me, please come in. I won’t be long.” 

She indicates to the empty seats across from her desk. 

I sit down and cross one leg over the other, trying not to listen to the heated discussion she’s having. 

“I appreciate that I do, but I need that piece before the end of the week.” She says, her tone clipped. I see her jaw tense as she grits her teeth to whatever response she gets. “And I understand that, nonetheless, you’ve had plenty of time to figure it out. Your story needs to be in by the end of the week, otherwise I’ll use someone else’s. End of discussion.”

She hangs up the phone, almost slamming it back down onto the base unit and sighs. 

Sitting down, elbows on her desk, she gives me her full attention. “Some people will use any excuse to avoid a deadline.” She shakes her head and then meets my eyes. “Please tell me you’re here to give me some good news.”

I grimace slightly. “Well the magazine is on track...mostly. The music segment however…” I pause. “It’s unfinished.”

Her face drops. “What?” She mutters, her voice low, brimming with anger. “What do you mean, it’s not finished?”

“Only half of it is complete.” 

She slams her hand on her desk. “God Dammit, Toby.” She runs her hands over her hair, smoothing her tight, black curls. 

Toby was one of our writers, mostly for the music assignments. He did interviews with the artists, went to gigs, reviewed albums but recently had gone on a holiday for some kind of meditation retreat. ‘No phones permitted and no contact from the outside world’ kind of place, not my type of holiday but who am I to judge?

“Can’t we just use one of our other music pieces?” I ask, knowing the answer before she gets the chance to respond.

“No, we need that segment. Our sales were up last month because we featured that story about the k-pop group selling out Wembley, now we need to report what the shows were like.” She sits back in her chair. “BTS are very current, it’s what we need. They’re our ticket to the younger generation buying our magazine.”

“Well, that’s why it’s not finished, the concerts are this weekend and Toby’s obviously not going to be here for them. He didn’t seem to have tickets for them either.”

She lets out a long, drawn out breath. “Ok, well we need to get our hands on a ticket.”

I put my hands up to stop her. “I’ve already got people on it but I need another writer to rewrite the segment.”

She nods. “Toby won’t like it but that’s not my problem. I’ll get George on it.” She picks up the phone and within seconds it’s all arranged and passed over. 

I stand and make my way to the door.

“Y/n?” She calls as I open the door to make my exit. I turn back to her. “Good work, keep me posted, we need this story.”

I give her a sharp nod, not sure how possible it will be to achieve this but of course I’ll try my hardest to make it happen.

I head back to my desk, sending more emails and making more calls, when my personal phone vibrates against the wood. I glance down at the screen and my stomach flips when I see who the message is from.

Taehyung [14.09]: So, how’s your day going?

A wide grin spreads across my face. He’s thinking about me. My chest swells at that thought alone and I type a quick reply and press send.

Y/n [14.10]: So far? It’s a day from hell. What about yours?

His reply is  immediate.

Taehyung [14.11]: 😥 I don't like to hear that. My day is fine. Will be better later, hopefully I can cheer you up...If you’re still free?

I smile at my phone. I couldn’t wait to get out of here and meet him. It’s the only thing keeping me going through all of this work, knowing that he would be there at the end of it. And clearly he was looking forward to seeing me too; my ego was quite inflated. 

Y/n [14.11]: Of course, can’t wait. What time?

I put my phone down and carry on clicking through my emails, relieved to discover that I’ve sent and replied to all I needed to, for now at least. I decide to take a much needed break. I put my earphones in and shuffle my Spotify playlist of metal and rock songs that I had put together and turn the volume up to as loud as it can go. 

The ear buds thrum inside my ears as they blare out classic 80’s rock sounds with ‘Pour some sugar on me’ and I lose myself in Def Leppard. Turning in my seat, I look out of my office window. 

The landscape of London is truly something to marvel at, and I would never tire of this view. The way the entire city reflected in the windows of the high-rise buildings, the way the sun bounced off the river and the classic style of our oldest landmarks. London is a remarkable place. 

I sigh and put my feet up on the low window ledge, crossing my ankles. My phone vibrates in my lap and I smile as I see his name on my screen, reading the message.

Taehyung [14.21]: I’ll be working for a while, is 7 too late for you?

I sigh, I had another early start tomorrow but I can’t pass up the chance to go on a date with the only guy I've been interested in for two years. Who knows how long he’ll be over here for? I can deal with being tired for a few days.

Y/n [14.22]: I can make an exception for you. Let me send you the address.

I sent him the link with all the info of Yoshi’s restaurant. If he was anything like me, he’d be looking over the menu and planning his meal.

Taehyung [14.25]: Then I am flattered. See you there :)

I grin at my phone like an idiot. God, how old was I? I’m sitting here embarrassing myself, acting like a seventeen year old love sick teenager over a guy I barely know. 

I kept picturing his face, his smile, the way he raises an eyebrow so seductively, or the way he runs a hand through his dark brown hair. I’m not sure if my memory of him does him justice. 

I pause my playlist and quickly dial Yoshi’s number, waiting for him to pick up.

“Yo! What’s happening, jelly bean?” His usually cheerful voice rings out.

“I’m wondering something?” I ask hesitantly.

“Wondering...if I’m as good in the sack as people say? Why yes, I am.” He quips.

I roll my eyes. “No one says that and I would never be wondering that.” 

His laugh vibrates my ear. “Your loss. So what are you wondering then?”

“Well, do you have a table for two for tonight at seven?” I bite my lip, waiting for the response.

“If the table’s for you, for sure! Who you bringing with you this time? Taylor?” He asks, mentioning one of my oldest and closest friends who has been with me to his restaurant many times.

I hesitate. “...No. I’m bringing a...date, actually?” I hold my breath as I wait for his reaction.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!” He exclaims, so loud I have to quickly turn the call volume down before he deafens me. “Hold up, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me! Who is it? How did you meet? It’s the tourist guy you bumped into, isn’t it? I told you y/n, I told you he thought it was a date.” He bombards me, laughing out of excitement.

“Actually,” I cut in, “It’s not him.” I hear the groan of disappointment on the other end. “It’s his friend.” I laugh.

“Well damn girlfriend! I’m impressed. I can’t wait to hear more about this. Your table will be ready at seven, don’t worry, I got you.” 

I smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. And Yoyo?”

“Yea?” He waits, the grin in his voice audible.

“Please, nothing embarrassing.” I practically whine.

He gasps. “Would I ever?” He pauses. “On second thoughts, don’t answer that. Heart crossed and hope to die, I shall be on my best behaviour.”

My shoulders relax a little. “Thank you. See you later.”

I hang up and remove my earphones, releasing a long, slow breath. That didn’t go as badly as I had imagined it would, he let me off surprisingly easy. Maybe going there tonight won’t be as mortifying as I’m imagining.

My work phone rings and I push the thoughts of Taehyung and tonight’s date out of my head and get back to work.

The afternoon goes slow, my eyes constantly finding the clock to see how much time has passed; counting down the hours till I could leave and meet him. 

I wade through my workload; like trudging through mud. I haven’t had any luck with finding a ticket to the BTS concert at the weekend. Any hope I did have was fading fast, well aware of the fact that I was running out of time. I had 3 days until the concert took place, I couldn’t give up; my boss wouldn’t allow it. 

I work past my usual time, wanting to get as much as I can done today, so it might allow me some more freedom for the rest of the week.

At six o’clock I am strutting out the door, after touching up my make-up and fluffing my hair in the washroom. I had decided to take the underground to ride the few stops to the restaurant. Once out of the stuffy tube station, I send a message to Taehyung letting him know that I’m walking from the station and will be there shortly. The text I get back however, has me practically running to the doors of the restaurant.

Taehyung [18.47]: I’m inside :)

My heart drops. But surely Yoshi wouldn’t have any idea who my date was or what he looked like, so Taehyung should be safe.

I yank open the heavy, double doors frantically searching for him. When my eyes finally find him, I gulp. Him and Yoshi are both sitting at a table, deep in conversation. I quickly rush over, interrupting them.

“Taehyung, I see you’ve met my friend, Yoshi.” I smile nervously, as they both stand up to greet me.

Yoshi gets there first, pulling me into a tight hug and squeezing me hard. I pat him on the back. “Ok, I tap out.” I wheeze,and he releases me. “Try to not injure me before my date, will you?” 

He laughs. “Introductions have already been made, so you don’t need to worry. I was just filling  Taehyung in here, about some of our adventures.” He winks.

I scowl at him. “Ok, ok, enough embarrassing stories.” I take my bag from my shoulder and put it with my blazer onto the far side of the seat in the booth. 

Yoshi grins. “Ok, I’ll leave you to it. Taehyung, very nice to meet you. Someone will be over soon to take your order. Enjoy guys!” He says with another wink, before he quickly proceeds to leave us alone.

We both stand there smiling at each other before I lean in, kissing him on the cheek. I linger there for a moment but I stiffen when I feel his breath at my ear. 

“Nice to see you again.” He greets softly. His deep voice like silk, doing things to my body I didn’t expect. 

I pull away, blushing slightly. “Shall we?” I indicate to the seats in the booth. He nods and we slide in. 

One of the best things here was the decor, it gave us a lot more privacy than other places I’ve been to. The booths had partition doors which I could close completely or leave open slightly. The partitions behind our seats were completely covered with painted japanese murals and there were beautiful, pink blossoms hanging from the ceiling.

“Were you here very long?” I ask, trying to gauge how much time they would have had to speak to each other.

He shakes his head. “Long enough to hear how you met each other and the story about the time you spilt a drink in your lap at a theme park and he told everyone you walked passed, that you had wet yourself.”

I laugh and roll my eyes at the memory. “That’s Yoshi for you. Never passes up the chance to embarrass me.”

Taehyung smiles. “He also said some very nice things about you.”

“That is good to hear but he has to, he knows I’d bully him otherwise.” 

He laughs at that. “You two seem very close.”

I nod. “We are. He’s been my best friend for a long time.”

“It’s good to have someone like that.”

I nod again, agreeing. “Do you have a best friend?”

He smiles. “Yes, his name’s Jimin.”

“And would he embarrass you like Yoshi does to me?”

He shakes his head, then leans in closer. “Worse, much worse.”

I chuckle. “Well in that case, I hope I get to meet him one day.” I reply, a smirk playing across my lips. 

He fights his smile. “Perhaps you will soon.”

I raise an eyebrow at him quizzically. “Is he over here also?”

He nods slowly. “Yep and yes, he’s another musician.”

He answers my unasked question and I lean back in my seat, surprise evident on my face. “Really? I’m guessing you still don't want to tell me about your job?”

I notice a flicker of sadness flash in his eyes, before they look down and away from my questioning gaze. I feel immediate guilt in my gut. “Hey, it’s ok, you don’t have to tell me anything, you just seem quite secretive about it. I was saying it more as an observation.” I reassure.

He looks up, eyes wide, “I’m not secretive!” He exclaims, shocked. “I want to tell you but—”

“Hey,” I cut him off, “No need to explain. Don’t worry, you can tell me whenever you’re ready.” I give him a reassuring smile and a gentle pat on the hand he had placed above the table.

I see him stiffen for a moment and my response is to do the same, until he turns his hand over, so we're palm to palm and gives it a little squeeze. His shoulders relax and so do mine, even though my heart hammers wildly with excitement. I can feel my palm starting to sweat the longer his touch lingers on me, it feels like a lifetime before he finally lets go and pulls his hand away. 

I can breathe and think straight again.

While I was more than happy to wait for him to tell me about his work, I found myself growing increasingly curious about the subject. He’s so mysterious, I can’t understand why he won't talk about it. I would assume that being a musician would be a  cool profession to divulge about,  most would probably gush till their heart's content, given the opportunity. 

But, in a way I’m glad he’s not like that, I don’t think I would be able to  stand the egotistical bragging.

“Can I take your drink order?” A sweet voice asks, stepping in between the sliding doors. I look up and recognise the server as Emiko. She’s worked here for a while now, and is always pleasant

“Oh, hi y/n! So nice to see you.” She beams her usual toothy grin.

“Nice to see you! How have you been?” I ask.

“I’ve been good!.” She giggles. “I won’t disturb you too much, what can I get you two?”

I order a lemonade and Taehyung orders a coke. I did contemplate an alcoholic beverage, but I don’t want to be the only one drinking on a date, that’s how I'm sure to embarrass myself.

I pick up the menu and skim through it, even though I'm sure I know it by heart by now. 

Glancing up as he too studies the menu, my eyes rake over his broad shoulders, the light beige shirt he wears falls flatteringly over his broad chest, clinging to all the right places. His black cap conceals his hair, but I can tell it’s all swept back off of his forehead. I watch the way he juts his jaw to the side as he mulls over what to order. His tongue dances across the inside of his lips, my eyes trained on it, mind drifting off again to wondering how soft his lips would feel. How that tongue would feel moving against mine...or other places. He looks up at me and instantly a flush of red travels up his neck. 

“What?” He asks quietly, giving me a bashful smile.

“Nothing,” I look back down at my menu, feeling flustered myself. “What are you going to order?” 

“Hm, maybe the Yakitori chicken skewers, any recommendations? Yoshi told me you’ve tried everything on the menu.”

I laugh. “That is true; I'm a big fan of his cooking. And yes, you should get that, it’s—,” I give a kiss to the tips of my fingers, chef style. 

He laughs and leans back in his seat. “So tell me, why was your day so awful?” He frowns, genuine concern on his brow.

I roll my eyes and groan. “Work is a joke at the moment, I’m covering for someone so I have twice the usual work load and that’s not even the worst of it.”

Emiko returns with our drinks, interrupting me. I pause as we order our meals and some sushi to share, then she leaves in a rush.

He raises his eyebrows at me and leans his chin on the palm of his hand, listening intently and waiting for me to continue. 

“Ok, so, my boss is hellbent on this particular story. The writer of said story has gone off on an unreachable holiday and it's only half done. So, now I have to try and get a ticket for a show that is apparently so high in demand, it seems impossible, so we can finish said story.”

He frowns. “I’m confused. What’s the story?”

I sigh as I fiddle with my napkin. “About some boy group and their shows at wembley.” I have a realisation then. “You’ve probably heard of them? BTS? They’re from South Korea too.” I’m not sure but for a brief moment I think I see him stiffen out the corner of my eye. His expression unreadable. 

“Yes, I’ve heard of them.” He says, nonchalantly. 

“You don’t like them?” I ask, wondering why his face suddenly looked so solemn. “Don’t tell me they’re your musical rivals?” I tease attempting to lighten his mood.

He smiles and some of the tension seems to leave his body. “No. They’re cool. So why do you need a ticket?”

“So the writer can review the show and tell the readers all about it. Our boss is trying to appeal to the younger readers and she’s convinced this is the way to do it, through this group.”

“What will happen if you can’t get the ticket?” He asks, eyes wide with worry.

I shrug. “My boss will be very, very pissed. I don’t plan on finding out though. I’ve got a few more days, it always works out in the end, one way or another.”

He watches me carefully. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

I grin as our meals arrive, steaming hot and smelling incredible. We eat in silence for a while, enjoying the taste. I watch as the noises and faces Taehyung pulls assure me of the fact that he’s very impressed and my chest swells with pride for my friend. 

I do, however, let my mind wander into thinking about hearing those noises of appreciation in other aspects. Like me...on my knees...underneath this table. Snapping myself out of less than innocent thoughts, I focus on my meal. 

Why couldn’t I control myself? Why did everything about him appeal to me in such a powerful way? Is it because I haven’t had sex for over a year? Or is it simply that he is just the perfect specimen of a man? Maybe both.

“That was amazing. I’m blown away.” He sat back in his seat, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

“I’m glad you liked it! Yoshi will be thrilled.” I beam and take a long drink of my cold lemonade, hoping it cools the heat inside me. I could feel tiny beads of sweat forming down my back and along the nape of my neck. 

We sit and talk until Emiko returns to clear our plates and Taehyung asks for the check. 

“I’m afraid, I cannot stay out late with you tonight.” He says solemnly.

I try to ignore the disappointment I feel; not ready for this date to be over. “Ah, that’s ok, I know you’re busy.”

He shakes his head and puts his hand on top of mine, leaning forward. I mirror him automatically. The warmth of his palm slowly flows through me and my eyes can’t help but float down to our touching skin. His hand feels soft and yet strong with his long, delicate fingers enveloping mine. I look back up to his intense eyes blazing into mine.

“It’s not that, It’s just—” He pauses looking away, my stomach drops as I’m left wondering as to what on earth he’s going to say. He doesn’t want to see me any more? He’s not attracted to me? He sees me more as a friend? What excuse is it going to be this time?

“...I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.” He says, his face so serious it takes me a few moments to register the words that have just left his mouth. Relief swamps me as I feel myself relax back into my seat and laughter vibrate through my body. He joins me, his boxy grin spread across his face but as he does, he lifts my hand, turning it over and laces his fingers through mine. 

My laughter fades, and I look down at our entwined fingers. Normally, an action like this so soon after meeting would have me running for the hills, but with him, it just felt...right.

“Is this ok?” He asks hesitantly, a crimson shadow forming on his cheeks.

I nod and swallow; my mouth suddenly dry. “Yes.” I reply simply, frozen in shock.

He relaxes a little and leans forward on his elbows, his thumb gently tracing small circles on the back of my hand.

“I should go back to my hotel…”

“But?” I query.

He side smiles, looking up at me seductively through long lashes and the sight is enough to make my belly clench. “I really don’t want to.”

My heart knocks violently against my ribcage at his admission. “I don’t want you to either.” I blurt out, surprising myself.

His eyes widen slightly before he side-smiles again and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad it’s not just me. I cannot tell what you think about me.”

I let out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Is it not obvious?” I raise an eyebrow, surely he must be joking. I have never been so red, flustered and embarrassed with a guy in my whole laugh.

He shakes his head. “Not really, sometimes I think I know where your head is and yet at other times it’s hard to read you. I wish I knew what you were thinking.”

It's almost a question; giving me the option not to feel obliged to answer, but I don’t want to leave him hanging and wondering. Maybe laying my cards out on the table wouldn’t be such a bad thing, before I get in too deep.

I lean on my elbows that rest on the table and angle myself towards him slightly. “Ok, just so you know where my head is at…” I shift slightly under his now intense stare, as he hangs on my words. “I like spending time with you, and even though we’ve only just met...I feel I’ve known you for a long time, which is rare for me, to have such a sudden connection. I find you insanely attractive that it’s hard to think straight when I’m around you.” He beams at that and a deep crimson glow burns his face. 

“We seem to have a lot in common and I’m definitely enjoying our time together and getting to know you. You have an air of mystery about you and to be honest, it just makes me more intrigued to find out more about you. Since I met you at the museum, you have been on my mind more than I was expecting and this…” I lift up our joined hands. “would have frightened me to the point of running and hiding, if it was with anyone but you.” I say, quite fast, the words leaving me in a rush, as the urgency of having to say them takes hold of me. 

I exhale and hesitantly meet his stare.

His boxy grin is wider than ever as his eyes sparkle with excitement. I find myself mirroring his smile.

“I’ve got to admit, I was not expecting that but a part of me was hoping you felt that way.” He beams. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can completely be myself, no personas, no hiding, just me. I’m not too experienced in matters of the heart and this is a first for me; feeling this way. You’re so beautiful that it’s distracting especially because I find you fascinating and I want to know every little thing about you. Every story, every thought, everything but when you talk or smile, I can’t help but want to kiss you.” He stops, leaving that last part hanging heavy in the air.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips while he watches me. My stomach tightens with anticipation, hoping he will, waiting for him to lean in and do it. I stare at his mouth, heart beating so hard that it’s all I can hear pounding in my ears. 

He leans forward until he’s just inches from my face, his scent swirling around me, his soft, plump lips inviting me, calling to me, when the screen doors to our booth open abruptly. 

Taehyung is back against his seat in a flash, his hand no longer touching me and I suddenly feel cold without his skin against mine. 

My head snaps up, only to be met with Yoshi’s grinning face.

“Hey guys, I hope you were happy with your meals?” He asked, eyes eager for approval, completely oblivious to the moment he just disturbed.

I slump back in my seat. “Perfect as always, Yoyo.” I smile, trying to hide the disappointment that swells inside me.

