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awildtei · 1 year ago

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the summer day

[this is just a little ficlet I wrote based on my HC that Alvarez is Argentinian. It's also on AO3 here]

Catalina Álvarez has never had a white Christmas. She has never had a winter Christmas, actually.

On the flight to the States when she was fifteen (not her first one, but her first one without a return ticket), she told her dad she was excited about all the Christmas songs and paraphernalia (the pinetree, the Santas with their winter hats and gloves, the Disney songs about it being cold outside) aligning with the reality of the holiday for once.

Her mom didn't bother removing her eye mask as she said, “Cata, we’re going to California.”

Since her mom couldn’t see her, Catalina rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah, but we could go somewhere else for the holidays. New York, maybe, kill two birds with one stone: white Christmas and the ball drop on New Year’s.”

“We are going somewhere else for the holidays,” said her dad without putting his book down “Home.”

Home.

—

Summers in Buenos Aires are scorching hot, the pavement, concrete, and bricks of the city’s streets and buildings absorbing the heat and becoming a furnace, slow-roasting its sweaty inhabitants day and night. It’s a humid, heavy heat, one that sits on your skin like a physical weight and becomes the sole topic of small talk for the months it comes to stay.

The holidays are scattered throughout the summer holidays, three long months of school break sprinkled with Christmas, New Year’s, and Reyes Magos. They always celebrated Reyes at home, just the three of them with their gift-full shoes under the tree. When Catalina’s dad still had his mom and wasn’t yet estranged from his only brother, they spent New Year’s with them and Christmas with her mom’s side of the family.

Hebe Rodríguez’s house was squat and painted a soft blue, halfway down a quiet residential street where stray cats could still be spotted. Inside, it was teeming with plants (which Catalina loved) and pictures of her late husband, Roberto Álvarez (which Catalina found creepy as fuck).

(Two months before she died and five months before most of the remaining Álvarezes moved to the northern hemisphere, Hebe pulled Catalina aside. “Promise me this, Cata,” she asked. “Don’t do like the yankees and take your husband’s surname when you get married, okay? Just because they’re stuck in the Dark Ages doesn’t mean you have to put up with it. You are Catalina Álvarez, remember that.”

“I’m a lesbian, grandma,” she reminded her with a smile.

Her grandma blinked at her. “Oh. Right, I forgot. Alright, carry on, then,” and she patted her only grandchild on the shoulder with a decisive nod.)

Her uncle Luis would spend most of New Year’s Eve stuck to the TV screen. Some years, he would pop his head into the kitchen and grimly inform them, “Blackout tonight,” and they would all sigh, resigned. Better announced than unannounced, they supposed.

No blackout is welcome in 35°C temperatures, though. When the dark wave swept through the neighborhood, drowning out the lights of each house one by one like in the apocalyptic movies Catalina’s dad liked, they would have flashlights and candles ready, but the click of the ceiling fan and air-con turning off felt final and ominous.

Those years (blackout-in-the-middle-of-New-Year’s-Eve-dinner years), they would sit out on the small patio in their white clothes to watch the stars and sip chilled wine. Conversation was hard to keep going when the humid air made breathing laborious, but the silence wasn’t bad. The electricity would usually return before midnight, and they would turn the TV on to a news channel and chant along to the countdown: cinco, cuatro, tres, dos, uno, ¡FELIZ AÑO NUEVO! before eating twelve raisins (which Catalina replaced with chocolate-covered cereal because she found raisins disgusting), one for each month, and running outside to see the fireworks.

Christmases, however, were always Catalina’s favorite. Her mom’s side of the family was a very different story from her dad’s: loud where they were quiet, numerous where they were sparse, posh where they were normal (her dad’s words, the ‘chetos’ said with undisguised derision, ignoring his mom’s resulting elbow to the ribs).

Catalina and her parents would make the forty-minute drive to Santa Bárbara, the definition of a swank gated community. Once past the guard booths, they would make the slow fifteen-minute drive down winding streets with their “Children Playing” signs to the big house at the end of the lane where Aunt Soledad and Uncle Tomás lived with their 2.5 kids and golden retriever. It was always lavishly decorated, with a life-size nativity scene on the front lawn and unseasonable snowflake cutouts and colorful strings of lights on the windowsills.

The afternoon before Christmas Eve was for riding bikes and swimming in the wide backyard pool and roller skating up and down the long wooden bridge over the expansive pond that was Santa Bárbara’s hallmark. Cousins Marcos, Agustín, Lara and Constanza were older than Catalina; Milagros, Sebastián and Santiago were younger. Then there were the babies, Benjamín and Pilar, but they stayed home with their respective parents, doing whatever babies did while kids played, so Catalina barely registered them for a few years.

At noon, they would run back to the house, Catalina and her cousins, and sit down for lunch under big striped patio umbrellas with minimal eye-rolling at their mothers’ fussing that they would get heatstroke and would they please play inside where it was cool? Uncle Tomás would serve the asado, delicious, juicy meat that was as much cultural ritual as it was meal, an excuse for the men to hover around the grill as though the whole thing would go up in flames without their combined expertise.

After lunch (an hours-long affair that included lengthy, inescapable post-lunch conversation), some of the adults would retreat to guest rooms to nap, others would lounge around on plastic chairs to sip mate and keep talking, and the kids would run again. Christmas Eve Eve always felt endless to Catalina, lovely and sweltering and carefree. Playing in the street was out of the question back in the city, had stopped being safe when her parents were children, but here it was fine, and she felt that freedom coursing through her veins with every running step she took down quiet streets lined with Aguaribay, American Ash, and Plane trees.

When the sun began to set, they would all, parents and children, slowly amble down to the pond to watch the orange-pink-red spectacle play on the water’s surface. Besides the two weeks she and her parents spent on the coast in Mar del Plata each February, it was the only time Catalina saw the horizon, the perfect straight line usually hidden by towering buildings.

Back at the house, the adults would start setting everything up for Christmas dinner, and the kids would banish the heat that still hung heavy in the air by playing mermaids and Marco Polo in the pool. When they were called inside, they would climb the pool ladder, grass sticking to their feet, trailing water all the way back into the house, and get changed into white dresses and shorts, airy and fresh, wet patches immediately appearing from their dripping hair.

Barefoot, smelling of chlorine, and worn from a day spent playing in the sun, they would sit at the table set with the good cutlery and linen napkins, jittery with the looming promise of Papá Noel’s visit (Catalina would never get used to the way U.S. Americans open presents on Christmas day instead of Christmas Eve, couldn’t fathom asking a child to go to sleep with that anticipation hanging over them). Dinner would be light due to the heat, salads and cold cuts, chilled wine and champagne for the adults, lemonade and Coke for the children, dessert for all.

When the excitement got to be too much for the youngest members of the family, one of the adults would say, “Hey, why don’t we go outside to wait for Papá Noel?” and guide a band of eager children to the backyard to search the stars for signs of an approaching reindeer-pulled sleigh. They were brighter here than in the city, and Catalina thought any one of them could be him.

Somehow, Santa always arrived when they were outside looking for him, and they would run back in to find a towering pile of presents waiting for them underneath the huge plastic Christmas tree. The rest of the evening usually unraveled in a loud mess of bright, noisy toys and sugar-high kids wanting to play with them even as the day caught up with them and made their jaws crack with their lion yawns.

The ones left standing by midnight were welcome to a glass of champagne to toast with the adults. Catalina always fought tooth and nail against her tiredness because she refused to miss out. After a sip or two of the bitter, bubbly liquid, she would kiss her parents goodnight and drag herself into the guest room she shared with her female cousins. The sheets smelled clean, the fan droned its merciful reprieve from the heat, and her heart felt full as she fell asleep.

On Christmas day, the boys would go to the fútbol field by the restaurant and wouldn’t let the girls join them, so Lara, Constanza, Catalina and Milagros would claim the backyard and invite the neighbors’ girls to play Exy with them. For years, that’s what Exy meant to Catalina: running with a pack of fierce girls under a furious summer sun, sweaty and happy and in charge. They would take pool breaks now and then, a quick dip and a pit stop for sunscreen reinforcement before resuming their game.