“Yes, it was amazing. I will definitely be returning before the end of my trip.” Taehyung says softly, offering a bow of his head.

Yoshi slaps him on the back, the action making Taehyung’s eyes pop with surprise and I muffle a laugh behind my hand.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate that. You’re welcome here anytime, just drop by and I'll make sure you’re taken care of.” 

Taehyung smiles and nods. “That’s very kind of you, thank you.” 

“Here’s your bill.” He places the little, leather book with the paper inside on the table. “Well, I’ll let you two love birds get back to your date, we have a ‘no fondling, foreplay or sexual activity’ rule here though, so be sure to take that outside if the mood strikes.” 

My icy glare burns into him as he grins and closes the doors before I can throw something at him. I hear his laughter and his footsteps as he leaves.

I look over at Taehyung who is fighting a laugh himself. 

“Don’t you start.” I warn, resisting the smile that twitches the corner of my mouth. 

He laughs out loud. “I love it when you scold me.”

I shake my head at him, feigning shock and unable to hide my amusement anymore. “You’re not supposed to enjoy it.”

He shrugs and gives me a bashful grin, then checks his phone and groans. “I really do have to go. I’m really sorry.” 

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s fine.” I grab my bag as he glances at the bill. 

“I’m getting this, no arguments.” He says sternly. I smirk at the authority in his tone, wondering if he’s that commanding in bed too. Mind out of the gutter.

He places his cash down with a very generous tip, that has my eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

I grab my blazer and slide out of the booth. “Lets go.”

I lead the way over to Yoshi, who is busy entertaining the customers sitting around the counter where he cooks and chats away. I wave to get his attention.

“We’re off Yoshi!” I call out. 

He nods, drops everything and rushes around to us. He pulls me into a quick, tight hug and before he’s even let me go he’s reaching around to shake Taehyung’s hand. I squeeze out of his grip and return to Taehyung’s side.

“Nice to meet you, man.” Yoshi waves.

“You too, thank you again.” Taehyung replies.

“My pleasure. Call me later, doll.” He points gun fingers at me and waves as he returns to his station. 

We head to the doors, opening them to the heavy, night air; warmth swirling around me in a complete contrast to inside. I hear Yoshi’s voice behind me call out. “Use protection!”

I put my middle finger up behind me without even looking in his direction. His laugh bellows out before the doors shut behind us. God, I really hated him sometimes. 

We walk to the car that had arrived to pick up Taehyung, the driver waiting patiently behind the wheel. 

“Jump in and we’ll drop you off.” He said, opening the door for me. 

I slid in across the comfy, fabric seats. Taehyung spoke to the driver then climbed in next to me. I was surprised to see the black partition between us and the driver and the small, dark curtains covering all the windows. I’ve never seen a car with these before, how odd.

My thoughts are interrupted by his hand on mine, the heat from his soft skin, searing through me. I look over to find he’s watching me from the corner of his eye, he gives me a side smile and I thread my fingers through his.

“You know, Yoshi did say something before you came in…” He says into the quiet. 

My stomach drops, nervous with apprehension. “What?”

“He...mentioned your ex.”

I felt a small flare of anger course through me. How dare he speak to Taehyung about him. Why bring up my past with someone I might have a future with? I let out a long breath. “What did he say?”

Taehyung looks hesitant. “Not much, honestly. Just said you dated a real arsehole, who broke your heart in the worst way. Then you came in, he didn’t get to finish.”

Thank god. This was my business to talk about, not Yoshi’s. I nod slowly.

“I think...” Taehyung cuts in quickly, worrying he’s upset me. “I think he was warning me not to hurt you, that’s why he brought it up.”

That was probably the case but I’m still pissed off at him. “That does sound like Yoshi.” I reply, quietly.

“And while I would like to hear about your past, including past relationships, I will wait until you’re ready to talk.”

I nod again, mulling that over. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, if you want to hear it.”

He squeezes my hand. “Only if you’re sure.”

I smile at him, my anger slowly extinguishing, not wanting to ruin the moment with Taehyung because of something Yoshi said.

“Do you get a lunch break at work?” He asks, randomly into the silence, breaking any tension left.

I nod and my brow furrows. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“I have a packed schedule tomorrow evening, so I cannot see you but I need to.” He hits me with that intense stare again. If I weren't already sitting, my knees would be trembling trying to hold me upright. “Are you free to meet me on your lunch break?” His pleading eyes melt my insides.

I feel heat race from my chest to my cheeks as my blush spreads. “For you? Of course.”

He smiles, genuine excitement in his eyes and he looks down at our joined hands. Sitting this close to him, arms and thighs almost touching, so close and yet, so far. The urge to shift closer to him is almost overwhelming but for some reason I resist. There’s an invisible current I can feel from his body to mine, almost electric, sending tingles through my body.

“Taehyung, we’re here.” A voice sounds out from a speaker somewhere making me jump and interrupting my thoughts. I realise then, the car has stopped, too focused on the sheer magnetism I could feel towards him.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” He climbs out, hand only leaving mine for a second before he’s grasping it again to gently pull me out the car. He leads me up the steps to my door and when I turn to him to say goodnight, we’re suddenly face to face, inches apart. 

My heart knocks rapidly against my ribcage, even as my lungs seem to stop working and my breath stills. His hand comes up to push the hair off my shoulder and I feel him linger on my neck. Warm, long fingers slide up to hold each side of my face, as he tilts his head and suddenly, before I can think, his lips are on mine. Gentle, soft and magical. 

My senses go crazy for a moment, overloaded with stimulation before I reciprocate eagerly. The taste of him like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, I want more. 

He pulls away suddenly, still close enough for me to feel his harsh breathing against my face. 

“Sorry, I should have asked first.” He says breathlessly.

My core is on fire, I feel ready to explode as I grab his light shirt by the collar and pull him against my lips again. My hands find their way to his neck, as I grip to keep him close to me and yet it’s not close enough. His hands wind around my waist holding me tight against his body. Heat and fire replace my thoughts, as I can only focus on my erratic heartbeat and the painful throbbing between my legs as his perfect, angular lips dance with mine. 

He breaks away to breath, sending a trial of kisses across my cheek to my ear.

“Until tomorrow.” He whispers breathlessly, before gently releasing me and taking a step back. He captures my hand, brings my fingers up to his lips, like he did that first night and places a gentle lingering kiss against them.Then he’s turning abruptly, dashing down the stairs and into the car. 

I stand there, dazed. Wow. Did that just happen? 

I fumble with my handbag, my head feeling fuzzy and unable to control the rest of my body.

I eventually find my keys and clumsily let myself in, walking through my apartment in a trance. I mechanically get ready for bed, my body on autopilot while I replay the kiss over and over in my mind, unable to think of anything else. As I lay in bed, my phone vibrates against the top of my nightstand, pulling me out of my Taehyung daydream.

Taehyung [22.30]: Made it back in time, no pumpkins here—

I laugh. Attached to the message is a close up photo of him laying down in bed, resting on an arm, his almost ebony eyes wearing a smile and staring straight through the phone into me. He looks gorgeous. Did I just kiss him? How on earth did that happen? 

My grin starts to hurt my cheeks but I can’t seem to stop it. I try to force it into just a regular smile, nothing too over the top or creepy, I fluff my hair out on the pillow and take a mirroring selfie, hitting send after.

Y/n [22.32]: Good to know, none here either 😊

Taehyung [22.33]: Haha! Good. I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow lunch time. Goodnight! 😉

I reply, wishing him a goodnight in return, just before my eyelids finally start to droop. As I drift off to sleep I replay the images of his lips moulded on mine, my fingers in his hair and his warm hands on my face, hoping he will appear in my dreams tonight.

Thank you so much for reading, if you could leave me some feedback it would be much appreciate, even if it’s just a little comment to tell me what you thought 🖤

[folightening]

Don't Go

Young Xehanort/Sora

Rated Teen

Summary: Five times Sora asked Xehanort to stay and one time he didn't have to.

5+1 fic with established relationship and shifting pov - some implied sexual content

- 1 -

This was not at all acceptable. It would do nothing for his plans. This wouldn't push Sora any closer to reawakening his power. He had absolutely nothing to gain from this. In fact, in the long run, continuing this could very well become a problem.

Despite all that, he couldn't part from the soft lips eagerly devouring his own or the lithe body encouraging their bad decision with every roll of those wide hips. Not until Sora was tugging down the zipper of his coat. Xehanort sat up to remove the coat himself, dropping it to the side as Sora shrugged out of his own jacket and pulled the tank top over his head. Sora may not be terribly muscular - he really was on the small and skinny side - but there was always something to be said about unassuming strength. That Sora was so powerful without physically giving it away was a trait that Xehanort found very attractive. As frustrating as Sora had proven that particular strength of his to be at times.

"We going to continue," Sora asked, "or are you going to sit there staring?"

"I'm enjoying the view."

Sora laughed but Xehanort's smile quickly faded as his gaze focused on the discolored X crossing Sora's torso. If he needed any reminder why this shouldn't be happening, that was a good one.

"Perhaps this isn't such a good idea."

"What?" Sora scoffed at him in disbelief, then followed Xehanort's gaze to his own chest. "Oh no. You are not leaving me now over this."

"Sora,"

"I don't want to hear it."

Sora grabbed his face with both hands and frowned at him with kiss-swollen lips. The stern look in his eyes was beautiful.

"What happened during my Mark of Mastery exam doesn't matter. Right now, I want you. You want me. So... please... stay and finish what we started."

For a few long moments Xehanort searched Sora's beautiful blue eyes. He could still deny him and leave; Sora wouldn't stop him. It would be the right thing to do. But Sora was right.

Gently taking Sora's wrists in his hands, Xehanort pressed down into another deep kiss. He could stay and forget about his - their - destiny for a while. It was easy to do that with Sora.

- 2 -

The Ocean Between really did look the same when viewed from on a world. An endless sea of twinkling stars; more than enough worlds to keep any wanderer busy for decades. Sora had seen many worlds and he was positive they didn't amount to even a tiny fraction of the worlds out there. Xehanort, however...

"How many have you been to?"

"Me personally? I didn't keep count," Xehanort said. "Nowhere near even half as many as my future self; he spent a large portion of his life running between worlds, seeing everything he could."

Sora hummed, nodded, and shifted position so his head was resting more on Xehanort's shoulder than his arm. For a moment he wondered how much had been wanderlust and how much had been for what he was doing now. When exactly had Xehanort decided to do all this?

"You have any favorites?"

Sora didn't really expect him to know about any from his future, and Xehanort probably wasn't really the type to rank worlds but Sora wanted to know more about him. His preferred worlds to visit was a safe enough topic.

"As much as I couldn't wait to get off the islands, I do find myself drawn to peaceful worlds where nothing much happens. However... My first will always have a special place in my heart, despite some of the memories associated with it."

Tilting his head up to look at him, Sora turned more onto his side. From this angle Xehanort didn't look particularly sad or bothered but a line like that could only be talking about bad memories.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Scala ad Caelum," Sora didn't miss the reverence in his voice, "was a beautiful world full of Light. No matter where you went you could hear the windmills, the ocean... An island city painted in whites and greens against a backdrop of blues... Scala's beauty is indescribable. You'd have to see it to understand."

That Xehanort couldn't find the worlds told Sora more about the place than any description Xehanort could have given him. Sometime, if possible, he'd like to go there.

"What were those memories you mentioned earlier?"

Xehanort laughed bitterly.

"Nothing too terrible. I have always been... different, and my opinions and interests weren't the most popular or accepted. I was also consistently the top of my class, which the nobility didn't like much. Then there was when I left..."

Xehanort trailed off and the frown on his lips had Sora wanting to comfort him. Without knowing what exactly was troubling Xehanort, he didn't know how much he could do.

"But you have good memories of the place." Why else would it be special to him?

"Most of my fondest memories are there."

From before whatever set him on this path happened, Sora supposed.

"Could you tell me about them?"

Xehanort chuckled and shifted so his arm was more comfortably around Sora. After a few moments he started telling stories of living in Scala ad Caelum. Chess matches with a peer named Eraqus - who's name caused a momentary odd feeling somewhere in his heart that Sora couldn't quite name. Nights spent telling stories with the stars with Eraqus and Yen Sid, though he couldn't read them the way Yen Sid does. One particular lazy afternoon he held dear and didn't get into much detail with. Being named a Master and achieving part of his life's goal...

After a while Sora couldn't stifle the yawn. It was late and he should've gone to sleep hours ago. They had a lot they still had to do in this world and he shouldn't do it sleepy.

"I should go," Xehanort said. "There are only a few hours left before dawn."

"A few more minutes?"

He was comfortable here, and he'd rather fall asleep with Xehanort than alone on the hard ground.

"Very well," Xehanort chuckled. "Until you fall asleep."

- 3 -

Sitting on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on wasn't a good idea. Thin arms wrapped around his waist, not impeding his motions at all but an obvious demand. Xehanort smiled at the gesture, but even so:

"I should be going."

Even half asleep as Xehanort knew he still was, Sora had quite the grip. He shook his head, soft hair tickling Xehanort's back, and returned his cheek to the space between Xehanort's shoulder blades.

"Don't need to be up for an hour," Sora explained, "so you can't leave yet."

"As much as I would love to spend more time with you--"

"You said 'should be', not 'need to'. I forbid it."

"Really?" He couldn't stop the chuckle. It was endearing how Sora thought he could forbid him from doing anything. A lot of what Sora did was endearing.

Though if Sora wanted him to linger that badly... It wasn't as if Xehanort wanted to leave. Quite the opposite, in fact. Xehanort would spend all morning, perhaps even longer, lazing around with Sora if their respective roles allowed it. ...He wasn't doing anything that couldn't be put off for half an hour.

"A bit longer," he relented. "I do have things I must do."

He had no idea how he was going to explain this to Ansem. The truth simply wouldn't do, definitely not, but Ansem was always so difficult to appease once he'd been deliberately ignored.

Sora nuzzling his face into his chest and fully relaxing against his side once more made the later headache worth it.

- 4 -

"I cannot believe you called me here to sneak away from your companions and play in the sand."

Finding some reason to get away from Donald and Goofy was something Sora found himself doing more and more lately. And not just because he wanted to spend more time with Xehanort. For all the problems Sora knew there was with this relationship, at least Xehanort didn't insult him all the time.

"Playing in the sand is fun."

Xehanort made a face that wrinkled his nose and reminded Sora of a person who'd just eaten something sour. It was an interesting expression and definitely not one he would've expected to ever see on Xehanort's face.

"It's the middle of the night," Xehanort argued though Sora doubted that had been his problem.

Besides, it had to be the middle of the night. He wouldn't get the chance to goof off if it wasn't. Sora placed his hands on his hips and frowned up at Xehanort.

"Do you want to spend time with me or not?"

A slight smile, half grin really, curved one side of Xehanort's mouth as he leaned forward.

"I was always told to avoid pirates."

In mock offense, Sora stepped back and placed a hand over his heart. It wasn't long before he was laughing.

"Come on, help me build a sand castle."

"I'll have you know, I haven't built a sand castle in years."

That activity didn't last long. Nor did an impromptu game of two person tag, once Xehanort tossed Sora into the ocean. Coming back up soaked and laughing, Sora tackled Xehanort into the shallow water just off the beach. The man went down easily, his own deep laughter mixing with Sora's.

Gently taking Xehanort's face in his hands, Sora moved up and kissed him. Three times; none lasting more than a brief moment. They were enough to bring a light flush to Xehanort's cheeks and leave a small smile on his lips.

"Stealing kisses now?"

"What kind of pirate would I be if I didn't steal at least kisses?"

Xehanort chuckled and stroked Sora's cheek. Without thinking, Sora leaned into the touch. Xehanort was always so gentle with him in moments like this; it was difficult not to enjoy the touches that came from this mood.

"We should get out of the water," Xehanort said.

They stood and walked onto the beach where Xehanort used some careful fire spells to dry them and their clothes. Of course Xehanort would be skilled enough to pull that off without burning them. He was... Great wasn't a word he should use to describe Xehanort.

"Stay for the night," Sora said. "Please."

It had been a few weeks since they'd spent a night together.

Xehanort smiled that fond smile Sora was pretty sure only he got to see and took his hand.

"Of course."

- 5 -

Xehanort stepped out of the corridor with a speech prepared. It had been some time since he'd last attempted to really speak with Sora about Light and Darkness. By now, maybe the Light's champion would be more open to listening.

It hurt when he considered that Sora likely denied part of him the same way everyone else had. Their respective roles in this upcoming war was a topic they refused to discuss; Sora could very well be putting aside who exactly he was. The mere thought of Sora not truly accepting him... Xehanort took a breath and closed the corridor. If Sora wasn't willing... Well, cutting this off wouldn't hurt any more than what had happened with Eraqus.

He wasn't prepared to see or hear Sora crying.

Sora was always so cheerful, so upbeat and bright and more than eager to bring happiness to everyone around him. Nevermind how Xehanort felt about seeing him in this state; Sora likely didn't want anyone seeing him like this.

Opening a corridor again, Xehanort turned to leave but stopped at Sora's:

"Wait."

A hand grabbed his own and Xehanort looked at Sora. His heart ached in response to the tearful, pained expression.

"Don't go. I- Could you-"

Xehanort turned and stepped closer, pulling Sora into a hug without hesitation. The corridor closed behind him as Sora buried his face in his chest.

There was nothing to say even if Xehanort had been any good at giving comfort. He had no idea what was wrong or what form of comfort Sora even appreciated. This was new territory for them. So he simply held Sora as he cried for what felt like hours. Some time during it he did move them to a seated position on the floor with Sora in his lap as he rubbed his back. It didn't feel like he was doing much of anything. In fact, any of Sora's friends would have done better. But it was all he had.

"Thanks," Sora mumbled into his shoulder.

Xehanort smiled as he played with the back spikes of Sora's hair.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

Sora shook his head.

"I'll prob'ly mess that up too."

He sniffed and rubbed his face on Xehanort's shoulder while Xehanort frowned.

"What are you going on about?"

"I don't get anything right. Too dumb and- I can't get the power of waking. Can't help them get Aqua, I don't know how to help Roxas or the others in my heart. I'm useless on my own..."

Dear Kingdom Hearts, what had people been telling Sora? No, he knew what that damn duck and the others were telling him. Everyone had a limit to how much they could take, and it seemed that Sora had finally reached his.

"You are far from useless; I daresay you're the biggest threat to my oldest self's plans." That may not be the most helpful assurance, but what was he supposed to say? "No one is perfect, and you... You have something special, something none of your friends have."

Gently he pushed Sora into an upright position and tilted his face to look at him. As expected of someone who'd been crying for so long, he looked dreadful.

"The power you have - your Power of Waking - is different. It's truly no wonder you have such troubles controlling it. It's hardly your fault you can't get a grasp on using it."

Now was not the time to tell Sora that he was consistently using it improperly.

"No. I'm just too dumb," Sora whimpered.

"You may be reckless, entirely too eager to help others, and trusting enough for it to be used against you, but you are not dumb."

Sora blinked tearful blue eyes at him and scowled but Xehanort wasn't quite finished yet.

"The ones who put you down, do they have a right to or are they judging you with no personal experiences to justify their comments? Do they have any idea how easy or difficult it is for someone to master the abilities you have been told to master?"

Sora looked away and Xehanort huffed. He thought so. Why Sora spent most of his time with people willing to insult him rather than with someone who cared, Xehanort would never fathom.

A few moments of silence passed, then Sora moved into him again. Hugged tightly as Sora sighed, Xehanort returned the hold with a looser one of his own.

"Stay with me."

"Of course, Sora. I will stay with you as long as fate will allow."

That was the tragic truth of their relationship: it couldn't last no matter how much they might want it to. They had a destiny to follow.

+ 1

A corridor opening in the room pulled Sora from his thoughts about Kairi. He didn't have to look to know who stepped out of it; there was only one member of the Organization that would pay him a visit like this.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I needed to see you."

Sora turned to look at him, unsurprised to see that Xehanort hadn't looked at him with that admittance. When it came to personal heart stuff, Xehanort always seemed to get flustered or close himself off. Refusing to look at Sora while he said it was the best Sora could hope for from him.

"Pretty sure you aren't supposed to talk to the enemy the night before a big battle."

"We've done much more than talk and I never once heard a complaint."