Lunch would consist of assorted leftovers and a dozen empanadas ordered from the restaurant two streets down. The knowledge that the day was about to end made it a less ebullient affair than the previous day, even the wildest of her cousins subdued by their impending departure.

After lunch, Aunt Soledad and Uncle Tomás would dress their kids up and walk down to the chapel five minutes away for Christmas Mass. Everyone else was allowed to join them, but only Aunt Carolina would sometimes go.

When the day slowly trickled down into night, the guest families would leave one by one, causing tantrums and loud protests as playmates were forced to say their goodbyes.

Catalina would get in the boiling car with her hair still dripping wet and an inevitable sunburn where she neglected to put on sunscreen. She would watch the trees pass them by on their slow crawl to the gates. Somewhere between the house and the highway, she would fall asleep. On the ride home, she would dream of grass and swimming pools and laughter and Exy and family.

—

The holidays are inevitably different now that she’s an adult. She goes from USC straight to LAX and meets her parents there. She sleeps most of the flight.

Buenos Aires is always the same, except for the ever-changing billboards and many old houses in her neighborhood being demolished to make room for mammoth apartment complexes. The summers are still scorching hot, only getting hotter with global warming.

Grandma Hebe is gone. Uncle Luis kept her house, but he and Catalina’s dad haven’t spoken in years, so she doesn’t know what became of that blue jungle, whether her grandad’s pictures still sprout among the plants like weeds.

Catalina and her parents spend both Christmas and New Year’s in Santa Bárbara with her aunt and uncle now. She and her cousins don’t run around all day anymore, but they do still sometimes play Exy in the backyard, with racquets they’ve outgrown and complaints from her opponents that being a college Exy player gives her an unfair advantage, which she gleefully ignores.

There are still long evenings spent floating on her back in the swimming pool until her fingers prune and her skin smells of chlorine. There are still asados, even if Uncle Román isn’t part of the grill committee anymore since Aunt Carolina divorced him.

There is no searching for Santa among the stars, but presents are still exchanged, toasts still made. There are new guests, Agustín’s girlfriend, Marcos’s best friend, Milagros’s girlfriend. Their junior year of college, Catalina brings along Laila.

There are long lunches that stretch into longer conversations. There is sunscreen and chilled champagne and the sun setting over the pond.

And on the plane ride back to California, where she will exchange gifts with Jeremy and Jean and the other Trojans, where she will train and study and keep growing up, Catalina dreams of grass and swimming pools and laughter and Exy and family.

#aftg #all for the game #alvarez #catalina alvarez #usc trojans

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phrynewrites · 2 years ago

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snow day hc for teacher au jasco🥺

Please anon, this is such a sweet concept!!

❄️ Jasmine is the first one to see the snow day alert at 5am and immediately spams Bosco's phone about it. Bosco finally responds back around 6am, annoyed that Jasmine ruined their sleep, but nonetheless pleased.

❄️ Jasmine is in dire need of the snow day when it finally rolls around, as the January and February stretch, as any teacher knows, is long as hell and exhausting as hell. Since Bosco knows how much Jasmine needs this too, they come over with a bag full of self-care items: face masks, trash magazines, that pre-made cookie dough with the shapes, etc.

❄️ They spend the day inside, watching some of Bosco's favorite old movies, doing face masks, and gossiping/ranting. Neither Jasmine nor Bosco wants to admit that the other is a good conversation partner.

❄️ Bosco ends up staying over, reasoning that *the roads are too bad to drive home* (even though they're no worse than that morning when Bosco decided to come over in the first place).

❄️ As the night rolls on, the two end up sharing a blanket on the couch, reminiscing about the time they were stuck inside the school during that freak blizzard, pointedly not talking about the kiss. But with their silhouettes cast against the walls of Jasmine's apartment by the lit candles on her coffee table, with Jasmine's shoulder digging into Bosco's chest...well, the moment figures out how to recreate itself.

#this is just the first snow day together #which is why it's entirely soft but a little awkward tbh #because neither of them know how to express their feelings even after the kiss the last time #but when they're more established in the relationship it's mostly helping shovel the other's car out #and bosco grabbing a fist full of snow and throwing it at jasmine when she gets whiny #and of course jasmine attacking them back when they least expect it #stuffing a handful of snow down their jacket #leading to bosco pulling her down into the snow and the two wrestling a bit before letting up with a frigid kiss on the nose #and the promise of hot chocolate and bad reality tv #for anon #asks answered #this inspires me to send out some of the headcanon games again tbh #jasco teachers au

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armysantiny · 3 years ago

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-[ nct dream: late-night headcanons

P: ot7 dream x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, headcanons | Inc: laughter, playing the guitar, cuddles, taking pictures, art, playing games with them, making ramen, coffee shop runs, Daegal, late-night ice cream bc I said so, I'm in love with boys can you tell??, star-gazing, learning Chinese with Renjun | Wc: 681 | W: food/drink | R: G

Minnie's Notes: Here you go my lovely @renjuns-grillfreind <3

Mark Lee | 이민형

Late nights with Mark are full of laughter and deep conversations about everything and nothing all at once. Eyes shut as you listen to him cover your favourite songs and embarrassed smiles while he teaches you how to play the guitar. Listening to the curated playlist he made for you while you lay together and watch the ceiling. Sneaking pictures of him without makeup, refusing to delete it because he looks pretty like that and pointing out every little feature you like about it. Hint; it’s everything.

Huang Renjun | 런줜

Twilight hours spent getting lost in various art projects together, watching over Jun’s shoulder as he finishes another one of his pieces. Deep conversations about the future and your goals; he promises to support you as much as humanly possible. Staying up over the phone for little Chinese language lessons while you both fight the urge to sleep. Tracing constellations in the night sky in the park with nothing else but coffee, blankets and all the time in the world. Late-night photoshoots against alleyways, laughing at how bad the picture came out while taking the best ones as shared wallpapers.

Lee Jeno | 이제노

Late nights spent looking at new desk setups and decorations for your shared gaming spaces. Laughing at Hyuck’s incessant yelling down the mics when you ‘accidentally’ let yourself get killed in-game to spend more time with Jeno away from the screen. Content smiles when he wraps his arms around you from behind while you’re making hot chocolates, his head buried in the crook of your neck. Constant discussions over adopting a puppy and all the aesthetic things the pair of you could do as pup-parents.

Lee Donghyuck | 이동혁

Staying up watching as he plays round after round with the others, chuckling as he shouts obscenities over his headphones. Filming Hyuck to use as ‘blackmail’ material in the group chat later on. Popping open a can for the pair of you when he finally finishes playing, the clock hits two am easily. Throwing a pillow in his face when he suggests something absolutely insane and laughing at his over-the-top offended face. Pretending to film that reality show he keeps talking about whenever he starts going off on one of his tangents. Sharing snacks while you bicker over what to watch and watching the same show for the nth time.

Na Jaemin | 나재민

Late night coffee runs where you gawk at the sheer amount of extra espresso shots he adds to his drink order. Running after him as he pulls you to the next 24/7 café he finds. Listening to him ramble about his day while you watch with an endeared smile because how does he still have all this energy? Waking up at unholy times because Jaemin’s calling you over to bake muffins with him. Enjoying your freshly made midnight snacks with a drama marathon wrapped under blankets.

Zhong Chenle | 천러

Falling asleep against his shoulder three dramas into your tv marathon, his hands gently laced through your hair. Playing with Daegal and struggling not to wake up the entire neighbourhood with your shared laughter, the small dog just too cute. Wandering the convenience store looking for the best midnight snack before settling on buying an entire bag full because no one could come up with a clear answer. Nibbling on the bag of snacks on the way home while ranting about each other’s day and making fun of his hyungs – with good intentions.