Sora felt his cheeks heat at the reminder and now it was his turn to look away. That was true, but Xehanort being here the night before the big destined battle was different. It was dangerous, and other things Sora couldn't put a name to.

"When you're enemies," Xehanort added in a quieter voice, "the night before a big battle is the last chance you get to say what needs said."

That got Sora's attention and he was a little disappointed to see Xehanort studying his bookshelf as if it was actually interesting to him. For a few moments Sora waited for Xehanort to continue. Instead, Xehanort turned his focus to the keychains Sora'd collected during his adventure.

"So... What did you come here to say?"

Xehanort tensed and still didn't look at him. He rubbed his thumb over the red rose chain Sora had gotten from Belle.

"There is much I wish to say, but... I haven't quite found the words."

Sora could guess what was on his mind. He knew Xehanort decently well - he doubted anyone could claim to know Xehanort well - by now. This version of him anyway.

Getting up from the bed, Sora walked over and wrapped his arms around Xehanort's waist, resting his cheek on his back and gently holding him. Xehanort could take all the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

For a minute or two they stood there, just enjoying the other's presence. Sora could feel himself relaxing more than he really should with a version of Xehanort in his bedroom; especially this particular night. But he'd slept in his presence numerous times before and nothing bad ever happened.

That first time didn't count.

"I'm glad you're here," Sora said. He felt Xehanort tense then relax.

Xehanort turned to face him, his hands rose to cup Sora's face, and Sora smiled up at him. A few moments of Xehanort simply studying his face passed before Xehanort was moving closer. The kiss was gentle, yet full of a desperation Sora didn't understand. He could feel it in the way Xehanort's fingers pressed into his skin, the way his lips moved against his. Almost on auto he raised his hands to Xehanort's back. One hand pet through his hair while the other rest on his shoulders.

It startled Sora when he realized Xehanort was trembling.

Sora drew back in concern to see tears clinging to Xehanort's lashes and watched as one rolled down his cheek. Xehanort's lips parted briefly, long enough for a sharp inhale. Gently cupping his cheek, Sora wiped the tears away on that side. He... Had no idea what to say. What to feel. What was he supposed to do? Xehanort was crying.

Xehanort was crying.

"It's so easy to forget why I'm here when I'm with you. I forget that I am... Nothing more than a useful piece in a game of chess."

There was so much Sora wanted to say to that. Most of all how bullshit it was.

"You make me feel wanted."

"I try."

The laugh was a weak sound that quickly changed back to soft crying. Sora reached up and buried his hand in the soft spikes of Xehanort's hair. Xehanort's forehead pressed against his a few moments later. His eyes stared right into Sora's with so much emotion that Sora was stunned into stillness. He'd never seen Xehanort's eyes look like that. They were beautiful.

"I love you," Xehanort admitted. "So much I-- Allow me this last night together with you."

Before everything ends, Sora's mind supplied. One of them was going to lose tomorrow.

In a way both of them would.

[yaachtynoboat711]

Fonder 5.1

A/N: I AM SOOO SORRY FOR THE HIATUS! I missed you guys. The secret’s finally out! The mystery of Mr. Gatsby’s identity is being revealed! There may be smut included in this chapter also. Thanks @babygirlofwakanda for helping me out with that! Lastly, the italics (besides the sounds) are Yaa’s inner thoughts. 😬😬😬😬😬 Reblog and like!

Word Count: Get your popcorn ready (~3.5k)

Warning(s): SMUT, slow burn, plot progression, introduction of a new character, few errors/typos

NEW YEAR’S EVE 10:34 p.m.

“I-I-...I don’t understand. It was you all along...but you’d just hopped in my DM’s right before I got here!”, Yaa attempted to collect the thoughts that had scattered on the floor.

Gatsby chuckled, “ Yeah, I know. It’s ok to be confused. I’m the last person you’d expect it to be, I’m sure.”

“So why me? All these fine Hollywood jawns and wannabe socialites rippin their own panties off just to get to you...and you choose the one non-celebrity on the other side of the country?”

Gatsby sipped some champagne as he listened to Yaa, nodding his head as he began mentally creating his response to her outlandish claim. He finally sat his fluted glass down on the desk.

“Not to sound like a creep, but ever since Tanisha told me about her bomb ass lawyer friend, I’ve had my eyes on you. Don’t worry; I haven’t been that close. I learned enough about you to still have many questions left over to ask you. You’re a complex and multi-faceted woman that deserves to be exalted. Plus, from what I’ve also heard, you’ve been eyeing me too. Why’d you think the riddles and passwords were how they were?”

He was right: she’d had her eyes, heart, and womanhood set on him for years. It began way back in the summer of 2002. Her almost 12-year-old self had no business watching anything graphic and raw, yet alone watching The Wire. Her parents encouraged to watch it surprisingly. Then it happened—he came on the TV. Though she hated cornrows, even in the early 2000s, she found herself head over heels for the peanut head with the cornrows—Wallace. She hated the fact that he was a teenage drug dealer but hell, that was life in the Pit. The season finale left her distraught, crying for days as though he’d broken up with her or something. She followed his work and had proclaimed her love for him for 12 years and now here he was—Michael B. Jordan—standing before her explaining how he wanted her. Funny how life works.

She burst into a fit of nervous laughter; he joined.

“What’s so funny, Yaa?”, Michael asked.

She subdued her laughter as much as she could. “I’m laughing because I know this has to be a drawn-out prank or some shit. The man I’ve been mentally dating half of my life isn’t in front of me right now, and he damn sure ain’t telling me he finna risk it all for me. Not against his own will at least.”, she stammered.

He raised an eyebrow at her disbelief. His shoulders bounced as his cocky grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, you think this is a game? Hmm?” He kneeled down and lifted her chin for her honey brown eyes to meet his calming dark brown eyes. “Talk to me.”

She nodded her head yes. “Show me this isn’t a game.”, she challenged.

“Say less.”

He lifted her chin some more. He went in for the kiss—an offer easily accepted. Jackpot. There was a jolt of electricity between their lips. As their kiss deepened, his hands held gently her neck, lightly brushing against her coarse honey blonde locs. Her arms linked tightly around his neck. His hands scooped under her large ass, picking her up and causing her to break the kiss. Her eyes flew open as she began looking down at the floor. The second time she’d been picked up and the skinny nigga was the one on the cusp of changing her life. Her embrace around Michael’s neck tightened significantly as she braced for an abrupt drop.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”, Michael teased.

“Last time I was picked up, I couldn’t dance for a month. You’re scaring the shit outta me.”, she sputtered.

There went that cocky,raspy laugh. Michael dropped her down and quickly caught her before she could get anywhere near the ground. “Oh, so you scared the skinny nigga can’t hang? C’mon now. You should know I’ve been waiting on you for a minute. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, baby girl. Best believe that.”, he reassured. With that being said, he walked confidently across the room to the couch with his scared thick lawyer in tow, carrying her 200+ pound frame like she was a bag of nothing. That Creed training made him a monster.

He stared into her eyes once again in awe. In such a simple expression, there was enough fire and passion in her eyes to light up the fireplace across the room. He slowly gave her lips more kisses, savoring them like the last of a 5-star meal.

“You got all of these sweet kisses, girl.”, he groaned, “Must’ve been saving them for a special reason or someone.” Not by choice, baby boy.

“I’ve waited for a long time for this”, she chuckled into his lips. Knock knock knock.

Michael’s head dropped and Yaa looked up into the dimmed lights palming her face, both clearly frustrated with the mood-killing visitor at the door.

“Who is it?”, Michael yelled as he re-adjusted his black double-breasted tux and bow tie. He walked towards the door, still awaiting a response.

“Me, nigga!”, the nearly hoarse voice replied defensively.

Michael smacked his teeth and opened the door. “The fuck you want, Steelo?”

“Mannnnn, it’s almost 2015! Folks lookin’ for you an- oh, heyyyyy how you doin’? I’m Steelo.”, he slurred. His attention was suddenly brought to the clearly annoyed Yaa.

“I know who you are. Nice to finally meet you.”, Yaa said.

He redirected his intoxicated “focus” back to his best friend. He’d recognized Yaa. “Hold up, that’s her?”

“Yeah, that’s Khalida, the lawyer. We’ll be out in a sec—”

“—YOOOOOO! She bad as fuck,bruh. Thick too? Niggggggaaaaaaa...I heard them fat jawns be changin’ liv—”

Without saying a word, Michael pushed his drunk best friend out the door like a dolly and locked the door. “Look, he’s drunk as fuck and I’m sorry that h—”, Michael apologized.

Khalida placed two fingers over his lips. “Fat isn’t a bad word. No need to apologize. Now, come on— we have a new year to celebrate.”, she replied.

Michael’s deep dimples and smile stretched across his face as he watched Khalida walk out of the door. “You comin’ or not, Gatsby?”, she teased.

11:09 p.m.

By the time Yaa returned to the action, there were more faces—famous faces—in the crowd. All in attendance were dressed to the nines with their CRISP finger waves, feathers, furs, pearls, and enough cigarette holders for an old Hollywood film. Yaa walked to her VIP section to find her best friend Tanisha lit off of her spirit of choice—Bombay Sapphire gin. Steelo and some of Michael’s other friends had joined her in the booth. Tanisha sashayed to her friend to greet her.

“BIIIIIIITCCCCCCCCHHH! Where the FUCK have you been?”, an impaired Neesh questioned.

“I was talking to Gatsby. You literally saw me leave. Second, I’m finna beat yo ass.”, Khalida yelled over the music.

Tanisha stepped back and put her hands up. “What for?”

“You know why. Gatsby ends up being my childhood crush?! Howwwww in the hell were you able to pull that off?”

“Sis...just know that I got the connect. Now shut up and drink--we gotta New Year to ring in.”

Without further protest, Yaa opened the new bottle of D’usse and poured it into her glass. A few glasses and three tequila shots later, she was feeling nice. Not drunk, but nice, tipsy at most. She’d stepped out of her shell of skepticism and began socializing a lot more.

During the course of the night, Michael and Yaa had been getting cozy with each other. They never left each other’s side. They exchanged flirty looks and “you goods?” When they weren’t refilling cups in the VIP section, they were deep in conversation, topics varied as their sobriety faded away. Then, it happened: his curious hand trailed northbound on her leg. Usually, Yaa would smack the taste out of any man’s mouth for feeling up on her, sober or drunk. But let’s face it: she was feeling him and it was obvious the feeling was mutual. She bit her lip and winked at him in response.

“So we just gon’ pretend like yo whole hand ain’t up my dress?”, Yaa playfully questioned.

“Yup.”, Michael replied with a grin. He was so proud of himself. “Finally able to get my hands on you.”

Yaa rolled her eyes. “Don’t getcha skinny ass hurt fuckin around.”

She got up, leaving him awestruck at her model-like walk.

“10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Gold and silver confetti and balloons fell from the sky. Cheers from every corner of the room paired with the popping of champagne corks. Yaa hugged Tanisha and kissed cheeks in celebration of the New Year. Yaa felt two taps to the right shoulder. Ready to curse, Yaa whipped her body around to see that the tapper was none other than Michael. He rubbed the back of his neck and flashed his smile, revealing his pair of ridiculously adorable deep dimples.

“I-uh...know we kinda just met like an hour and a half ago...but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind having the honor of sharing this New Year’s ki—”. Yaa grabbed him up by his lapel and kissed him passionately, yet drunkenly. She laughed.

“Happy New Year to you too, Kari. Sorry, but I’ve always wanted to call you that.”, she laughed.

1:47 a.m.

Thud. For all it’s worth, Yaa’s back as going to be sore for the next couple of days from the impact of hitting her back against her chest of drawers. She also couldn’t have given half a fuck about her neck or her back. Hell, sis was finally getting dick. The more violent her and Michael’s tongues were becoming in each other’s mouths, the more familiar their hands were becoming with each other’s clothes and bodies. Still focused on his Dom Perignon-flavored kisses, her hands anxiously searched for his belt. But before she could unbuckle his pants, the D’usse demon jumped out. She smirked seductively as she boldly grabbed his print and freed herself from his arms.

“Oh shit.”, he mumbled, “So, you nasty nasty.”

The devilish smirk she gave was all the response he needed. She slowly got on her knees and freed his dick from the constraints of his pants, licking its length on both sides. Her head bobbed to the beat of the music playing in her head. Watching her bob on his dick, he began undoing the bottom of her chignon so that the rest of her hair wouldn’t get in the way of his undoing.

Thud. His head went against the wall as his undoing was becoming apparent. He cursed under his breath and kept his bottom row of teeth tucked underneath his bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud. Yaa would have cared less for his current state. She continued to slurp and coat his rock-hard member with spit. Keeping eye contact, Yaa continued licking him like a melting popsicle. He growled to keep from moaning, along with a chorus of “Shit” being recited under his breath.

Forever came to an end as Yaa slowly got off of her knees. He helped her up, only to be blindsided by her sloppy kisses. She began walking backwards with him towards the king-sized bed but stopped at the edge of the bed.

He placed her on the edge of the bed. Michael kissed her lips gently and slowly began to make his way to her promised land. His kisses became wet as he made his way down to her neck—her spot. He kissed her collarbone tattoo, licked his way down to her large breasts, and paused at her nipples. With his hands now caressing her breast, he wrapped his tongue around her nipple and began sucking with enough pressure to make her moan. While he sucked on her nipple like a pacifier, Michael dropped his hand from hoisting up her other breast and began to timidly creep his fingers down her baby-soft skin and the scrunched fabric of her dress. Feeling his hand touch over her thigh, he began to aggressively pull up the bottom of her dress. There was a slight discoloration created on her skin from the irritation from the material being forced against it, but Michael didn’t stop until the bottom of her dress pooled around her stomach. Once he realized where the material had settled, he pulled his lips from around Yaa’s areola, fixating his eyes on her lower half. Quickly noticing that she was panty-less, he felt a smirk tug at his lips--better--he peered up at his flushed lover. “So that’s how you rollin’, huh?”, he questioned as he slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth before winking up at Yaa and sinking to his knees. Staring at the awe-striking sight of her glistening folds, Michael admired the intimate view as he could replay the numerous times he tried to capture this very image many a late night.

He pushed her legs further apart until her kneecaps were damn near touching the mattress before trailing his way up her inner thighs. Placing soft, gentle kisses and occasional nibbles against her hot skin, he increased his pressure, making her feel the individual pricks of his coarse facial hair making Yaa a squirmy, wet mess. Timidly reaching her glory, Michael brought his hands up and steadily separated her lower lips with both of his thumbs before pressing his mouth forward. “Looks like someone’s been waiting on me.”, he said with a cocky confidence.

Chest rapidly rising and falling, Yaa couldn’t form a coherent word, phrase, or sentence. She gulped heavily before rolling her head back as Michael’s lips connected to her folds. She gripped the sheets up as his tongue controlled her every move. He finally licked her wet opening with a flat tongue going from the bottom to the top. His tongue was a weapon— it was both long and thick. He licked his name on her bud—slowly torturing her it with every dip, twist, turn, curve, and dot of each letter in his name. He then inserted two of his thick fingers into her opening as he licked the letter "C" and began pumping his fingers at a moderate pace. Desperately panting from his actions, Yaa began to shriek once she felt Gatsby toy with her clit. This raggedy ass nigga finna suck you dry and ain’t shit you can do about it at this point.

His fingers picked up the pace the moment he noticed her unraveling, his tongue explored deeper into her womanhood. She struggled to feel for the nearest pillow, but when she found it, she quasi-covered her mouth to subdue her moans of pleasure.

The sounds of Yaa’s hitched breathing and impending sexual eruption ricocheted throughout the master bedroom. Her back was arched completely off of the bed and she held a firm grasp of his head. If it wasn’t a moan or gasp, Yaa let out a “fuck”, “shit”, or an “Oh Lorddddddd.” Hearing Yaa unravel brought Michael much pleasure—the match to his sexual fire. He occasionally laughed at her undoing; he finally had the object of his affection under his mercy, quivering at his touch. Right as he could feel the pressure change for her release, he pulled his fingers and tongue away from her now swollen bud. She quickly leaned up on her elbows to see why he was stupid enough to pull out right as she was about to release. He smiled maliciously as his soaked fingers neared his mouth. “Nuh-uh. I gotta taste this first, it makes the kisses taste sweeter.”, Michael explained as he slapped her hand away from his. Bitch, no the fuck he didn’t! The two locked eyes as he sucked his two drenched fingers like he’d just ate the last extra wet lemon pepper wing.

He motioned for her to sit up. Before he could even ask, Yaa leaned in to taste her sweet essence on his tongue. A shiver shot down his spine as her candy apple colored nail gently traveled down his back. Their kiss led to Yaa laying on her back once again. Michael bit his lip as he hovered over her. He snatched her by her ankle to the edge of the bed, sliding himself between her legs. “Missionary’s a bold first choice, don’t you think?”, Yaa asked as she handed him a condom. He chuckled, “Nah. I’m just tryna see sumn, that’s all.”

His thumb rubbed against her wet clit as his girthy member slowly entered her tight, slippery entrance. Yaa inhaled sharply as she felt her body tremble and his thick length push against her tight bounds. “Fuck!” She cursed, as she felt him move slow trying to feel each and every ridge of her plush opening. Their fingers intertwined within each other as he went further into her. The lustful gaze into her honey eyes only intensified the overwhelming sensation of euphoria emanating from her core. With her back now arched completely off the bed, her new position gave him more room to dig deeper into her guts. Her mouth was agape as she tried to breathe through her stimulation. His rhythm steadily increased with every stroke.

Watching Yaa’s scrunched facial expression, Michael moved his hands to grip her waist as he quickened his pace. Taking his off of her face for a second to peek at their connection as he smirked at the sticky surface of his and hers wet organs. With the erotic scene unfolding before him, Michael slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth once the sounds of their moist skin slapping against each other reached his ears. She was helpless—her eyes burned from the tears of pleasure and she struggled to grip onto the gold link chain that dangled from his neck. Her moans and whimpers continued to fuel his drive. Chuckling darkly at her body’s responsiveness he said, “Yea, this is that shit I was talking bout. Just listen to that shit speaking out to me, fuck.” before fluttering his eyes closed and pounding into her.

3:34 a.m.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of the headboard repeatedly being knocked against the wall served as a light sound buffer to Michael and Yaa’s moaning. Michael’s thick hand applied the perfect amount of pressure around her neck as he continued to deliver those dangerous strokes. Just as they were able to sync their rhythms, he pulled out. This nigga done lost his Black ass mind. She opened her mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by the sudden shift from her back to her tummy. “On your knees. Now.”, he commanded as he smacked her ass. She as she was told—only to be rewarded with the reunion of his lips to her lower lips. No, he didn’t, bitch! The byke?! He eatin’ it from the muhfuckin’ byke?! This is Daddy!! Fuck a Winston,chile. His alternating kissing and sucking on her swollen bud caused her to fall flat on her stomach from the overstimulation. His hand went underneath her to lift her back up. He centered himself before sliding his member back into her. He slowly increased his tempo as he twisted her locs into his fist.

Yaa’s voice was hoarse. Had been hoarse half an hour ago. She had been depleted of any common sense she’d thought she had and was running on adrenaline. Michael, though appearing to be the victor of the night’s bout, was still at odds with his challenger. She was tired but still fighting like hell. He sweated profusely—like a champ battling it out in the 11th round. She wasn’t going down with a fight. He flipped her around one last time. This time, he pinned her legs past her ears—a position that both were surprised by.

“You ain’t tappin’ out?”, he asked between pumps

“Why and you about to tap out yourself? Let’s tap out at the same time since you so damn excited.”, the raspy-voiced Yaa boldly replied.

“Aight, say less.”

He went into overdrive. He quickly moved her legs from near her ears to around his waist. Not even two minutes later, the pair released within seconds of each other,his body collapsing onto hers.

“Don’t move.”, Michael whispered in Yaa’s ear as he tried to get himself together.

She shook her head. “Bitch, I don’t wanna move.” She paused, “Actually, I need to finish wash my face. Move.”

The moment both feet landed on the ground, gravity betrayed her. Her knee gave out, causing to limp and almost fall. Thankfully, Michael’s body was turned away from her. After returning from the bathroom, she limped to the bed. Oh, heating pads are the move all day today. This was the beginning of something different, and what a way to begin a new beginning than on New Year’s Day?

A/N: Yeah, sorry for the trash ending. I got too impatient.

I’m in the kitchen, TAGS ERRYWHERE!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @ljstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy @thememoireeofme @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

[spn-ficfanatic]

F*ck Cancer- Ch 3: The Beginning

SERIES MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER FOUR 

Summary: After your rest period it’s time to go back to the hospital for scans before starting your next cycle of chemotherapy. What news will your doctor give?

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Platonic!Reader* *For the Dean ladies/lads: it may not be romantic between him and the reader, but it’s a very close brotherly/sisterly relationship and I still think y’all will really enjoy it :)

Words: 2737

Warnings: Cancer/chemo talk, swearing

Sam and Dean walked either side of you, slowing down to match your stride as you walked from radiology to oncology. You’d just had scans done to check the lump in your brain and were now going to have to anxiously wait to speak with your doctor about the results. You flopped down on a nearby chair with a ‘hhumppff’, the guys following suit.

“I hate hospitals,” Dean commented glumly.

“You’re just jealous that I get to wear the fancy robe,” you told him with a smirk, elbowing him in the ribs. He chuckled and leaned back, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“So how long until we see the doctor?” Sam asked impatiently, his knee jumping up and down nervously.

“A couple of hours, she needs time to get the results of my scan and look them over. Get comfy boys,” you told them, earning a groan from each.

“Y/N?” you heard your doctor call a while later, and you turned your head to see her smiling back at you. “I’m ready for you now, if you’d like to come in.”

You nodded and lifted yourself from your chair. Dean and Sam did the same but were surprised to be stopped by your doctor.

“And who are these handsome gentlemen?” she asked with a kind smile. She’d always been concerned about your refusal to tell anyone about your condition, and you could see she was pleasantly surprised to find you had company.

“This is Sam and Dean,” you told her, and she extended her hand to shake theirs. “They’re old friends, they’re helping me through this. Guys, this is Dr Wheeler.”

“Call me Sally,” she added to them. “I’m so pleased to hear that you’ve opened up to someone Y/N. Now I’m required to ask you, are they joining you in your appointments?”

You nodded, having already discussed this with the guys previously. A part of you was worried about how they would react if the news was bad, but at the same time you wanted them to hear it first hand as well.

Sally smiled as she directed you and the brothers to her office and as you all sat down, the boys either side of you, she closed the door behind her and took a seat at her computer.

“How did the scans go this morning?” she asked you conversationally, and you shrugged.

“OK, I’m fairly used to them by now.”

“That’s good, I know they can be uncomfortable. Well, I’ve taken a look at those results and compared them with the results of the blood tests last week…”

She trailed off as she clicked some files on her computer, and you didn’t miss her smile falter slightly. It was so slight that no-one but a hunter would have spotted it, and you could feel an instant shift in the atmosphere of the room.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to say that the news isn’t what we were hoping for.”

You felt your heart stop, only for a moment. Sam and Dean’s hand instantly took your own and you felt them gently squeeze.

“The tests you had after the last cycle of chemotherapy didn’t show any marked improvement in the size of the tumour, and during the rest period it noticeably increased in diameter.”

“So then why put her in a rest period at all?” asked Dean, and you could hear his anger bubbling under the surface.

“It’s an important step in the treatment process,” Sally explained to him calmly before turning back to you. “Normally the rest period would give your body time to heal before the next cycle, however based on what I’m seeing here I don’t believe that’s a viable option anymore.”

You swallowed thickly, choosing to look at your lap rather than the pity in her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Sam commented. “Why can’t she at least try another cycle of treatment?”

“Her b-”

“Because it won’t help,” you interrupted her. You felt all eyes drawn to you and lowered your head even further, and started picking at the thread on your sleeve. “Because we’ve been down this road before. Because the same thing happened with the first cycle of chemo and we knew it was a possibility with the second. And because I’d already decided that if it didn’t work this time, I wouldn’t proceed with a third.”

You were embarrassed to be admitting this to them. Sure, you’d told them that the odds were slim, but never did you admit that you’d already made up your mind to stop treatment altogether if it stopped working. Silence filled the room, and you could practically hear Dean’s nostrils flaring. He quickly let go of your hand and stood, making a beeline for the door.

“Dean-” Sam called after him, but he was already gone.

“Go after him,” you urged.

“No, he can handle himself. You need me,” he told you firmly.

“Sam, please, what I need right now is to know he’s ok,” you begged quietly, resting your palm on his cheek affectionately. He closed his eyes and leaned in, turning it over quickly to kiss it before standing up and leaving the room also. When the door shut behind him you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Y/N? How are you taking this news?” Sally asked gently, and you gave a weak smile in return.

“I’m not surprised,” you admitted. “The headaches are getting worse, I’m having at least 4 blood noses a day, my vision is getting blurry and I’m bumping into everything… I haven’t even told Sam and Dean half of the things going on.”

She nodded knowingly, and took a prescription pad from her drawer and started writing.

“These painkillers should help with the headaches. Unfortunately I can’t do much for the blood noses and your vision other than suggesting rest when you feel you need to.”

She reached over and handed the paper to you and you took it, and she grabbed your hand gently before you could pull it back. You squeezed it gently, not letting go.

“How long?” you asked quietly, surprised that you had yet to shed a tear. You imagined asking this question a thousand times and each time you were a sobbing mess… the calm you felt at the moment was never what you expected.

“With the speed of its growth I think 2 months is a reasonable expectation.”

“What about my memory?” you asked her with a cringe, remembering the moment Sam had to save you from down the road.

“Because of where it’s positioned you will find you have more and more periods of time you cannot remember, both short and long term. As your time draws nearer other abilities will start to go, namely your ability to walk. Once you reach this stage, it should be fairly quick,” she explained. You nodded, and retracted your hand from hers.

“You can do another cycle if you would like Y/N,” she added. “I won’t offer false hope, another round of treatment would only offer a 3% chance of success, but I’m willing to try if you want to.”

You shook your head. “I’m done. I don’t want to go out of this life pumped with that poison. I want to be able to enjoy the time I have left, however much of it there is.”

Sally smiled sadly and nodded, leaning back in her chair and sighing loudly. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I wish I could have helped you.”

“You did,” you assured her, “more than you know.”

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

“Dean!” Sam called out, running after his brother who had managed to slip out a side door and to the nearby gardens. He was pacing in front of a fountain, running his hands through his hair roughly.

“Go away Sam,” he growled. “You should be with Y/N.”

“So should you numb nuts, she needs us both.”

“I can’t be in there, not with that quack doctor putting shit into her head like how she can’t make it through another round of treatment. Hasn’t that idiot heard of the power of positive thinking, or whatever crap it is you go on about?!”

“She’s right Dean,” Sam told him, and stood his ground despite the look Dean gave him. “Y/N showed me her medical records, and if the results weren’t good this time then another round isn’t going to fix it.”

“Well we have to do something,” he snapped, kicking a nearby plant out from its roots. Sitting his hands on his hips he took a deep breath and tried to calm down, resisting the urge to punch his little brother for agreeing with the wrong side.

“We will ok? I’ve been doing some research and I think I’m close to finding her a way out of this,” Sam admitted, looking around to make sure they were alone.

“One of our ways?” Dean asked sceptically, and Sam nodded in response. “Oh sure, because those always work out for the best don’t they?”

“It has its risk yer, but it’s worth it isn’t it?”

Dean mulled it over. “Have you told Y/N about this?”

“Not yet, I thought we’d see how today went first.”

“Well, it went crap,” Dean snapped in response. “Might be time to have the talk Sammy.”

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

The drive back to your house was painfully silent, but you knew that once you were behind your closed door they would have their say. You weren’t an idiot, you’d caught Sam reading some pretty serious literature and knew what he had in mind, and were prepared to dispute any ideas they had about saving you “their” way.

You watched the trees flying past the window and thought about what you wanted for your final weeks of life. You didn’t know if you were going up or down once all was said and done, so making the most of the time you had would be your priority. You didn’t want to waste time chasing after supernatural cures when you’d already made peace with what was happening. Thanks to Sam and Dean Disneyland was scratched off your bucket list, and while there was no chance of finishing everything you wanted to do you felt the majority would be doable.

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t notice Sam calling your name until your door opened and he knelt down in front of you.

“Hey, you with me?” he asked, looking at you worried. You raised your eyes to see Dean hovering looking just as concerned, and you smiled at them.

“I’m ok, sorry, got lost in thought,” you assured them. “Let go inside.”

Walking through the door of your house felt surreal, it felt like everything should be different but it all looked the same. The bowl from cereal that morning was still on the dining table from when you had to rush out for your appointment. The plant in the corner of the room was still dying despite your best efforts to get the blasted thing back. Photographs hung on the wall of you with your parents and friends; a large picture of you, Sam and Dean sat proudly on the hallway table greeting any visitors you had.

“Y/N?” Dean asked, offering his hand. You looked down blankly, reaching for it and allowing him to guide you to the couch.

“Let me get you some water,” he mumbled more to himself, and headed to the kitchen on his quest. Sam sat down on the coffee table in front of you, its legs creaking under the weight.

“I’m going to fix this,” he promised you. “Don’t worry about anything ok, what Dr Wheeler said… well, she doesn’t know the things we do.”

You looked up with a frown, and silently took the glass of water Dean handed you.

“I’ve been researching and I think I found-”

“No,” you told him blunty.

“Wh-what?” he stuttered, your comment catching him off guard. Dean leaned on the wall in the corner of the room with a frown, the same spot he stood when you told him about your tumour, with his arms crossed.

“No spells. No demons. No crossroads. Nothing.”

Sam looked at you with his jaw hanging, and scratched the back of his head. “If you’ll just let me show you-”

“I’ve seen the book Sam, I’m not a moron.”

You stood up as he stared at you incredulously. “This will save your life! We should at least talk about it.”

“No Sam,” you replied sharply, sitting your glass on the table and pointing a finger at him. “It might save my life. But I’m not willing to make the sacrifices you clearly are for something that has no guarantee.”

“Wait, hold up,” Dean interjected. “What sacrifices?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam growled, earning a humourless laugh from yourself. You turned to Dean.

“For his genius plan to work, he would have to split off a piece of his soul.”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he glared at his younger brother angrily.

“What is she talking about?” he asked, his voice dangerous.

“Oh please, it’s a tiny bit, I won’t even miss it,” he tried to brush it off. Your blood boiled, and before Dean could move a muscle you threw a punch across Sam’s jaw. He looked at you in shock, and Dean didn’t know whether he should interject or bolt.

“You’re a fucking idiot Sam Winchester. If you think there’s even the slightest chance I’d want you to take this risk for me then you don’t know me at all.”

You hadn’t shed a single tear at the news of your impending doom, but Sam singlehandedly started the waterworks. Shaking your swiftly swelling hand you bolted for your room. Dean called your name but you kept moving, not stopping until the door slammed shut behind you.

15 minutes later someone dared to knock on your door. After a decent crying session you were now sitting on your bed, looking through some old photos, and you frowned at the interruption.

“Do you REALLY think I want to see you right now Sam? Because if you do-”

“It’s Dean,” came the reply, and you bit your lip.

“Um, ok, come in I guess,” you replied quietly, and he let himself in.

“Thought you might want this,” he explained, sitting down next to you on the bed and placing an icepack on your bruised knuckles. You hissed, but took it from him with a small thank you.

“I didn’t really hear anything after I left. Did you… I mean, is Sam, you know… still breathing?”

Dean chuckled and patted your knee. “I didn’t hurt him. You got in first, I thought you’d appreciate keeping that crown for yourself. Anyway, I can’t be too mad at him for considering something I probably would have done if I’d seen it first,” he admitted.

“Et tu, brute?” you sighed, and Dean shrugged.

“Yer well, what can I say, he’s not the only one who loves you kid. Just in a veeeeery different way.”

You raised a curious eyebrow at Dean, not sure he realised what he’d just revealed about his brother, and opened your mouth to say something before he continued.

“He’s taken off in Baby, hopefully just getting some air and not a new plan.”

You nodded in silence, deciding to ask Sam about Dean’s admission later.

“What do you want?” you asked him, curious to know his thoughts.

“It’s not about what I want,” he shrugged. “Obviously I don’t want you to- you know.”

“You can say the word Dean,” you told him, taking his hand which was still on your knee. “I’m going to ‘die’. See, easy.”

“No,” he replied with a huff. “Not easy. Not by a long shot.”

You watched as his eyes became glassy, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. Suddenly an idea formed.

“Tell you what,” you started, your voice wavering slightly. “I have a list of things I want to do before I go. I know it’s corny as hell but it would mean a lot to me to get them done. Well, the things I CAN anyway. Do you think you and Sam could help me with it?”

Dean looked at you with a small smile and nodded, and you rested your head on his shoulder enjoying just being with him in the moment.

“Love you,” you told him.

“I know,” he replied, kissing the top of your head.

CONT.

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

SERIES MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER FOUR

MY MASTERLIST

Tag Lists (Open)

Series Taglist: @deghostyboi , @dreaminemz , @spence-rreid, @almostelegantfire , @ericaprice2008,  @mirandaaustin93

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People who requested tags, that I cannot tag (but will still mention because I feel bad :( ): @ronja-uebrick, @lilydarcy, @cabbagewithissues, @ruffdog921

[laketaj24]

Played Pt 3

A/N: Hey! Hope you enjoy! It’s drama filled. If you want to be added or removed from the taglist say the word.  Part 1, Part 2 Read First in Series Here: GAME ON

The storage place was on your ass about the payment for the lot. Three hundred dollars was not easy to come up with, especially with all your other bills raining down on you like confetti at a parade. You check your account. $192 would be left after you paid the storage company then you needed to get everything out and the drive alone was at least four hours away. This is the only thing on your mind for a few hours as you sort the mail for the carts. You could ask Ubbe, he’d help you in a heartbeat but every time you looked at him all you could see is the mistake you made and all the other things it spiraled.

“What you staring into space for?” Chance was a beast sorting mail, he tossed it like Frisbees into the right bin and he rarely looked. The time you two had spent together was one of the only perks of working at Lothbrok Holdings. It’s was surprisingly not filled with awkwardness and he was great at keeping the PDA to the locker rooms or not at all. No one guessed a thing.

“I’ve got to move all of my things from across state into my apartment in the next two weeks.” You say. “And I hate driving trucks you know? They just freak me out.”

“Aight, you want me to go with you? We could make it a little trip. All I ask is that you feed me, and we don’t have to listen to that old ass Chris Brown CD in your car.”

“Exclusive is lit! You were freaking dancing to it two days ago.”

“Wall to Wall was tight, but that cd is ancient. You ain’t even gotta feed me if you let me be the DJ?”

“Deal.” You silently fist pump because Chance could eat, and you needed gas money. “Are we going to get dinner tonight or does Thursday night TV win again?”

“I like you, but I’m not missing my shows and you have virtually stated you’re not watching them one hundred times. So, you can come over and be quiet and sit back while I watch TV or I’ll pick you up Friday night.”

“No, this weekend I am busy. But I’ll come next with you. I swear it.”

“Bet.” Chance smirks at you pushing his cart out of the room. He went through his routes fast in comparison to you. Your short legs hated the twelve floors you were assigned. By the time you got to the last one you were misted with sweat only to come back and still must do it again

The day continues to be good besides the loom of responsibility Hvitserk watches you as you place the mail in his box, swaying continuing to sing with your music. “Y/N!” He called signaling you to remove the headsets.

You do trying not to let the annoyance blows through your facial expressions. “Hey.”

“How are you?”

“I’m well Hvitserk. How are you?”

“I’m well.” It’s awkward for a moment as you both avoid eye contact and sigh.

At one point in your life The Sun rose and set for Hvitserk, even when you were Ivar you had a soft spot for him but the spite in his attitude when you left definitely was stuck in your memory. “It was good seeing you.” You say turning away from him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” He blurts. “I was unfair to you.”

“What? You have no reason to apologize to me Hvitserk. I done some shitty stuff to you and what I’m realizing with my Years is that karma is a bitch. I shouldn’t have cheated on you. I should’ve broke up with you.”

“You weren’t alone on your infidelity.” He says with a slight glance to Margarethe, Who was watching like a hawk from across the room. “I just wanted to say, I miss your friendship. And you don’t have to act ostracized Ivar’s the only dick in this family. And I shouldn’t have black mailed you and all that. I was Childish.”

“We were all pretty childish.” You blush remembering the wild times you and all the Lothbroks had. “But thanks for apologizing even though I don’t accept it.” You laugh.

“Are you going to the Gala Ball in a few weeks?”

“I’m a damn mail lady?”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t come, it’s company wide. Come.”

“Sure.”

  “She had a man at her house.” Ivar said tossing the circle stress ball into the air. He hadn’t found a way to control his rage just yet, it was always addressed with silence or breaking things. Not to mention Ubbe wasn’t listening. “Did you hear me?” He says throwing the silver ball at Ubbe.

Ubbe catches the ball not looking up. “She’s a grown woman. She can fuck who she wants. And you know Ivar you haven’t been the most welcoming to her. I know she left you but you don’t have to be a dick. You’re not the only one she left.”

“Are you talking about yourself? Hmmm? You two were nothing. Hvitserk and her had more to salvage than you two. Now shut up trying to gain pity from of my situation. Fucking politician.” Ivar scoffs spinning around in his seat. “But I was mean to her, I realized that yesterday and I went to her to apologize. And then I basically called her a whore.”

“You’re fucking insane.” Ubbe stands from the couch grabbing his briefcase. “She has to get out of the mailroom, either you do it or I’ll do it and I’ll take her out of this building period. And you know I think you need to learn to chill the fuck out. You’re fucking a woman too and you aren’t in a relationship with Y/N.”

“Get out.”

Ubbe laughs at his brother opening the door and making his way through the busy hallways. He spots Y/N singing her music and handing her mail out and he walks over to her. “Y/N! Good afternoon.”

“Hey.” She doesn’t have the same feel of disdain she had with him a few weeks ago. “How are you?”

“Well, headed to my office. Do you have a moment to walk and talk with me? I swear I won’t keep you from your work long.”

“Okay.” Y/N walks with Ubbe removing the small buds from her ears. “What’s up?”

“I just want to know how you are doing and is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Uhm, actually.” Y/N pauses. “I have to get some things from storage and move them and I am broke. I can pay you back. I swear it. I just need to get everything settled here and get back in the swing of things.”

Ubbe reaches in his pocket and hands you the black card. You look down, Y/F/N Y/L/N. “This is yours anyhow. Get whatever you have to and it’s not my business of how you spend it. I won’t say anything to him but take care of yourself.” He merges back into the office traffic and you stand a tad bit dumbfounded. Damn Lothbroks.

 Ivar’s estate was on the edge of town, on a bluff that overlooked the entire city, and he liked it that way. But he still missed his childhood home. The estate was missing things he hoped he would have by the age of 26, with Y/N for sure. He sits in the window watching the maids tend to the garden he had built on honor of his mother. The orchids and Lillie’s were here favorites.

His mind continued to roam back to Y/N as it always did. Even when he was content in his own world he would wonder what she was doing or where she was going. Then the new guy, whomever he was had caught her attention fast. Ivar didn’t even know why he was at her doorstep that night.

“Are we going somewhere tonight?” Nia said entering the room. “I know you said you were tired and all.” Nia sits across from him sipping her wine. “You’ve been a funk. I know your dad died but you knew it was coming.”

“I knew it was....” he cut off his words. “You should go home. Like now.”

“Ivar, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want you around anymore. So leave, please?”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes kissing him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

He doesn’t respond staring down into his phone knowing that he shouldn’t text her. Texting her would do him no good.

Ivar: Still got me on block?

The three dots appear and then disappear. He wasn’t on block.

Y/N: I should but I don’t. What is it that you want?

Ivar: Can you come by?

Y/N: I’m actually tired. So no.

He growls typing quickly.

Ivar: I just want to see you. Please.

Y/N: You can come here. You knew how to get here last time.

 You can’t believe he said that he was coming but you try to get what’s in your apartment organized so he won’t see you’re living out of a few boxes. He knocks on the door about an hour later and you try not to run to the door.

“Hey.” He says actually not in a suit. And for the first time since you’ve returned he looked

d like the guy you left. Dressed down in sweats and a shirt with his hair draping his shoulders. “You look nice.” He sounds genuine accepting your invitation in. He sits on the couch awaiting you to join him.