Park Jisung | 박지성

Waking up to Jisung pleading you to join him on one of his late-night craving-induced trips to the store to get ice creams. Laughing about your brain freezes while trying to down the frozen treats. Watching (read; supervising) him make ramen and applauding when he manages to not burn the kitchen down; his hyungs aren’t exactly keen on waking up to the smell of a burnt kitchen and a panicking Park Jisung. Eating said ramen by the balcony and watching the rain hit the ground outside. Counting as many graveyard shift workers making their way across the street and wondering what their day looks like. Laying in each other’s lap and relaxing while you play with each other’s hair.

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators, @prism-nw, @k-library, @knet-bakery, @kpclub,@dreamwritersnet, @nct-writers, @neoturtles, @nctcreations, @nct-frathouse, @aandmlibrary

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @babyboobean, @taem-min, @iiindigocheesecake, @xavi-in-kpopland | Taglist form

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memetaped · 3 years ago

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star trek: deep space 9 taken from the tv show.

come on, let’s get you home.

looks like you need a new bandage.

it’s good to see you got your appetite back.

you’re lucky you only got singed.

i need to know that you’re here, safe. that way, a part of me will always be safe, too.

get your hands off of me, before i do something i’ll regret.

we’ll see each other again soon. that’s a promise.

whatever it is you’ve been through has taken its toll.

that boy’s life is in our hands, and i won’t let anybody give up on him.

there are too many ways to get into serious trouble here.

get some hot chocolate and tell me about it.

you can channel your feelings of aggression in other ways.

this is important. you and i. things change, but not this.

you’re a great boy, you know that?

you have to leave me here and go on by yourself.

but the thing about dreams is, if you talk about them, they kind of go away faster.

now that kid is here under my protection, and i swear, if you do anything to hurt them, i will make you regret it. is that clear?

everyone has to have someone to confide in, someone to hear their stories.

my heart is too big.

the boy’s in a lot of trouble.

everything’s gonna be all right, but you have to try and stay awake for me.

if you were hurt, i’d leave you behind.

hold on, i’m not finished with you.

my dear, you should not be here.

it’s just a nosebleed.

hey, who said anything about being scared?

everyone went out of their way to look after me.

it takes a lot of courage to admit you’re wrong.

you run now, i won’t be able to protect you.

give me that before you hurt yourself.

i don’t need counseling, or relaxation, or time to adjust. i just want to be left alone.

get out.

and i am gonna pray, because i don’t know what else to do.

care for a root beer?

i’ve always loved you. even when i hated you.

before you volunteer too quickly, understand what you’re getting into.

do not hug me.

mom?

i’m not afraid, papa.

you’ve been so kind to me.

i’ve said my piece. sorry for butting in.

you know, why don’t we just call it a day? you obviously have other things on your mind.

i feel sick when i eat. i have pains in my head, in my chest.

you keep moving around, you won’t need any nurse.

i’ve known nothing but violence since i was a child.

what the hell has gotten into your head?

so, now you’re hiding things from me?

i think i could handle some soup.

save your strength

a sharp knife is nothing without a sharp eye.

so, my young friend, what do you think we’re looking at?

confession is good for the soul.

i’m gonna stay here, take care of the wounded. that includes you.

that’s a very personal question.

is this some kind of joke?

look at me. i need to know you’re going to be all right.

hold on, i’m not finished with you.

continually distracted, depressed, and agitated.

you always tighten your brow just a tiny bit whenever you’re about to ask a question.

it’s so small even i can’t stand up in there. look, i’m developing a slouch.

the one good thing about going away is coming home.

you don’t want me hanging around here? fine. i’ll do my thinking someplace else.

i don’t know who’s going to hear this. i don’t even know if i’ll be alive by the time this log is recovered.

we have rights, including the right to be as stubborn or thickheaded as we want.

i know it’s too difficult to speak right now. just rest.

you might say it came to me in a vision.

what are you doing up? you’re supposed to be in bed.

i’ll miss you.

and you’ve got a lot of nerve complaining about being cold when you’re the one wearing the jacket.

the last thing i want is to become a burden to you.

rudeness will get you nowhere.

okay? i’ve forgotten “okay.”

keep your eyes and ears open, follow orders, and try not to get in the way.

it’s not a trick, it’s a choice.