You sit next to him and try to keep your distance but you’re drawn to him as touching his hand. “Well, spill it.”

“I should not have spite fucked you. It was mean, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you. I’ve perhaps gotten worst at being understanding and shit.”

“I see. But you’re successful you don’t need feelings.”

“Why did you leave me?” The question hovers over the two of you for a few moments until his fingers trail up your arm and he shakes his head. “Why did you leave me?” He whispers again, pleading. He leans towards you placing his lips on your collar bone and the tingle of what was covers you. He breathes deeply as if he’s scared you might leave and he tugs you to him. Instinctively your arms drape around his neck and he’s over you.

His weight is comforting and hypnotizing almost until you snap back into reality. You kiss him once more and then stop pulling his hair from around your face. “We can’t. Ivar, we have too much to talk about okay?” You whisper into his ear.

He shakes his head still not sitting up from hovering over you. He sighs. “Why did you leave me?” He asks again.

“There was a ton going on and I felt as if I wasn’t becoming the person I wanted to be.”

“Yeah, how may times did you practice that shit Y/N. I just want the truth for one fucking second from you. Do you know what the fuck I went through when you left? I lost my mom and the love of my fucking life a few months apart. And all I got from you was a letter. I deserved more than that.” Ivar’s hand shake at his side and he breathes. “I searched for you.”

“I’m sorry. I left for me and it was selfish.”

“Right.” He says nothing looking over her. “I wanted to follow you. I would have followed you anywhere and I mean that, I can’t even focus now that you’re back. You consume me. So I guess that spite fuck was really just me losing control. I lose it all when I’m around you.”

“Ivar.”

“No! Don’t try to sugar coat this shit okay, tell me where you went.”

“I left because…”

“Spit it out!”

“I slept with Ubbe.” You blurt out. “I didn’t mean to, I was at his house and shit just happened and it shouldn’t have, we were waiting to hear where you were.”

“What?”

“It’s in the past Ivar.”

“I would have forgiven that.” He whispers. “You jumped the gun, I don’t care about you fucking Ubbe.” He shrugs. “I would have been angry, but I would have never left you. You left me for you and that was selfish and unfair. I love you Y/N.”

“You have someone and so do I at this point Ivar.” You swallow turning your phone over. Your mom always chose the most ideal times to call.

“I don’t love her.” He confesses. “I don’ think I can continue it while you’re here and I don’t want to continue pretending that you don’t have unfinished business with me.”

“I have a ton to tell you Ivar. More than you can take in right now.”

The doorbell echoes throughout the apartment and you hop up off the couch. “I don’t know why people never call before coming over.” You gripe. You swing open the door and his little piercing blue eyes bare into yours. “Ian.” You’d missed his warm tanned skin was the only feature he had inherited from you. He was Ivar through and through. “Baby boy, you ready to have fun?”

“Mama.” He says toting his backpack into the apartment.

Your mom turns her attention to Ivar. “I guess I had perfect timing. Your father and I are headed out of town for the next few days. You knew this, but the date got moved up. I’m bringing this little minion to be a roommate.”

“Mom, I haven’t…”

“Well you better.” She kisses your cheek leaving you to stand at the door alone.

You hesitantly turn to Ivar and Ian. “Sup little dude.” Ivar says fist bumping him.

“Are you my mom’s boyfriend.”

“Ian Lothbrok, shut your mouth and go put your bag in the room so you can eat.”

“Loth…”

“Ivar,” you say once he’s in the room. “That’s your kid, Ian Lothbrok.”

“Y/N.” He swallows. “Tell me this shit is not real.” His face is red.

“I can’t, it’s why I came to your office that day. I was trying to tell you and you assumed.”

“I ASSUMED! You should have told me a month ago, you should have brought your ass back immediately when you’re pregnant!!!” He yells. “You’re fucking horrible, you know that? You torture me and I’ve never given you a reason to.” You watch the streams fall straight to the floor. “I have to go. I will be back, okay.” His voice breaks.

“Yeah.” You breathe. “Of course.” You watch him grab his cane and slam the door on his way out.

“FUCKING HORRIBLE.” The little blue-eyed devil giggles. “Fucking horrible.”

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[petri808]

Porcelain Doll

Chapter 3 of  It Was Always You

It has been about a month since Natsu and Lucy have officially become a couple when Lucy goes out on a mission with Shadow Gear and comes back a little worse for wear.  How will the over protective dragon handle it?

@cosmicdragonwizard

Sorry ya’ll, tech support is supposed to be working on the glitches if you are reading this on the site. but it should look normal once you click the Keep Reading.  It seems to be fine if using the app.  Thanks for your patience

To say he was angry was like saying his battle against his brother had merely been sibling rivalry gone just a little askew, no Natsu was furious, livid, hell there wasn’t a word yet created to describe how he felt when Lucy walked into the guild hall.  He was already irritated that she had been gone on the week-long mission with Shadow Gear without him but had relented at her and Levy’s persistence that it would be a simple, no danger involved, we’re just gonna translate and catalog for the Magic Library some new materials they had received request.  

And now he stood there, heat waves flaring off his body, mid-transformation, staring at his mate with a swollen lip, black eye, and limping as she desperately tried to calm him down, begging, pleading that it really wasn’t that bad, it was no ones fault that a shelf decided to break under the weight of ancient manuscripts at the same moment she had been adding to it’s volumes.  

She was using every trick she had gained in all her years of knowing the slayer, all her skills to tame and soothe the demon back into submission and it was slowly working, first the reversal of his physical changes, then gradually his temperature began to come down.  Almost ready to take a sigh of relief that’s then it happened, of all the times to add to her dilemma now, when she had finally got Natsu to calm down!  She sneezed.  And not just one of those cute, something tickled her nose sneezes, but a loud, mucus driven, no air left in your lungs expulsions when you’re suffering from a cold.  Twice.  

He roared and surged again towards the cowering guild mates that he blamed for her condition, she pushed desperately against his frame, bracing him from moving forward, and now Gajeel and Gray had joined to hold him back.

“Please Natsu!” her tears are streaming at this point of desperation.  “It’s nothing Wendy or Porlyusica couldn’t fix…” but before she can finish the growl he emits sends chills down her spine.

“They aren’t here!”

“W-What?” she stops pushing.

“They left yesterday and won’t be back for at least a week!” tugging harder at the arms holding him, “damn it let me go you bastards!  Gajeel you know damn well if it were Levy you’d be…”

“Oh, don’t lump me into this, Salamander,” the iron slayer only tightens his hold, “Yes I’d be pissed but I got more brain cells to know this ain’t worth killing over.”

“Come on man,” Gray tries to reason with him, “Lucy will be fine, she’s tough, just some good ‘ole rest and patching up and she’ll be good to go.  Cause we ain’t letting ya go till you calm the fuck down!”

“Fuck you!”

Lucy let’s out a long, drawn out exhale to calm herself down.  The team had known Porlyusica was not home since they stopped there first, knowing this is exactly how Natsu was going to respond.  They had even checked Fairy Hills for Wendy, but she too had not been home, and they’d hoped she’d simply be at the guild; well now they know why.  Just Great.  The spirit mage knew she really wasn’t as bad as he was acting like she was, damn it she wasn’t a porcelain doll, and she understood his possessive side which had only grown worse after consummating their bond, but still…  Another exhale, she needed to get him settled down again, this was her problem, her duty, not the guilds.  

With the two men holding her mate firmly enough, Lucy cups his blazing cheeks and forces him to look at her directly.  She holds his gaze, searching, imploring, his emeralds still fiery as they melted her chocolate hues, moisture teeming again, her lips part, sweeping into a smile and voice is soft, gentle like a delicate flower petal despite the sniffles she was holding at bay.  “Natsu,” kissing his lips ever so tenderly, “My love, my mate, I need you to come back to me.  If Wendy is not here I will need your help until I feel better.  Please?”  

His head lowers and rests against her forehead as his body stills.  Oh, Mavis he was still livid, but she was right, he need to take care of his responsibilities, and Lucy was his priority not these idiots around him; he could beat them up a little later; a twitch of his lip at that last thought.  Finally, it’s his turn to exhale and relax his body.  “Alright…”

She tilts his head back up and kisses him again, “Take me home, dragon.”

~~

First things first, he leaves her next to the tub to strip while he runs a bath for his mate and gathers other necessities.  As the water fills he checks her over more closely and aside from the black eye and lip that is less swollen than it was earlier, noting bruises on her side over her ribs and likely the bones themselves where the shelf had come to land, and the ankle that was inflamed and would need to be wrapped, received as she tried but failed to get out of the way.  Another round of sneezes.  Now that was another issue.  With her energy reserves lowered, catching a cold on their way back was a new problem developing quickly and just in the half hour from when they had met up at the guild, the congestion had gotten worse, and was well on its way towards the next symptom.  

Body sore all over, all she wanted to do was unwind in a nice hot bath with her man, so after scrubbing their bodies and rinsing, he picks her up and lowers them both into the steaming waters, settling the blonde between his legs and keeping his arms around her waist, careful against her bruises.  It felt so good, her wispy sighs convey as she relaxes against his chest, all the aches and pains, the memories of that stupid mission dissolving away into the water molecules that surrounded them.  

It had only been a month since they had gone from friends to lovers and they were still adjusting to the differences.  Granted, the pair had been so close before the change that not a whole lot did, but one thing was the possessiveness, and the crazy territorial dragon he had become.  It drove her nuts, but what could she do?  She had chosen him for better or for worst and no matter what happened they’d figure it out, they always did.  

She really did hate seeing Natsu so upset, it pained her, and if she had thought for a second the job was going to be dangerous, she never would have taken it unless he would be with her.  The worst part, was he’s barely said a word to her the whole time they’d been home, brows still furrowed and frowning, she couldn’t tell if he was upset, frustrated, worried…

“Natsu, are you,” exhale, “angry with me?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“You look angry…  and you haven’t really said much since we left the guild…”

Exhale, “Luce, I’m not mad at you, it’s just,” longer exhale, “I know your injuries aren’t that bad, a-and I know that it was just an accident, but it scared me.”

She shifts just enough to see his face, now tilted downward, and bangs shielding his eyes a little; is that a tear?  “But I’m fine, baby, why would you be scared…”

He looks up; it was tears…  “yeah, this time, but what if it had been different…  People die from accidents too, and I wasn’t there…” she turns all the way around to face him as tears of her own build.  “…I can’t protect you if I’m not there.  I-I can’t lose you Lucy, do you understand that?”

“Natsu…” pressing her lips gently to his and sweeping away the tears along his cheeks, “I’m so sorry, I really wouldn’t have gone if I thought something bad would happen.”  Now they are both crying, “I promise, I’ll never go anywhere without you again, it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”          

A small smile finally rewards Lucy as he returns her kisses and reminds himself she’s still here, in his arms where she belongs.  She smiles back, tousling her fingers through his hair a little before, sliding them along his face and neck.  He doesn’t know how this woman can be jarring and yet so soothing to his soul, how she manages to pacify the swirling emotions that is him and keep her wits about her.  Mavis, how he’d die for this woman!  His arms enfold her again, turning her to rest against his chest, and kisses the back of her head.  Yes, he still wants to beat up Shadow Gear a little just because, but they are damn lucky that this vengeful dragon slash demon can be tamed by his mate.

They stay there for quite some time, the water never getting any cooler thanks to his natural body heat, and as wrinkled as some of their extremities may get, even Lucy succumbs to the serenity of the water, lids growing heavy and drowsy.  Under different circumstances, the two of them naked in a tub would have led to a much more pleasurable experience but she needed to rest, and he wouldn’t risk adding to her bruises, chuckling in his head, ‘I can contribute new ones later.’

Natsu takes her out of the bath and gets her ready for bed before she could fully pass out and be much more difficult to handle.  He applies salves to her bruises and bandages her ribs, wraps her ankle, happy to see the discoloration over her eye and lip have lightened considerably, and lastly forces her to take some medicine for the cold he knows is going to rear its ugly head tomorrow.  Cuts, broken bones, with plenty of experience, these are things he can deal with, but colds, that’s something he’s dreading.  All his life, he’s never suffered from colds, his body seemingly immune to infections so all he can hope is to do the right things to help her through it, and it will take much more than simply digging up a tree to make her feel better.  With her safely tucked under the covers and bundled in his arms, they drift off into the night.

~~

“Ah choo!  Ugh….  Ah choo!  Ugh, I feel like shit…”

It had been two days since he’d got her home, two days of a steadily worsening cold, two friggin days of running himself blind not knowing how to deal with it, and worst of all it was just the beginning.  

As Lucy stayed dead to the world yesterday morning, Natsu had snuck out, knowing he needed to get medicine for her cold but with no idea from where and he really didn’t want to go to the guild for help.  This might sound crazy, but knowing Fairytail was like a family, his friends would have insisted on coming to the apartment to help and damn it if he did not want anyone near his woman right now.  He knew himself well enough to know, the over protective side they saw the day prior was still lingering and could kick back on at any moment.  It didn’t matter to him if he was being selfish, she wasn’t just Lucy Heartfillia, Celestial Spirit mage of Fairytail anymore, but his mate, his woman, and screw what anyone else thought!  But shit, where the hell does he get meds from??  

So, he did the only other thing he could think of, asked everyone he passed on the street.  Two people pointed him to a part of Magnolia he’d never really ventured before, back alley shops, shady was an understatement, but if they said there was an apothecary then so be it.  Low and behold, the shop existed, and Natsu bought the supplies he was told would help her.  It’ll clear her right up, she’ll feel instantly better, the owner swore on his life, back to new in no time flat.  Well hell, that was the best news a gullible and desperate man could ever hear!  

Yeah, the slayer ran back to the apartment, excited and ready to shove the remedies down her throat expecting the ‘instant’ reaction that never came, in fact, he swore by days end Lucy looked even worse.  Pissed, he flew back to the shop and destroyed it, reducing not just the apothecary but the entire building it was housed in to rubble.

Back to day 2.  Word of a half-man, half creature destroying a building in Magnolia had reached Fairytail by that morning and of course, who else could it have been?  So, in response Makarov had sent Gray and Erza to Lucy’s apartment to find out why on Earthland had Natsu rampaged the day before.  But he had refused to let them in, even with Erza threatening to break the door down along with him, just wouldn’t budge and surprisingly, she didn’t follow through with her threat.  Maybe it was the storm behind his eyes or the menacing aura that had developed around the slayer as his anger grew that made her back off.  

Either way, the one thing she wouldn’t do was leave without helping and if medicine was what he needed, then that was what they would get for them, anything to keep the dragon from racking up more bills for the guild.  It had taken a couple hours for the pair to show back up with not just medicine but food and other necessities along with instructions for Natsu to follow, Mira had even whipped up a batch of chicken soup for their dinner, promising more deliveries each day.  He was grateful for the gesture, its not like he thought his friends had bad intentions, just right now, he had to satiate his demon and said demon wanted nothing more than to hoard their mate.

~~

The medicines were helping her sleep, much to the relief of her dragon.  The care package really had been the catalyst to turn their situation around, having taken a load off his shoulders, he could focus on caring for Lucy and by the evening of day 3, her congestion was better, which meant her couching wasn’t hurting her ribs as much, the cold sweats had subsided, her fever was at a manageable temperature, and she had even held down a full bowl of soup in one sitting.  The bruising on her side was no longer an angry purple but a jaundice yellow and the marks on her eyes and lips were gone, but her ankle would take longer to fully heal, maybe another week to be on the safe side.  

“Thank you,” she whispered as Natsu carried her to the bath.  He had been so doting and loving, it was a side to her boyfriend she infrequently saw but treasured seeing how much he was willing to do for her.  She had heard the argument through the door yesterday between he and Erza, how he had destroyed a building, and while part of her wanted to chastise him for what he had done, she couldn’t help but feel more enamored by the gesture, feel special that he would face the wrath of the Titania just for her.  Besides, sick or not, a little pampering never hurt a girl and so she gave in to the rare opportunity.  

He looked down at his mate as she rested her head against his shoulder, “You don’t have to thank me Luce,” and kissed her forehead, “I like taking care of you…”

~~

“Mmmm…” she stretches her arms and back before settling amongst the sleeping body behind her, Mavis she was feeling so much better!  Natsu groaned a little at her movement and shifted his leg over to pin her from moving again earning him a chuckle.  A week of constant care must have taken a toll on the poor man but thanks to his efforts, her cold was just about gone, and her body was almost fully healed, so now it was his turn to get some much, needed rest.

She turns around in his embrace and snuggles her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the smoky cinnamon, Mavis how she loved his scent, taking her sweet time walking her fingers along the lines of his chest, rising and falling, beneath her tips before resting above his heart.  Her heart, he had once said, his heart belonged to her as hers belonged to him, and it was a strong beat, telling a story of strength and of a love that could weather any storm, ebbing and flowing in rhythm through a life’s journey, and one now shared between them.

The brushing of her fingers along his side brings an exhale from her lover but continue ghosting their way to his hips and his abs, twirling the little curls of pink peeking from his waist.  “Luce, you should be resting…”

“It’s kinda hard in this position,” she plants a little peck to his collar bone.  

“You keep that up and something else is gonna be hard from this position.”

Lucy giggles and plants a few more kisses, “I feel a lot better Natsu, and now I’m wide awake.”

“Go back to sleep,” he tightens his hold over her, squishing her face to his chest, “as much as I’d love to play, I want you to be one hundred percent first.”

“I’m not fragile,” the pout evident in her tone, “you don’t need to keep codling me…”

He lifts her face, “I never said you were fragile, of all people Luce, I know how strong you are,” softening his expression, “but that’s still not gonna stop me from fussing over you right now.”

“Aww, fine.”

“Good, now go to sleep,” chuckling, “cause I’m tired.”  Lucy couldn’t help but laugh too.

~~

Word had been delivered via Happy that Wendy was now back from her trip and so, the next morning finds the couple heading back to Fairytail for the first time since the disastrous and explosive encounter with Shadow Gear.  Refusing to let her walk on her own, Lucy was riding piggy back on her boyfriend, shielding her face to the stares and snickers they passed along the street.  It was embarrassing for the proud mage but no amount of sweet talk nor out right beating on his back to let her down was working.  She was also worried about what will happen when they entered their guild, not so much because their friends would hold a grudge, but more so if something will provoke the slayer’s temper, and as soon as they crossed the threshold, Lucy braced for the worst.

His eyes found the blue-haired girl he was hoping for and walked straight to her table without acknowledging anyone, the priority was his mate, and nothing was getting in that way.  Members steered clear for the most part, simply watching, trying to gauge the fire slayers emotional state which didn’t seem promising at that moment.  After putting Lucy down on the bench beside the healer, he takes a place next to her.  

“Hi Wendy,” the spirit mage hugs her friend before Natsu pulls her back and takes control over the conversation.

“Wendy, could you look her over, make sure Lucy is healing up okay?  Her cold seems to be gone and the bruising over her ribs have almost faded away, but her ankle is still bothering her.”

“Sure guys,” she stands up and kneels in front of Lucy, placing her hands over Lucy’s side first.  Satisfied that the ribs were in fact okay, she then shifts over her friend’s ankle where her hands linger a little longer, Lucy can feel the heat coming off Wendy’s hands, permeating through her muscles.  After a few anxious minutes, the healer sits back down.  “Well you should be good to go.  The tendons were still a little sprained, so I took care of that, and luckily no broken bones anywhere.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Lucy hugs the little girl.  “Natsu took really good care of me too,” she smiles at her boyfriend.  Exhale, “and now I’m back to normal.”

Wendy giggles, “You did a great job Natsu, did you run into any problems?”

He runs his hand through his hair and finally smiles, “just a little…”

“Oi just a little?” Gray steps up beside his friend, “You friggin blew up the apothecary shop!”

“Hey!”  Natsu pops from his seat, “That bastard had it coming, selling me that crap medicine!”

As Gray and Natsu trade words and a few fists, Lucy fills Wendy in as to what they were arguing about.  Levy, Gajeel, and Juvia join the table in the midst of it, peppering the spirit mage with questions of how Natsu had treated her, while Erza stepped in to break up the fight.   When Natsu turned back to Lucy, the frown returned, for Jet and Droy were standing there talking to her.  “Get the hell away from her!”  Shouting and stomping his way back over, they immediately cringed and took off out of his path.