that’s how i think of you. and maybe that’s why sometimes, it’s hard for me to relax around you.

it’s a treatment, not a cure. it’ll prevent hallucinations, take the edge off the depression, but that’s all it’ll do.

you know, that was a very ugly thing you just said.

right now, my head is swimming in bloodwine and i’m going to bed, and so should you.

i’m a little tired. didn’t get much sleep last night.

i appreciate your concern, but i’ll grieve in my own way, in my own time.

we’ve come to care about what happens to these people.

i know that you’ve been working with the maquis, and right now, i don’t care.

are you some kind of anarchist?

when you take someone’s life, you lose a part of your own as well.

home! i want to go home!

besides, i could never live with myself if something happened to you.

now we either freeze to death or starve to death. take your pick.

isn’t there someone you can talk to? someone you trust?

that’s right. it’s okay. everything’s going to be fine.

take my word for it, you’ll survive.

i don’t know about you, but it’s past my bedtime.

do you want to come color with me?

look, i’m not asking you to like me or to be my friend. i’m asking you to join me, to fight at my side.

sealing the entranceway was a risky thing to do. you nearly brought the whole ceiling down on yourself.

i can’t feel my legs.

“a needle in a haystack” wouldn’t do this job justice.

you ought to get some rest.

don’t deny the violence inside of you. only when you accept it can you move beyond it.

make sure to put your plate in the replicator, sweetie.

you know, it’s attitudes like that that keep you people from getting invited to all the really good parties.

i feel like someone just walked over my grave.

we need to get you to the infirmary.

enough. you’re pushing yourself too hard.

if that’s how you remember it, you must’ve hit your head harder than i thought you did.

you should take a break. you’ve been working nonstop for days.

well, you tried being alone and it hasn’t done any good. so maybe it’s time to stop brooding and start talking.

are you part of my family?

my leg is broken.

i’ve been looking all over for you.

you’re suffering from a severe form of amnesia.

speak up for yourself while you’re here, okay?

things that would send cold chills down your spine and wake you in the middle of the night.

i’m the one who should be struggling to stay conscious. i’m the one who’s in excruciating pain.

not just a bad dream – bad memories.

are you two fighting again?

i don’t want your sympathy and i don’t need your advice!

you stay a while longer if you want to, but you have to promise me, when the time comes and i tell you to go, you’ll do it.

look, i know it’s too late for an apology. but for what it’s worth, i’m sorry.

why don’t you go to your quarters and lie down for a while?

everyone keeps looking at me. they’re afraid of me.

i’d never felt more alone in all my life.

i’m half-frozen. i haven’t eaten for days. my muscles won’t work anymore!

what you experienced was an artificial reality, an interactive program that created memories of things that never actually happened.

what could be more important than dom-jot?

i’m not sleeping. i’m checking my eyelids for holes.

i’ve found that when it comes to doing what’s best for you, you humanoids have the distressing habit of doing the exact opposite.

you’re going to give yourself indigestion.

speaking of pain, this is probably going to hurt.

i never thought i would say this to you, but you are listening to your heart, not your head.

would you please go on vacation and get out of our hair?

you should take things easy for a while.

i wish there was something i could do. some way i could promise you that everything is going to be okay.

i’ve done some things i’m not proud of.

i want to stay with you.

my weakness is i’m too generous, too forgiving.

oh, this is one stubborn infection. how long have you had it?

just to “speak up for myself”, i’m feeling a little betrayed here.

the best way to survive a knife fight is to never get in one.

you can annoy me, bait me, question my very existence. but in the end, we both know i’ve won.

i haven’t seen one of these since i was a kid.

it’s a good weapon – solid, simple. you can drag it through the mud and it’ll still fire.

i’m sorry, i hope i haven’t offended anyone.

little children do that.

you know, eventually, you’re going to have to stop talking and deal with this.

if you come with me, you can be a soldier again.

i still wish you’d given me a little more warning.

you can’t expect me to cure it overnight.

i used to dream about you coming to save me. that’s what kept me alive.

you’ve never had those feelings. you don’t know what it means to really care about another person.

let me put it another way. i don’t want to play cards, and even if i did, i wouldn’t want to play with you.

what’s next? do you want to apologize to me? express your sympathy?

i think you went to your quarters last night and you tossed and turned in bed, because you knew some of the things you said to me concerned me.

you’ve got all the emotions of a stone. no offense.

because i have the bad habit of telling the truth even when people don’t want to hear it.

i’m always suspicious of people who are eager to help a police officer.

for as long as i can remember, i have always been an outsider.

you were wounded. try not to move around.

terrorists don’t get to be heroes.

i’ve never needed a friend more than i do right now.

i cried for you. i missed you so much.

we need to stop the bleeding. we better get you up to the ship.

i’m not afraid of you.

for the moment, why don’t you relax? try not to be so tense, take it easy.

we don’t belong in this time. we’re from the future.

you federation types are all alike. you talk about tolerance and understanding, but you only practice it towards people who remind you of yourselves.

now, i think we should concentrate on getting you comfortable with this weapon.

out there, there are no saints, just people – angry, scared, determined people who are going to do whatever it takes to survive, whether it meets with the federation’s approval or not.

yeah, i just banged my head on something.

it’s life. you can miss it if you don’t open your eyes.

i should have known you’d develop feelings for these people you’ve been living with for the past few years.

there’s nothing you can do. um, i just need some time.

i’ll teach you. it’s a very simple game.

you don’t deserve it. nobody does.

and you want to know why you don’t scare me? because i’m already more scared than i’ve ever been in my life.

oh, please. i’m suffering enough without having to listen to your smug federation sympathy.

i know what it’s like to worry about a child.

last night, it sounded like a takaran wildebeest was tromping around up there.

do you remember my face? even a little?

between you and me, those people have every right to defend themselves.

there’s a time for levity, my young friend, and a time for genuine concern.

why? why do you care so much?

i have to save you from yourself.

just because a group of people belong to the federation, that does not mean that they are saints.

life is yours for the taking. all you have to do is reach out and grab it.

no one on this station is better than anyone else. we’re all equal.

that’s why i came to you, because i knew you’d protect me. you will protect me, won’t you?

just because we don’t understand a life-form, doesn’t mean we can destroy it.

oh, we’re all very good at conjuring up enough fear to justify whatever we want to do.

it’s an expression of affection that you find difficult to accept.

look, i just don’t want anything to happen to you.

as your friend, i have to tell you i’m worried about you.

have i ever told you how much i hate that smug, superior attitude of yours?

and as for bedside manner, i’ve known nicer voles.

you’re the terrorist. you tell me.

i repaid kindness with blood. i was no better than an animal.

you don’t know what it means to care about someone, do you?

i’ll try to keep my problems more quiet next time.

are you sure you’re all right?

oh, i slept like an alvanian cave sloth.

just watch your back. you’re in danger.

the thing i don’t understand is why you pretended to be my friend.

i have to say goodbye to you.

#tv tag.#rp meme #rp sentence meme #askbox meme

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kyoongboxi · 3 years ago

Text

Beyond My Reach —

[Baekhyun AU]

——

<< Interlude

Exam weeks is finally over on Friday. You are planning to clear your minds by hanging out somewhere with your friends but two days ago your mother texted you that you should comeback early to your parents house because your brother's wife expecting their first child soon and your mother wants all of the family members to be there. You sighed because you wouldn't dare to say no to her. But at least you still have the night time left before finally leaving the dorm for around two months starting from tomorrow.

You brushed your hair away from your face when a car passed in front of you caused by a gushed of wind that ruffling your hair a little. You were now heading against some restaurants with a bag full of soft drinks gripped between your fingers. Drinking or more like get drunk was never really you. Your alcohol tolerance was really that low so you wouldn't take any risk of it and buy a soft drinks instead. It was around seven p.m when you felt your phone buzzed in your pocket. You lazily unlocked your phone because you already know who is it.

Where's my food? I'm so hungry i think i'm gonna die from a hunger if you didn't come in any second.. T^T ..hungry.. My poor belly...