“Natsu!” Lucy screamed back, waving her hands at him, “they were apologizing, but it wasn’t their fault, so you need to stop acting like an idiot and control yourself!”

“I don’t care, they should’a taken better care of you.”  He tries to grab her flailing limbs, but she pulls out of his grasp, stands up and pushes him down onto the bench roughly.  Shock fills his orbs at the sight of his furious woman just glaring daggers at him.  Holy Mavis!  

She leans into her boyfriend, hands planted on either side of his body, and effectively boxing the slayer in.  “I appreciate how much you love me, and I can understand your dragon nature, but this mate is not going to tolerate you taking it out any of our friends!” She sighs, “Natsu,” hanging her head slightly, “this whole territorial thing, it was cute at first but,” exhale, “we need to figure out how to keep your dragon instincts in check, so you don’t end up hurting someone.”

His shoulders slump down, fuck it’s not like he wants to go beating up on anyone, he doesn’t want to lose his temper every time something remotely bad happens to his mate.  “I know…”

“Hey,” she kneels and cups his face in her hands, “I told you, we’re a team right, we’ll figure it out together, but I need you to help me too.”

He places his hands over hers, “I’m sorry Luce,” resting his forehead against hers.

She smiles, “the first step is you need to apologize to Jet and Droy.”

“But…”

“Eh,” eye brow raise, “no buts, it’s not their fault I got hurt, now go and apologize!”

“Okay, okay!” Lucy moves out of the way and watches him saunter off in search of the two men hiding somewhere in the hall.  She exhales and plops down on the bench, that had taken a lot of energy out of her.  

“You know Salamanders damn lucky to have you bunny girl.”

“Thanks, Gajeel.”

“I’m sure Natsu will get past this,” Levy looks over at her husband with a smirk, who quickly turns his head with a huff, “I mean it took Gajeel a few months to stop eyeing out every guy who even glanced in my direction.”

“I know…  It’s still early and he’s still trying to get used to the emotions, we both are.”

“But you handle him flawlessly,” Erza pats Lucy on the shoulder, “Gajeels right, you two couldn’t be any more perfect for each other.”  

Lucy looks up to see Natsu walking back towards their table, with closer to his normal, lackadaisical gait and so much more relaxed than he’d been through this whole mess.  When he sees her staring at him, the goofy grin she loves, plasters to his face.  She can’t help but smile too, “Yeah, I guess we are…”  

[smilemingyu]

Soonhoon “Ghost” AU Part 2

• Soonyoung is able to get out of the Hospital 3 weeks later. • During those 3 weeks, Jihoon spent time with both Soonyoung and Soonyoung's family. • Jihoon is there with Soonyoung when he is able to sign himself out, and Jihoon texts Jeonghan like he had been doing the past 3 weeks ever since Soonyoung woke up. • "Man, your life is crazy. I'm glad your Not-Ghost-Lover is alive. Can't wait to actually meet him." • Jeonghan loves Jihoon's life. • Jihoon drives Soonyoung to his parents house, Soonyoung talking animatedly about how excited he is to see his house and how he can't wait to meet Jihoon's friends the next day. • Jihoon is excited to sit on his couch with Soonyoung by his side again. • Jihoon also knows that he probably looks very fond of Soonyoung, to any outsider. • When Soonyoung and Jihoon arrive at Soonyoung's parents house, Soonyoung's mom makes them sit in the dining room as she makes a home cooked meal for them. • Soonyoung and Jihoon sit next to Soonyoung's 8 year old brother, who is drawing a picture that looks oddly like Soonyoung and Jihoon. • The whole thing seems very domestic and reminds Jihoon of his friends. • Soonyoung looks up from Jihoon and his intertwined hand when Soonyoung's brother goes out of the dining room to play a game, leaving his drawing on the table. 

• "So, you've met my family. When will I meet yours?" • Jihoon says, "You're meeting them tomorrow." • Soonyoung's hand shoots out of Jihoon's and immediately goes into his own hair. • "TOMORROW? WHAT DO YOU MEAN TOMORROW? I HAVEN'T HAD TIME TO PREPARE." • Jihoon is confused. • "But you knew they were coming to my apartment tomorrow just to meet you??" • "YOU TOLD ME YOUR FRIENDS ARE, NOT YOUR FAMILY." • Jihoon understands what he said wrong now. • "Oh." • "My friends are my family." • Soonyoung calms down immediately, and slaps Jihoon. • "I meant your parents, or like, siblings! Jesus Christ, Jihoon." • "Well, I guess Mingyu and Wonwoo are more like my parents. Mingyu cooks a lot and is caring, like a mom, and Wonwoo has fucking terrible dad jokes, like a dad. Plus they act like a married couple." • Soonyoung's eyebrows furrow. • "My friends are my only family, Soonyoung. My mom died when I was 11, which was when I could start seeing ghosts, by the way. And my dad cut contact with me when I was 18, because I'm gay. And my brother moved to the states and hasn't really talked to me since." • Soonyoung frowns, "Your dad seems like a dick." • "He is." • Soonyoung's mom comes into the dining room with a whole cooked meal, and Jihoon is so thankful for it because he's been living off of fast food ever since Soonyoung woke up. • Soonyoung is probably also very thankful for it. • After they eat, Soonyoung tells his mom that he is going to Jihoon's apartment for the night, and Soonyoung's mom smiles and gives them leftovers before sending them both off with a kiss on the cheek. • Soonyoung plays the radio in the car, and holds onto Jihoon's free hand while he drives. • Jihoon loves it. • When they arrive to Jihoon's apartment, he turns on the lights and drops the keys on his coffee table, pulling Soonyoung softly to the couch. • He turns on the television, and having Soonyoung next to him so close is familiar but also entirely new to him. • Now he can touch Soonyoung and wrap his arm safely around him as they "watch" whatever is playing on the television. • But like before, they mostly just converse. • Soonyoung kisses Jihoon somewhere around 1 am, after they were conversing for hours about different things. • Like what it was like growing up being able to see ghosts and what it was like actually being a "ghost". • Soonyoung straddles Jihoon's lap, kissing him deeply. • Jihoon sighs into the kiss, and he is so very thankful that Soonyoung is alive. • Soonyoung moves his hips, and Jihoon immediately grabs at them, pulling back. • "Don't start that, please." • Jihoon couldn't raise his voice past a mumble. • "I told my friends that we would be up by 9 and if you start then I don't think we're getting sleep tonight." • Soonyoung smiled at Jihoon. • "We should go to bed then." • And Jihoon seriously tried to keep from touching Soonyoung on the way to his bedroom, but he decided that it was okay if he didn't get much sleep. • But he lowkey regretted it in the morning when he heard banging on his door and that was what woke him and Soonyoung up. • Jihoon lazily got out of bed, and Soonyoung did the same, going for his bag and getting his clothes. • Jihoon grabbed whatever was thrown on the ground the night before, too lazy to actually go to his drawer. • He pulled Soonyoung with him to the door (which had constant knocks) after he was dressed. • Jihoon opened the door to see Jeonghan standing there, raising his hand for another knock, Seungcheol behind him, massaging his shoulders. • "Finally!" Jeonghan said, exasperated and pushed his way past Jihoon. • Seungcheol followed his boyfriend inside, stopping to look at Jihoon and Soonyoung. • He nodded. • Soonyoung smiled at him. • Jeonghan was still complaining about having to wait. • Jeonghan stopped in the middle of his sentence when he looked at Jihoon, "Is that a new shirt? It's too big on you Jihoonie! This is why I always ask you to wait for me to go shopping. God, you're a mess." • Jihoon blushes when he realizes that he is wearing Soonyoung's shirt from the night before and Soonyoung giggles. • "He's a cute mess!" • Soonyoung pinches Jihoon's cheeks, which makes him slap Soonyoung's hands away and blush even more. • Seungcheol runs his fingers through Jeonghan's hair. • "Babe, I don't think that is Jihoon's shirt." • Jeonghan catches on as Jihoon's door opens again. • "We brought coffee again, because you always seem to want to talk about your ghost boyfriend so eARLY IN THE FUCKING MORNING." • Wonwoo goes straight to the coffee table with the coffee, while Mingyu stops to look at Soonyoung. • "Wow, you're fucking hot." • Jihoon glares at Mingyu. • Wonwoo looks up and nods before scolding his boyfriend. • "You've never called me hot." • Wonwoo pouts and Mingyu's eyes widens as he runs to Wonwoo who was sitting on the couch. • "No baby, you're the fucking hottest. You're not JUST hot, you're a golden fucking God. More than that. You're beautiful. I love you, Wonwoo. Nobody compares to you, in my eyes." • Jihoon rolls his eyes. • "See what I said about them being my parents? They're so gross." • Soonyoung looks at Jihoon fondly and hugs him from behind. • Soonyoung rests his chin on Jihoon's shoulder and whispers to him. • "I want to be as gross as them one day." • Jihoon takes back all the "love you"s he said yesterday and the past weeks, Soonyoung is making him blush too much for his liking. • They all sit around the coffee table like they always do, and Jeonghan is still looking at Jihoon. • Seungkwan, Hansol, and Seokmin arrive next, Seokmin holding a card. • "I'm always surrounded by couples," He says, glaring at Seungkwan and Hansol. • Seokmin hands Soonyoung the card. • Soonyoung laughs hard at the joke inside it, "Glad you're whale" with a whale drawn on it, and Jihoon can't believe he didn't realize how good of friends Soonyoung and Seokmin could turn out to be. • Jihoon is going to die. • "Did you guys fuck yet?" • Seungkwan slaps Hansol. • "Seriously! Jihoon needs to get laid." • Jihoon glares at Hansol, but eases when he hears Soonyoung laugh beside him. • "I think Jihoon is great any way, laid or not." • Joshua and Chan show up, Chan looking sleepy next to Joshua who smiles at Soonyoung immediately. • "It's cool to see that I wasn't actually on drugs," Chan says. • The door opens to reveal Jun and Minghao, and Soonyoung grips onto Jihoon more tightly upon seeing Jun. • "I can't believe you're real." Jun says, as he sits down next to Hansol, Minghao sitting down next to Jun and Seokmin. • "I am." • Jihoon feels the tension on Soonyoung. • "Hey Minghao, are you gay yet?" • Minghao chokes on air. • Jun looks proud. • "He kissed me sober like 3 days after he thought we fucked." • "Which we didn't," Jihoon says immediately. • "Nah, I don't fuck shorties like Jihoon." • Soonyoung laughs and Jihoon is glad that he isn't as tense anymore. • "Good thing I do." • That earns a light slap on Soonyoung's shoulder from Jihoon, who is scared of hurting him. • They all drink the coffee that Mingyu and Wonwoo brought and talk about things, and Jihoon is glad that they're all being very open to Soonyoung, even if it does mean that Jihoon has to listen to his own embarrassing High School stories as they're being told to his boyfriend. • Soonyoung gives Jihoon fond looks a lot. • And light touches. • And Jihoon feels happy and in love and normal, for the first time ever. • Jeonghan also gives Jihoon looks a lot, but they're different from Soonyoung's. • Two hours later, Mingyu suggests that they all go do something. • "Soonyoung must feel like going out somewhere! Do you like bowling Soonyoung?" • So they all plan to go bowling and Soonyoung walks out of the door joking with Seokmin as Jihoon waits for everyone to exit. • And like he always does, Jeonghan closes the door after everyone leaves to stay to talk to Jihoon. • "I'm fucking happy to see you like this Jihoon." • "Like what?" Jihoon plays stupid. • Jeonghan rolls his eyes at him. • "Happy and in love. I'm so glad you're not scaring yourself away from it. You deserve someone like Soonyoung, he seems awesome." • Jihoon sighs happily. • "He is, Jeonghannie. Trust me. I love him." • Jeonghan smiles. • "I'm glad you do, it's about time you got fucked." • Jihoon glares at Jeonghan. • "Why do you always have to ruin our moments with something like that?" • Jeonghan chuckles, opening the door. • "But seriously, I'm so fucking happy for you." • Jihoon nods and offers his best friend a smile. • "I'm happy for you too, Jeonghan. You and Seungcheol have always been meant for each other, I'm glad that you are together." • Jeonghan blushes, before going to meet up with the group who were probably downstairs. • Jihoon turns to lock the door and jumps when arms wrap around his waist. • Soonyoung chuckles. • "I've never had a friendship like you and Jeonghan." • Jihoon smiles sadly, but twists to face Soonyoung. • "Consider them all your best friends, Soonyoung. They love you." • Soonyoung gives Jihoon a kiss. • "And you're seriously never going to be able to get rid of them now. I tried. They always just fucking stick to you." • Soonyoung laughs, and unwraps himself from Jihoon to grab his hand. • "Let's go kick Jun's ass at bowling."

[shadyscroller2]

stages of christmas

tags: BBC Sherlock, Christmas fluff, mutual pining, snow day, Christmas tree, jealous Sherlock, Harry Watson appearance, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, first kiss 

Summary: Sherlock and John are spending Christmas together after Mary has run off with David, while carrying David's baby. After that whole fiasco, Sherlock feels pressured to fix things again with John, but how can he do that when Sherlock's more than certainly fallen in love with him?

READ ON AO3

1- A Phone Call

"I'm telling you, Harry," John said, balancing his phone on his shoulder while holding a biscuit. "I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to your house party. I'm spending Christmas with Sherlock this year."

He could hear his sister, Harry, scoff on the other end of the line. "Are you serious?" she said with disbelief. "You're choosing your boyfriend over your own little sister?"

John rolled his eyes insufferably, taking the phone from his shoulder and into his hand so he could speak clearly into it.

"Sherlock is not my boyfriend," John stated firmly. "I've told you that before."

"Yes, I know, I know, you're not gay," Harry said breezily, and John could practically see her wave her hand sarcastically. "Not necessarily, anyway."

"What? Necessarily? What do you mean by that ?"

"Nothing, nothing," Harry was obviously smiling. "It just takes one to know one, you know? Especially since I've read your blog."

John furled his eyebrows. "My blog?" John asked. "What's my blog got to do with anything?"

Harry sighed wistfully as if she was talking about her favorite movie. "It's just so romantic, Johnny. I mean, the way that you talk about him. It's the kind of the way I would have talked about Clara."

John shook his head. "Right, we're getting off topic here, Harry," he interrupted, confused as to why he was even talking about this with his sister. "Bottom line is, I'm spending Christmas with Sherlock. Platonically. "

"Aw, come on!" Harry whined stubbornly. "My party's going to be great. It's on Eastcastle Street. Just a train ride away."

"Yes, I know," John replied noncommittally. "I'll try to make it."

"Right," said Harry in a knowing tone. "That is if your husband even wants to socialize with other people,right?'

John ignored her insinuations this time. "Right, it's just that we were planning on having some of our friends over from Scotland Yard on Christmas Eve. I just don't think that I'm going to have the time."

"Okay, fine," Harry said. "But just so you know, my party's on Christmas Day. The day after yours. So if you're not too hung over on eggnog or some of that delicious whiskey you've got over there, then drop by at the party. We'd love to see you over here."

"I'll think about it."

"Good. Well, I've got to go now, need to get to work. We can talk later, though, can't we?"

John smiled over the phone, a small smirk on the speaker. "Yes, definitely. I'll see you later," he said.

"See you, Johnny."

John pressed the 'end call' button, and he slipped his phone away into his pocket. He drank his tea carefully, looking out into the snow that was falling steadily right outside his window.

2- Winter Wonderland

The snow had stopped after a few hours, leaving a white blanket over the landscape of the street. Cars plowed through, pushing the snow aside, and pedestrians left footprints behind as they bustled around the city with their Christmas shopping. Lights twinkled from shops, and Christmas trees towered over busy ice rinks.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, wrapping his scarf tighter around himself and stuffing his gloved hands underneath his arms.

"Why are we out here again?" Sherlock asked, looking around the park with distaste, and at the snow that seemed to be covering the entire thing like a blanket.

John turned to Sherlock with a slightly annoyed look. "Because we haven't been out of the house in three days, Sherlock," John told him. "And it's just days before Christmas and I want to experience the winter."

Sherlock resisted rolling his eyes in the boredom of it all. "Do calm down, John," Sherlock droned. "Winter will be lasting for ages."

"Not Christmas." John pointed out, looking up at him. "Besides, these lights won't be out forever, and you know that Christmas has got a certain feeling to it. I'd like it if I wouldn't miss it."

Sherlock stuffed his hands into his pockets. He did have to admit that John was right about that. Christmas did have some sort of spirit about it, and if Sherlock wasn't the logical man that he was today, he would almost describe it as magic.

It was the first Christmas after Mary had left John, and had taken her ex-boyfriend (now current) David's baby with her. All that remained of her was the painful bullet scar on Sherlock's chest and an obvious deep pit of regret in John's.

Now less than a year later, John and Sherlock had patched up their friendship, and they had gone on without another word, without another glance at their past. It was as if everything was back to the way it was.

Except, it wasn't.

At that moment, Sherlock looked over at John, who had gone quiet and was looking at the scenery around them. Children were participating in snowball fights, yelling and screaming with glee. Parents looked on, dressed warmly in scarves and coats, smiling happily at their children from afar. Couples walked hand in hand, kicking playfully at the cold snow, and beaming at each other with bright eyes and soft smiles.

Sherlock couldn't hold back a surge of emotion that went straight through him as he looked down at John, strolling through the park. It was something that had been happening quite often for a long time, almost since the day they had met. Something was different about John, something that made Sherlock feel inexplicably drawn to him. And Sherlock dared to think that John felt the same way.

It really was no secret that Sherlock cared for John and that John cared for Sherlock. It had always been some sort of understanding between them. But it was John that would occupy most of Sherlock's thoughts, and it was John whom Sherlock would do anything for.

Sherlock shut his eyes and shook his head at himself, trying to release his stupid thoughts. Stupid emotions.

"Hey, you alright?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock with concern, and it was then that Sherlock realized that he had been staring at John and shaking his head. "Do you want to go home?"

Sherlock stuffed his hands into his pockets. "No," he said. "Let's just get out of the park."

John looked at Sherlock a moment and nodded, stuffing his own hands into the pockets of his coat and walking off of the sidewalk.

"So where do you want to go?" John asked. "There are shops at the corner over here. We can grab a coffee or something. Warm ourselves up."

But then Sherlock's phone chimed, and Sherlock pulled his phone out from his pocket. A text had appeared on the screen. A text from Lestrade.

An old woman has been robbed on Delancy Street. Everything's been taken.

May need your expertise on this one.

"Who is it?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock from the corner of his eye.

"It's Lestrade," Sherlock replied, snapping his phone shut. "It's a case. Someone's been robbed."

"Maybe we could go. We haven't had one in weeks."

"It's a robbery, John. It's a five at most."

"Doesn't matter. Someone's been robbed at Christmas. I'm going. Where is it?"

Sherlock looked at John, and couldn't help letting himself stare into the other man's eyes. John was so fascinating, so thoughtful; Sherlock found himself having to restrain the urge to pull John in by his lapels and kiss him right there in the snow.

"It's two blocks over." Sherlock finally said after a moment. "Just across the park."

John shrugged his shoulders, a smile coming to his face. "Well, let's go, then. I'll text Greg we're on our way."

3- Oh Christmas Tree

Hours later, after the case, John opened the door into the flat, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No. I don't buy it, Sherlock," John declared. "The woman knows exactly who robbed her."

Sherlock nodded as he shut the door with his foot. "She's hiding something, obviously," he said, and John turned to face him.

"Do you think she's trying to fool us, or...I don't know, maybe just senile?"

Sherlock stalked over to the couch and flopped his entire body down on the cushions.

"No, definitely not, if her wardrobe and her living state were anything to go on," Sherlock replied indifferently. "It's likely that she knows exactly who committed the crime but just wants the attention. I just need time to think."

"Well, while you do that," John said, shaking the keys in his hand. "I'm going out to get a Christmas tree. Our Christmas party's in a few days, and we haven't even gotten around to it yet."

"Our Christmas party?"

"Yes, Sherlock, remember?" John said with annoyance. "We're bringing the Yard over on Christmas Eve. I brought it up to you two days ago."

"Oh yes, I must have forgotten."

"You're a prat, you know that?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

John chuckled. "Right. I'm out. I'll be back in a bit."

As John left the flat, Sherlock closed his eyes, listening for the sound of John's footsteps as they retreated down the seventeen steps of the building. Then the door closed, and John was gone.

Sherlock inhaled deeply. Pressed his fingers together. Closed his eyes.

Then the world faded away.

A couple of hours later, Sherlock exited his mind to the annoying sound of the rustling of leaves, and grunts of struggle and frustration. He quickly sat up, wondering where the commotion was coming from.

Then that's when Sherlock realized that the noise was coming from right there in his living room, and John was the one causing it.

A tall Christmas tree was set up in the middle of the room, with lights strung together at the base, a rope of bright orbs coiled at the floor and wrapped halfway up the tree.

Sherlock tried to hold back from chuckling as he watched John try to stretch his small body to the top of the tree so the lights would reach it. It looked comical, like a little hedgehog trying to climb a tree.

"Come on." John was grumbling, trying to whip the lights upward to compensate for his short height. "Just hang already."

Sherlock got up from the couch, a smile coming to his face. "Here, he said, laughing. "Let me."

John turned around as if startled to hear his flatmate's voice, and he conceded defeat.

"Fine, yes, thank you," John said, handing the lights over to Sherlock. "Just...just twirl it around the leaves."

Sherlock reached his long arms above him, easily reaching, and he dragged it around the tall tree.

"Why did you get it so tall?" Sherlock asked, amusement still in his voice. John let out a laugh.

"I haven't got a clue," said John, holding back a grin. "It looked a lot shorter down at the shop."

This somehow sparked a laughing fit, and soon they were both giggling hard, and it took Sherlock a lot of effort to keep his focus on the lights. The energy in the room immediately felt considerably lighter, and Sherlock's eyes fell on John's.

But then Sherlock's foot caught in the rope of lights that hung down on the ground, and Sherlock tripped, nearly falling forward, dropping the lights tangled in his hands. Quickly, Sherlock tried to lean back to steady himself, but he leaned back much too far. His fingers slipped as they tried to grab on to the mantlepiece.

Then John immediately lunged forward and caught Sherlock in his arms, and Sherlock immediately grasped at the back of John's neck, stumbling on his feet, trying to keep from falling to the ground. John's arms held him tightly.

"Sherlock." John breathed from above him. "You okay?"

Sherlock looked up at him, and suddenly he realized the position that they were both in. John practically had his arms wrapped around Sherlock's waist and torso, keeping him up, and Sherlock had his arms draped around John's neck and shoulders, their bodies pressed flush together.

Suddenly, everything was very quiet, and time seemed to slow down. John visibly gulped, his Adam's apple nervously bobbing as he stared down intensely into Sherlock's eyes.

Then that's when Sherlock realized he still had yet to answer John's question.

"No, no, I'm-I'm fine." Sherlock croaked, and his hands inexplicably tightened on John's shoulders. John cleared his throat.

"Right, okay, good." John rasped. "Right. Let me, um..."

John slowly helped Sherlock to his feet, John's arms still wrapped securely around Sherlock's waist, and Sherlock's still around John's shoulders. Their faces were inches apart, so close that Sherlock could feel John's breath hot on his cheek.

"Thank you," Sherlock said awkwardly, not quite knowing what else to say.

John nodded his head vigorously, suddenly acting quiet, as if he was at a loss for words.

"It's all...fine," he said, looking up into Sherlock's eyes. "Any-" he cleared his throat. "Anytime."

Neither of them moved away, and Sherlock found that he was having a lot of trouble breathing. Because their arms were still around each other, and neither of them had found the need to move yet.

Then the sound of a phone ringing broke the air like a knife, and Sherlock's face reddened. The noise was incessant, like the sound of a screaming child.

"I should...probably get that," Sherlock said, immediately putting distance between them.

"Right, yeah," John said, snapping his hands away as if he had been touching fire. "It's-it's probably Lestrade about the case."

His heart still pounding, Sherlock took the phone from his pocket and flipped it open, and took the chance to walk across the room and as far away from John as possible.

4- A Christmas Party

John pulled the cookies out of the oven carefully and closed the door with his foot. Smoke rose up from the baked goods, spreading a delicious aroma around the room. John inhaled deeply, quietly.

"They smell good," Sherlock said suddenly, and John looked up to find him leaning against the doorpost and watching John.

John cleared his throat. "Right, well I hope so," he said. "Our guests are going to be here any moment."

Unable to meet Sherlock's eyes for any longer, John looked away, trying to focus on setting the cookies on the burner.

"Need help?" Sherlock asked, pushing himself from the doorpost and walking over to John. He stood several feet from him, with Sherlock obviously holding himself back out of wariness.

"No, no I'm good, thanks," John said, a little too quickly. "You can...um...just make sure everything is clean for everyone else when they arrive."

After a long moment, Sherlock stepped farther away, walking across the kitchen. John let out a sigh of relief, relaxing his tense shoulders.

It had been like that for the past few days, ever since the Incident had happened. With the Christmas tree.

John hadn't been able to think of anything else except Sherlock dipped in his arms, catching him in just a moment in time, in the middle of the air. After they were interrupted by Greg's call, they had investigated the case together. Since then, they both moved cautiously around each other, as if they were trying not to set off a bomb.

John shook his head in an attempt to free himself of his thoughts, and he pulled out the tube of decorative icing for the cookies. He just wanted to take his mind off of the whole thing.

But as John was unscrewing the cap of the treat icing, he glanced up at Sherlock, who was sitting still with his eyes closed in his armchair, thinking intently. His face was still, smooth, calm, and ultimately very attractive.

John swallowed the emotion in his throat. Why did it have to be Sherlock Holmes whom he was attracted to? Why did it always have to be Sherlock, with his perfect face and his perfect hair and his perfect -

The icing cap suddenly broke beneath John's hands and the tube squeezed, making the contents spill all over the table and just-finished cookies.

John swore loudly and immediately ran around the table to grab paper towels to clean up the mess. The icing had gotten all over the floor, like sticky concentrated soup spreading along the tiles.

Then suddenly, Sherlock was kneeling down on the floor with John, pressing a wet towel in a helpful attempt to mop up the mess.

"Sorry," John sighed, his eyes cast to the floor. "Accident."

"It's fine," Sherlock said, looking up at John briefly.

It was silent after that, the two men just scrubbing the floor as efficiently as possible, trying to get the sticky frosting out of the pathway.

John looked up, stealing a glance at Sherlock for a quick second, and then immediately cast his eyes downwards. He curled his lips as if it would keep himself from saying or doing anything stupid to worsen the tension between them.

After half a minute had passed, John moved to look at Sherlock again and was shocked to see that Sherlock was already looking at him.

John stopped scrubbing. He stared back, his eyes delving deep into Sherlock's intense orbs.

Neither of them moved for a long moment. They were very close to each other, kneeling on the floor on their hands and knees. The silence was deafening; like they each wanted to say something but couldn't.

Sherlock looked at John like he was trying to figure him out, like John was a fascinating puzzle, messing with his mind, trying to find out what John might do next.

John licked his lips, an unconscious move, his nerves buzzing inside of him.

"Sher-"

A loud and obnoxious knock came just then, followed by Mrs. Hudson's high and excited voice.

"Boys! Yoo-hoo!" Mrs. Hudson called through the closed door. "Your guests are here!"

John shut his eyes tightly. "We'll be right there, Mrs. Hudson!" John called back.

He opened his eyes again, and met with Sherlock's gaze, staring back at him hard. Then he stood up, making his way to the door, leaving Sherlock alone on the kitchen floor.

Lights decorated the mantles, and the flat was filled with merry decorations and the delicious smell of cakes and biscuits. Lestrade was standing with Molly Hooper and Sally Donovan, drinking eggnog and hot chocolate, chattering indistinctly by the fireplace.

Sherlock stood to the side, his violin in hand, softly playing Christmas carols over the conversations. His eyes seemed to always gravitate to John, who was smiling and laughing with a pretty new officer from Scotland Yard. She was leaning far too close to John for Sherlock's liking, and her smile was flirty and absolutely disgusting.

Sherlock quickly turned away from John, his body heating up with jealousy, and he could feel his heart sink. He stood facing the window overlooking Baker Street, where the snow was coming down hard, covering the entire road with a thick layer of white.

There was a knock at the door, and John immediately stood up to answer it. Sherlock watched, and he saw the female police officer shamelessly check out John's arse. Sherlock gritted his teeth.

John opened the door, and when he saw who was standing there, his jaw dropped. He opened the door wider.

"Oh my god," John said to the new guest. "You came."

"Merry Christmas, little brother!" Harry Watson greeted enthusiastically. "What, did you think I'd miss Johnny Boy on Christmas?"

John laughed heartily, and welcomed her in. "Everyone! This is my sister, Harriet!"

Everyone immediately gave a loud cheer, crowding around John and shaking Harry’s hand. Most of them hadn’t even known that John had a sister.

Everyone except for Sherlock, of course.

Sherlock watched heatedly as everybody crowded around his own flatmate, and his own flatmate’s sister that wasn’t even that pretty. Sherlock angrily stared, his violin clutched tightly in his hands.

Sherlock crossed the room in record time, swinging his coat over his shoulders.

“Right, I’m going out,” Sherlock muttered to himself, and he rushed forward toward the door.

Sherlock saw Harry come up to him, her arms outstretched. “Sherlock!” she was saying. “Nice to finally meet you! John’s been on and on--”

“That’s nice, get out of my way,” Sherlock ordered her, and he shoved her aside more forcefully than he’d intended. She gave a soft grunt as she hit the wall, and she stared after him with affrontation.

“What the hell?” she bit off, and John looked up.

“Sherlock!”

Sherlock was already out the door by the time John had grabbed his own jacket and tugged it on, running down the stairs as he followed Sherlock out into the snow.

The detective was already stalking down the street and trying to wave down a cab when John came up to him, his fists clenched.

“Sherlock!” John called after him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting a cab,” Sherlock snarked. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re being a prat, is what I think!”

“Oh, do calm down, John, it’s not healthy to get so worked up.”

“It wouldn’t be healthy if I punched you in the face right at this moment.” John snapped back. “Now apologize to my sister!”

“Why would I?”

John huffed a sharp breath. “I thought you were better than this, Sherlock.”

“Well, clearly, you were wrong. Like you usually are.”

John gritted his teeth. “Where is all of this coming from?”

“It really doesn’t matter, does it, John?” Sherlock glanced at him. “But then again, I suppose you already know what that feels like.”

“Shut up, Sherlock.”

“No, it seems like this Christmas really painted it out for me. You would rather chat up a storm with that cat-owner police officer than with me, and invite all of these people to our flat without really planning ahead.”

“Sherlock--”

“Do you know what your sister has been up to yet today, John? Because I could tell from the smell of the pubs of London all over her coat, clearer than her severe case of halitosis that’s been brewing in her horrid mouth for years. I can see her recent and disappointing affairs through her poorly groomed hairstyle, and the sloppily-wrapped presents in her gift bags.”

“Sherlock Holmes, I’m warning you--”

“But your sister is just the beginning, isn’t it? No. Because you never saw it. You never see any of it. I’m the one that’s the genius, and I never needed you John. There’s nothing wrong with me, because all I want this come Christmas is for you to be gone!”

The words came out before Sherlock could think, and he wanted to grab himself and stop himself before he could say another word. But it was already far too late.

John had frozen right in his spot, his face completely lax and devoid of emotion. Sherlock could recognize John’s soldier complexion anywhere, and Sherlock realized that he’d really made a grave mistake.

“Fine.” John finally spoke. “Fine. If that’s how you really feel, Sherlock. I’ll go.”

“John--”

“No. Don’t.” John held up a hand. “You’ve really gone too far this time, Sherlock. Not to worry, though. I’ll be gone by Christmas morning. Then you can get your bloody stupid holiday wish.”

Sherlock watched as John walked back into the flat, and he couldn’t help but flinch as the door slammed shut after him.

5- Merry Christmas

Sherlock sat alone in the dark flat on Christmas Day, the sun setting behind him as it slowly sunk into the horizon. He sighed, bringing the cigarette closely to his lips.

John, as promised, had left as soon as the sun rose on Christmas morning. He didn’t bother to take his presents with him, or to give any to Sherlock. It was an empty flat all day as the holiday passed by.

Sherlock blew out the smoke calmly as he lay in his chair, staring deeply at John’s empty one. He traced the pattern with his eyes, studying the unique color and appearance like he did when John was there.

But it was no use. Sherlock’s mind kept returning to his estranged flatmate, the one that he had ultimately driven away.

It was wrong. It was so wrong.

Sherlock sighed heavily, feeling his eyes become warm with moisture.

All he ever really wanted was for John to be happy, and he hated himself for getting so carried away. If only he wasn’t in love with John Watson, he wouldn’t have been so scared and let his emotions overcome the power of his mind.

The realization hit Sherlock so hard that he let out a gasp, and his eyes flew open as if he was just shot.

Oh god. That was it.

He was in love with John Watson

Sherlock drew his hands to his face in absolute frustration and pity for himself.

How could he have been so blind?

Sherlock jumped up to his feet, shrugging on his coat again, bounding down the stairs as he tugged it on over his shoulders.

Sherlock had to tell him. He just had to. That was the last thing he’d do before anything else could occur. Sherlock had to tell him.

The cold air slapped Sherlock in the face as he opened the door, and Sherlock could only lift a hand against the strong wind as he made his way down Baker Street.

He pushed people aside as he rushed down the sidewalk, his coat billowing behind him as he panted with exertion.

“Eastcastle, Eastcastle…” Sherlock muttered to himself. “The street. Must find the street.”

He must find John.

Sherlock ran through the streets of London, fighting past fast-going cars threatening to run him over, and ‘DONT WALK’ street signs flashing in his eyes.

He didn’t care. He couldn’t care less.

Only John was what really mattered.

Sherlock searched left and right, his eyes scanning the entire sidewalk area, looking for that one address.

Then he found it.

The address number glowed on a big red door, decorated with just a simple wreath and ornaments that complemented the otherwise bland object.

Sherlock took a deep breath, carrying himself over to the door. He wasn’t even sure what he was meant to do; he just knew that he didn’t want to spend another Christmas moment without his John.

Sherlock rang once, anxiously. Then he rang twice.

Three times.

Then he resorted to knocking.

The door finally flew open, making Sherlock’s heart jump with soaring hope.

“Right, is John there?” Sherlock asked.

It was a woman standing at the door, no older than twenty-five, looking at Sherlock like he had grown five heads.

“Um, well, I don’t know a John,” said the woman. “Unless you’re talking about Harry’s little brother?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes. Yes that’s him. Can you just...tell him that Sherlock’s here to see him?”

“Margaret, what’s the commotion out here…” Harry looked once at Sherlock and quickly pushed him away.

“Harry, wait, please.”

“Sherlock Holmes. You’re not welcome here.”

“I know, I know, and I apologize for shoving you—"

“Shoving me?!” Harry shouted. “Give me a break! I’ve gotten worse from Johnny when I stole his action figures when we were little rug rats!”

“Then what’s—"

“I’ll tell you what you did, Sherlock!” Harry interrupted with a sigh. “You broke my brother’s heart.”

“I what?”

“He loved you, you know,” Harry responded. “And then you go and you say all those mean things to him, and you expect him to forgive you so quickly?”

Sherlock looked down at the ground. “I don’t expect John to do anything more for me.”

Harry looked at him incredulously. “Then why are you here?”

Sherlock inhaled sharply. He looked at Harry.

Then his face fell as John came into view, looking between Harry and the door, his eyes landing on Sherlock.

John and Sherlock stared at each other for what felt like ages, leaving Sherlock with nothing to do but forget what he was meant to say.

“Sherlock, answer her,” John said, his voice soft. “Why are you here?”

“John, I…” Sherlock paused. He swallowed. “I‘ve just got something to tell you and I’ve got to say it quickly.”

John ushered. “Go on, then.”

Sherlock looked to Harry, and she nodded. Harry left without another word.

John watched her leave, his brows wrinkling as he tried to put two and two together. “I don’t understand Sherlock. I thought that…”

“I was wrong, John.”

Sherlock looked at him, and John looked back in shock. He stepped down from the door sill, closing Harry’s door behind him.

“Well that’s new.”

“Just...please, let me speak.”

“Okay.”

Sherlock walked closer to John, trying to gauge his flatmate’s expressions. The snow fell around them like a flurry of ice, surrounding them until they were the only ones left in the world.

“John, listen, um…” Sherlock paused. “For a long time now, you were always considered my only friend. And for that I appreciated you, because you helped me with everything that I worked for. Even if you were just an average goldfish.”

“Jesus Christ, Sherlock,” John said rubbing his face. “Can’t you just say you’re sorry? Something that actually means something? For God’s sake, cut to the point, without leaving me—”

“I’m in love with you.”

John froze in place, looking up at Sherlock in absolute shock. Sherlock shifted into his feet, staring into John’s eyes with sheer desperation.

“What did you just say?” John croaked.

“I said,” Sherlock repeated softly. “I’m in love with you. John. Watson.”

“What?”

“It’s a bit of a revelation, I know,” Sherlock whispered. “But I realized it today when I had spent all of Christmas with myself and all I could think about was having you there.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“I know.”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Obviously.”

John let out a disbelieving laugh, and Sherlock chuckled too, a burst of air from his nostrils. He looked at John tenderly, furling his lips in anticipation.

John whispered, “I don’t know what to say.”

“I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” Sherlock murmured towards him. “I just realized that it’s Christmas, and it’s more of a time for miracles than any other time, so I just thought—”

“Sherlock, shut up.”

John grabbed his face and kissed him, making Sherlock startled as he stumbled on his feet. He felt John’s hands come around to steady him, and Sherlock kissed back, his arms coming around John’s torso.

The kiss was deep and cold, with John’s lips taking full advantage of Sherlock’s lavish and supple ones. Sherlock moaned into his mouth, clutching on to John’s jacket to assure himself of reality.

John was the first to break for air, and Sherlock gasped for breath. John laughed, his hands curling into Sherlock’s hair.

“You really do love me, then, don’t you?” John asked, looking up at him.

“Yes.” Sherlock said desperately. “More than I can express.”

“Well, then,” John huffed a laugh. “That’s the best news that I’ve heard in a long time.”

“So you do—"

“Yes, you bloody prat, I’m in love with you too.”

Sherlock kissed John again, chasing the laughter from the shorter man’s lips. John wrapped his arms completely around Sherlock’s neck, drawing them both closer. Sherlock grinned against his mouth, and John let out another laugh.

A couple of minutes passed by as they both finally made up for lost time in the middle of the empty sidewalk, with Sherlock wrapping them both in his long coat, and John burrowing himself into Sherlock’s chest.

It was a while before they pulled apart, and they finally noticed the rest of Harry’s guests staring out of the window with tears in their eyes, cheering hysterically.

John blushed, thoroughly embarrassed, watching Harry cheer harder from the open window.

“That’s my brother!” Harry cried, throwing her arms up in celebration. “That’s my brother, I tell you!”

Sherlock laughed too, grabbing onto John’s hand, and feeling incandescently happy.

6- Epilogue

“TWENTY-EIGHT! TWENTY-SEVEN! TWENTY-SIX!”

“Sherlock, it’s starting!”

“You don’t have to shout, John, I’m right here.”

“Well sometimes you’re bloody easy to miss.”

“Impossible, John, especially since I’m tall enough to hang you on the bloody Christmas tree.”

John rolled his eyes lovingly at the detective next to him, and Sherlock smirked down at him, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to the doctor’s lips. John chuckled against him.

“Oi! Get a room!”

“People do eat in here, you know!”

John grabbed a piece of his sandwich and hurled it at Greg and Harry, who immediately ducked to miss it. They laughed as they continued to sip their eggnog.

“Save it for New Year’s, John,” Sherlock scolded, but his face was wide with a smile, his eyes shining like the Christmas lights in front of them.

“Make me, you prat,” John laughed, his hand pressed against Sherlock’s back.

“TEN! NINE! EIGHT!”

“SEVEN! SIX!”

John then leaned forward, feeling Sherlock look down at him, feeling John whisper the rest of the countdown against Sherlock’s lips.

“Three...two…”

Sherlock smiled, and he finished it with a soft breath.

“One.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

John leaped forwards, allowing Sherlock to catch him in a hug and kiss him, both of them laughing into it like a couple of children. Both of them had tears in their eyes, but they’d never, ever say so.

“I love you.”

Sherlock grinned happily. “I know.”

Harry started singing first, and then Greg followed, in singing “Auld Lang Syne” at the top of their lungs. The rest of the guests immediately joined in, swaying to the music.

“Should old acquaintance be forgot…”

“And never brought to light…”

Sherlock leaned his forehead against John’s, closing his eyes as he basked in the man’s warmth.

“Happy New Year, John.”

“Happy New Year, Sherlock.”

[spellboundebook]

Author's Note: Please let me know what you think! I'm trying to world build and let you into the minds of the characters. Hope it's working! On with the show:

Theodora’s heels clicked on the ground as she walked to her first class for the week. She adjusted her jacket for the fifth time since she left home. Theo hated these damned uniforms. The only thing she could class up a bit was the skirt, which she rolled up to show off her long legs. The jackets had no shape and were bulky. The color purple was tired, and who in the galaxy wore ties anymore! The only thing she hated more was talking to her mother.

“Theodora you should have seen it, who he brought to the Brenidears’ wedding. The girl was like a disease. An eyesore on the whole ceremony,” her Mother, a woman who looked a lot like an older version of Theo, said as she did her nails on the screen of Theo’s mobile.

“Maybe he loves her, Mother. You can’t help who you fall in love with,” Theo said distractedly, pulling up her notes for class on the screen in a parallel tab. This task required little brain function and she could multitask. The notes, on the other hand, she hadn't looked at all weekend, and class was in fifteen minutes.

“Yes,” the older blue-haired woman said looking down her nose at the polish on her finger tips, “That's all well and good until she leaves him and takes half of his inheritance.” Her daughter didn't answer with a snide comment and that made her look up, “Theodora are you listening to me? What could you possibly be doing?”

“I'm studying my notes for class. I haven't—” Theo started.

“You know if it's too hard darling, you can come back home”, Theo rolled her eyes, “Your father had to let go some of the gardening staff the other day. The yard was looking rather dull.”

“Just like this conversation…” Theo said under her breath, but her mother heard it.

“Theodora, are you behaving yourself? We don't want any more of those...incidents. If you can’t control yourself, I will bring you out of that place —”

“Everything is fine mother. I have to go to class now, love you. Bye!” Theo hung up before her Mother could get another awful word in. Theo shoved the phone into her bag, also giving up on her literature notes. Who the hell cared about some dead alien Shakespeare, who died millions of years ago on some planet light years away?

Mona closed her notes as well, though with less frustration as she had studied for 3 hours the night before. She sat patiently for class to begin, as the other students mingled and laughed amongst their groups of friends. Two boys played catch with a fusion ball, throwing it about the classroom. The salmon colored one with long tentacle-like hair told the other with antlers to go long, and he threw it. The antlered boy caught the fusion ball, but not before he landed in Monaedi’s lap. They looked at each other mortified.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there…” the boy got up quickly, snorting when he looked at his friend who looked just as amused. Mona would have replied but caught a sight of blue hair in the corner of her eye. When she saw Theo, she could feel a wave of embarrassment from this past weekend creeping up from her subconscious, but she pushed it back down. Monaedi looked away. If she didn’t look she could pretend the whole thing didn’t exist, and then everything could go back to normal. But she couldn’t keep away for much longer. Mona’s eyes were like magnets that kept being drawn back to the girl. She settled with stealing glances at Theo as she came into the room. Maybe she won’t notice at me, she thought. And Monaedi got her wish, as Theo didn’t even seem to notice her. And Mona didn’t know why, but she was more than slightly disappointed by this.

Theo walked into the class looking irked with the whole Xili Planetary System. She did not want to be here; he was here. Theo noticed him before he did her, so she went to go find her seat without properly greeting him. The tentacle haired boy did eventually notice his girlfriend. His face went from cocky amusement to downcast with just a hint of fear. He walked up to the elfish girl. Theo didn’t acknowledge him, as she put her bag on the table and started taking out her things.

“Hey, Theo…” He said quietly standing next to her. He took a small step closer, then thought better of it. He waited for a response, but one never came. In almost a whisper he tried again, “I haven’t seen you since the other night. Where have you been?”

“Mal’qier, I’ve been in my room. The whole weekend. You would’ve known that if you bothered to come by,” Theo slammed the book on the tabletop, which made him flinch. He looked around the classroom; people were starting to stare.

“Please do not make a scene,” Mal’qier hissed through gritted teeth, “Your mother would disapprove.” He was right, her mother would disapprove of her acting out in public. But she didn’t care about that. She did care about a familiar surge of energy brewing inside her; that she needed to keep under control. She took a deep breath and then turned to stare him dead in the face.

“You want to tell my mother on me, again, go ahead if that makes you feel better. Undermine me, like you did the other night,” her words were quiet but biting. She stared into his eyes, and if looks could kill… Mal’qier looked down, she could recognize the anguish on his face, even if others couldn’t. Theo started to feel sorry for him.

“I am sorry,” he said, barely audible. She knew he was. And she knew why he acted the way he did. It was expected of him. And to him, and to their whole crowd, appearance was everything. She just wished he would go against the grain sometimes...Then again, she was still with him, and what did that say about her.

“I know,” she said. Her voice softening. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t still pissed, “I’m still mad at you though.”

“I totally understand!” he said, but as things would be alright he brightened a bit, “I got you something.” He took something out of his pocket and then unfolded his hands. In his palms lay a phoenix flower. The little crystal bud bloomed in front of her eyes into a full grown flower. It had translucent petals tinted with beautiful colors that reflected along the walls of the classroom. it was the most beautiful thing Theodora, and anyone in the classroom ,had ever seen. She couldn’t help it. Theo kissed him pushing into his arms. It would have almost knocked him over, but he was strong enough to catch her.

The class hooted and hollered, at the two. Monaedi watched with the others but stayed silent. She felt heat rise into her face as the corner of her lips dipped into a slight frown. Someone cleared their throat over the commotion and everyone turned to see their reptilian teacher, Professor Thana, standing at the front of the class.

“Ms. Theodora, Mr. Mal’qier could you please sit down,” the professor said looking down her rimmed glasses. She used a scaly, yet old hand to adjust them on her face.

“Sorry professor, but who could resist,” she says gesturing toward Mal’qier. That gets some laughs and entertained gasps out of the class.

“Who indeed,” the reptile replied sarcastically rolling her eyes, getting a few chuckles of her own. While she prepared the board, Theo and Mal’quier sat down. As Theo did she caught Mona’s eyes. It wasn’t more than second, but Mona’s dark eyes shattered the facade and left Theo vulnerable like she never felt before. After a moment Monaedi turned back to face the board and Theo followed suit.

“Let us begin. We will continue with Twelfth Night, beginning with the Fool’s line: ‘Present mirth hath present laughter;  What’s to come is still unsure:  In delay there lies no plenty,— Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty’. What do you think Master William meant by this verse,” she asked the class. They stayed silent, “Anyone?” Monaedi wrote down ‘Live in the moment’ in the margins of the text. She glanced around, no one looked willing to answer. I'll give it three seconds ,if no one raises their hand, I will. 1...2...—”

“How about you Miss Theodora, since you're so full of kisses today,” Professor Thana asked.

“I haven't the faintest idea Professor,” she said slightly annoyed, but more nervous than anything. She really should have looked at her notes.

“It's plain as day, right here in your text. Break it down line by line. We will wait.”

“He’s saying...we are only really given the moment that we are in right now...so his love shouldn’t wait to kiss him back. It sounds like a make the most of it type thing?” she finally got it all out. Professor Thana gazed at Theo for a second, a wisp of a smile on her lips.  

“Very good. Now...” their professor continues the lesson. Theo let out a small breath she didn’t know she was holding. A small smiled crossed her face, she did it. She glanced around, but no one seemed to care so she settled back into her seat looking forward. Her sight lands in front of her on the back of Monaedi’s head where it stayed for the rest of the lecture.

At the end of class Theo told her boyfriend she would meet up with him later, and when he left she walked up to Mona who was packing her things away.

“Mona!” Theo greeted her, with as much cheer she could muster up.

“..Oh, hi Theodora...,” she says pushing her glasses back up her nose. Her eyes not really reaching Theo’s green ones.

“How are you? You kind of left suddenly.”

“...Yeah, sorry about that...”

“It's fine,” Theo waved her off. She looked around and saw other students looking towards the two of them; they eyed the two girls suspiciously. Theo paused to let the other exit the classroom, leaving her and Mona alone. She cleared her throat.

“So about the other night..um..I just wanted to make sure... You're not going to tell anyone are you?” Monaedi blinked at her. Not knowing which part she was referring to. The incident with the boys, or what she did to them, or how she did it. No other response came so Theo continued, “Do you like chufu? I know a nice restaurant—I can take you out—”

To be continued...

[lovelyparanormalbooks]

Book Blitz: Grand Finale: Protecting the Single Mom by Catherine Lanigan

On Tour with Prism Book Tours.

Book Tour Grand Finale for

Protecting the Single Mom

By Catherine Lanigan

We hope you enjoyed the tour! If you missed any of the stops, go back and check them out... Launch - The Dangerous Tour

Hi, and welcome to my Prism Tour for “Protecting the Single Mom”. I’ll bet you’re wondering why I chose this tour title for a Heartwarming story in little old sweet small town Indian Lake, right? Right off the bat, let me tell you that in the real world, there are a lot of dangers, but falling in love, now that’s a real risk. How many people get married for all the wrong reasons? Just check the divorce statistics. In my opinion, love is too often discarded and other “sensible choices” enter the picture. Risking your heart for a lifetime with another person? It’s not practical. It’s nonsensical and yet, we all dream of that one true love. Our soul mate. Our adored one that we will spend all of this lifetime sharing, caring and creating, sigh, a family.

Thoughts of a Blonde - Review

"We are quickly drawn in to the story of a woman on the run who thought she could finally relax and enjoy life again … only to have her maniac of an ex show back up to terrorize her. A cast of great characters, many of whom we’ve gotten to know in past books in the series, makes a solid story."

Katie's Clean Book Collection - The Dangerous Life of a Drug Task Detective

There’s not a city, town or hamlet in the United States that are not affected by illegal drug sales, drug addiction, overdoses and drug related deaths. For all the families struggling with this horror, and mine is no exception, drug addiction of a loved one can be overwhelming, frightening and yes, dangerous.

Rockin' Book Reviews - Review

"I really like this story. I like the suspense in it and thought the characters were well-developed and fun to follow. . . . It was a great story and I would recommend it to other readers."

Book Lover in Florida - Excerpt

Every protective bone in Trent’s body ached for Cate. Of all the calls, all the assignments he’d been given over the years, this one reverberated inside him like church bells on a summer morning. It didn’t take a genius to understand that his reaction was all about the woman. Not that she was defenseless, but that she’d been so strong for years. Like a stalwart angel against all odds, she’d chosen to obliterate her old life and don a new one.

Rainy Day Reviews - Review

"This was a "damsel in distress" type book where the damsel is no damsel but does need help because she is in distress. But she is trying her very best to keep things orderly and clean. This author was a new for me, but after reading this book, I really enjoyed her writing so I'll be reading more of her books! It was suspenseful, heroic, intense, and loving. What a great mix!"

Zerina Blossom's Books - Excerpt

Cate took a sip and raised an eyebrow. “This is delicious. Really good.”

“Thanks.” Trent wondered if he was blushing. He’d couldn’t remember blushing before, but suddenly his cheeks felt hot. And the heat wasn’t from the cocoa.

Hearts & Scribbles - The Dangerous Life of Being on the Run - Cate

For quite some time, I’ve been playing with the idea of Cate Sullivan not really being Cate Sullivan. I introduced her as the realtor in the very first book, LOVE SHADOWS, in this series. She was a friend to Luke Bosworth when his wife was alive and then she helped sell his house after her death. She was empathetic and related well to his children.

Harlie's Books - Review

"Oh my gosh. Stop what you are doing now and buy this book. Don’t put it on the TBR pile. Pour yourself a glass of wine, or ice tea, get comfy and spend a couple of hours in complete bliss with Trent, Cate, and Danny. You will thank me later and you’re welcome. Of course, since this is my first book in the series, I need to go and get Sophie’s and Katia’s books. Yes, this book is that good that I want to read the other books. I’m a series reader. Yes, I admit it. And even though, Ms. Lanigan does a great job of letting us know about the other characters in town, I really want to read their stories, too."

Reading Is My SuperPower - Review

"Protecting the Single Mom is Catherine Lanigan at her best! The characters are dimensional and their stories are both heartbreaking and inspiring. Bits of humor provide a break in the suspense-driven tension, and a sweet-but-sizzling romance adds its own sort of tension to the mix. Fans of the series will enjoy visiting with familiar faces (of which Mrs. Beabots continues to be my favorite and the most intriguing), but this book can easily be read as a stand alone too."

Mel's Shelves - Review

"This is the seventh book in this series and only the third one I've read. It stands well on its own. There are characters from the other books that are mentioned and it was fun to catch up with the ones I knew. I enjoyed the pacing and the blend of romance, action, danger, and character development. This is a great read for fans of clean, contemporary romantic suspense!"

Kati's Bookaholic Rambling Reviews - The Danger of Secrets - Trent

It was then that I saw first-hand this very human and male response to PTSD.

He’d tried everything to get help and he felt he had been helped. But after all these years, he was still haunted by the death of his buddies. The struggle these men and women must go through is monumental. It is not the “stuff” of books that I use just to make a story interesting. This is real life. And it is tragic.

underneath the covers - Excerpt

“About what?” She took a small step toward him. Could anyone be this beautiful? No makeup, her hair rumpled from the cap.

Trent felt as if he’d walked into a dream.

“The rowing. You were beautiful. I mean, er, it was beautiful to watch you…all…out there.”

She chuckled lightly—a tinkling sound carried on the wind.

Wishful Endings - The Danger of Risking Your Heart

The inherent risk of falling in love is why I adore romances, the ones I write and the one’s I gobble up by the dozens every month. I listen to sad, torchy “cowboy” songs about breakups and fear, and that final leap of faith that the lovers blindly make.

The Silver Dagger Scriptorium - The Danger of A Secret Life - Cate

Though Cate was newly pregnant when she hitchhiked into Indian Lake, she was befriended by Captain Redbeard and his wife, Julie, who own the Marina and the attached Marina Mini Mart.

When they asked her name, she didn’t give her real name, Susan Kramer, she said, “Cate Sullivan.” She had come up with it so naturally, and from that moment Cate began making her new life and for her, changing her name had been an important part.

Heidi Reads... - Excerpt

She put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. If she could stay here, kissing Trent, she didn’t have to think about nightmares and a murderous ex-husband. At this moment, she lived another lie—that she was worthy of having a real love with a man like Trent.

Singing Librarian Books - Review

"Lanigan’s characters are brought to life in a way that readers can easily relate to them. Readers will also thoroughly enjoy the delightful and enjoyable family dynamic, including fantastic kid characters. This story also has plenty of suspense and romance too. Readers will not want to miss this next instalment in this engaging series. I would recommend this novel to readers that enjoy contemporary romance stories with great family dynamics, as well as mystery."

Nicole's Book Musings - The Dangerous Side of Life in a Small Town

In PROTECTING THE SINGLE MOM, Trent makes reference to some of the reasons that Indian Lake has such a drug problem. These reasons are not fiction. They are fact.

One of the most notable is that residents of small towns have a tendency to believe that drug-lords would not be interested in their “little town.” After all, there aren’t that many people who would buy the drugs, right? A city offers more of that “kind” of person/addict—they think.

Hardcover Feedback - Review

"Protecting the Single Mom was an enjoyable read, one I think fans of contemporary fiction will enjoy. This story stands on its own, so you don't have to read previous books first, but I do want to read the earlier ones someday."

Becky on Books - Interview

Welcome, Catherine! What 5 things should readers know about you?

1. I’m a voracious reader. I wish I had more hours in the day to read even more, but I DO have to write.

2. I work full time and write full time if that’s possible—meaning 40 hours at each job give or take a few hours here and there to buy groceries.

3. I iron my sheets and pillowcases. It’s mindless work and I get a ton of ideas. You think it’s the spray starch? I use lavender scented.

4. I never, ever work anymore without my essential oils diffuser going right next to my computer.

5. My son and his family and then friends come first in my life. I’ll drop everything to help. Though I may pack my laptop on any and all trips.

Don't forget to enter the giveaway below, if you haven't already...

Protecting the Single Mom

(Shores of Indian Lake #7) Catherine Lanigan

Adult Contemporary Romance

Paperback & ebook, 384 pages

April 1st 2017 by Harlequin Heartwarming

Getting involved shouldn't be this dangerous… Cate Sullivan is no damsel in distress. She's kept herself and her son safe for six long years. Built a good life in Indian Lake. But now that her drug-dealing ex-husband is moving his operation here, that life is about to explode. Her instincts tell her to trust Detective Trent Davis. That he's more than just a handsome cop doing his duty. The former Green Beret has even formed a fast bond with her son. But there's something he's not telling her. Some darkness that keeps him from giving in to the feelings she knows are growing between them. Cate trusts Trent to keep her safe, but the real question is whether he'll trust himself with her heart.

Goodreads│Amazon│Barnes & Noble│Harlequin

Advanced Review for Protecting the Single Mom

This is an exceptional romantic fiction novel that inspires women to achieve their dreams and warms the hearts of the romantics. It is a beautifully well-written story with a clean context. It is suitable for anybody who loves a good romance and yearns to be inspired to make a change in their circumstances. - Susan Sewell for Readers' Favorite

Other Books in the Series

About the Author

Catherine Lanigan is the international bestselling and award-winning author of forty published titles in both fiction and non-fiction, including the novelizations of Romancing the Stone and The Jewel of the Nile, as well as over half a dozen anthologies, including “Chicken Soup for the Soul: Living your Dream”, “Chicken Soup for the Writer’s Soul”, and more. Ms. Lanigan’s novels have been translated into dozens of languages including German, French, Italian, Spanish, Russian, Portuguese, Chinese, and Japanese. Ms. Lanigan’s novels are also available in E-books on Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com, Apple Store, Mobi and Kobo. Several of her titles have been chosen for The Literary Guild and Doubleday Book Clubs. Her Vietnam war-based novel, The Christmas Star, won the Gold Medal Award Top Pick from Romantic Times Magazine and has also won Book of the Year Romance Gold Award from ForeWord Magazine as well as Book of the Year Romance from Reader’s Preference.

Lanigan is the author of a trilogy of non- fiction books regarding angelic intervention in human life: Angel Watch, Divine Nudges and Angel Tales published by HCI and Cedar Fort. Skyhorse published Lanigan’s “how-to” book on writing: Writing the Great American Romance Novel. Lanigan was tasked by the NotMYkid Foundation to write a non-fiction book addressing teen addictions. Ms. Lanigan’s first Young Adult adventure novel, The Adventures of Lillie and Zane: The Golden Flute, was published by Cedar Fort.

Currently, she has published seven novels in the Shores of Indian Lake series for Harlequin Heartwarming: Love Shadows, Heart’s Desire, A Fine Year for Love, Katia’s Promise, Fear of Falling and Sophie’s Path. Protecting the Single Mom pubs April, 2016. She has recently contracted for two more in the series: Wedding for Isabelle and A Bride for Mica.

As a cancer survivor, Ms. Lanigan is a frequent speaker at literary functions and book conventions as well as inspiring audiences with her real stories of angelic intervention from her Angel Tales series of books. She is an outspoken advocate for domestic violence and abuse and was honored by The National Domestic Violence Hotline in Washington, D.C. (THE EVOLVING WOMAN). She has been a guest on numerous radio programs including “Coast to Coast” and on television interview and talk show programs as well as blogs, podcasts and online radio interview programs.

Website│Goodreads│Facebook│Twitter│LinkedIn│Pinterest

Tour Giveaway

- 1 winner will receive a $50 Amazon eGift Card (open internationally)

- 1 winner will receive a tote bag and three Shores of Indian Lake books: Katia's Promise, Fear of Falling and Sophie's Path (US only)

- Ends April 11th a Rafflecopter giveaway