Baekhyun. Your boy, your everyth— friends. He texted you exactly three hours ago that he wanted to see you. He said he missed you because exam weeks drives you insane and you didn't have time to meet him. Maybe things works easier for the guy because he is a genius. Yeah. A genius. Even with those round glasses hanging perfectly against his nose, he's not that guy whose into reading, studying, making some journals, no. He was just born clever. He is also the guy who hanging around a lot. He got a lot of friends and women attracted to him. Of course. He was handsome.

And you remember, the first time he went drinking, and it was also the first time you found out that his alcohol tolerance is low. He got wasted. One of his friends called you that night. He said Baekhyun might need someone to watch him for the rest of the night because he literally passed out outside his door. You came right away and found the guy sprawled out against the couch. His round glasses was off his face, eyes half closed, mouth half parted. He just adorable.

"You know what? I just realized you look so pretty from this angle"

What?

"No, Baek— You're drunk. C'mon lets get you to bed" You positioned yourself in front of him and trying to take off his jacket without looking at his face. You didn't pay attention to his words that much because he did called you pretty multiple times and you felt nothing about it. That's it until he suddenly pulled your wrist harshly so you were falling on top of him.

Eyes went wide, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face because he was too close. He looked at you with those drunken gaze, eyes droopy probably from the alcohol. "Wish we weren't friends so I could kiss you everytime I like" He chuckled softly before he loosened his grip around your wrist. You quickly pulled your hand away and straightened your position. And then you feel it. Something that you have never felt before. Was it a cringe feeling? Warmth? Love? Scared? You were unsure and you never think about that again until now.

You were pulled back harshly into the reality because the cashier's voice startled you in your seat. She says she has called your name multiple times and thought you were gone already. You let out an awkward laugh and apologized before finally took a leave. It was ridiculous that you were thinking about an event you promised you'd never think again. You realized that you can't fall in love with him because it would be so awkward.

After ten minutes walk from the restaurant, you finally stood outside his dorm with two bags gripped between your fingers. There was something inside your heart that stopped you from rushed in and sharing some bear hug. But you didn't know what is that neither. It does bother you because you feel like you just missed this boy, you really do. You just wanna laugh around with him again, listening to his unnecessary joke just like what you always did on high school. But it seems like a barrier between you and him started to grow in the past year. Things does change and you're trying so hard to accept it.

You inhaled some air to fill in before typed the pass code lock and stepped inside. He never changed his pass code lock from the day he moved in. He also decided to tell you what is the pass code because you're his closest friends. Once you're inside, it was rather quiet and his handsomeness was nowhere to be found. You're assuming that he was probably in his room playing his favorite games so you headed towards the kitchen right away.

You were about to take out the food from the bag when your phone suddenly rang loudly inside your pocket. Wasting no time, you put your phone against your ear without seeing who is calling while your other hand continue to prepare for the food.

"Hello this is me speaking.."

"Hey sweetheart!" A melodious voice greeted you from another side. You could tell the voice was belong to your mother because she always have that little excitement somewhere in the way she talked. "What's wrong mom?"

"Could you come home before noon tomorrow? I'm sorry I feel like— I miss you so much. To be honest I'm kinda worried about you... I don't know why though. What are you up to?" Hearing those words from your mother, you pulled your hand away from the food.

"Got it. I'm—I'm about to eat mom. I'm okay. Don't worry about—" You immediately stopped talking when you feel a presence and something pressed against your butt. Baekhyun.

He put his mug against your butt guiding you to moved away. Just another Baekhyun thing. "Move I wanna get drink"

You quickly moved away and turned around to see the boy bringing his mug into his lips. He was wearing his usual black shirt paired with a sweatpants. Meanwhile his hair is still a little wet from the shower. "Sweetheart? You alright?"

Right. Even your brain couldn't deny the fact that you missed this boy because it made you forget that you're currently in a call with your mother. "Ah sorry— I'm about to eat. Call you later?"

You were that close to pressed the red button and ended the call until Baekhyun lowered his head against your phone. "Yeah she was about to eat me hurry baby I'm getting impatient"

But thankfully you were quick to react. You pressed the red button and finally ended the call. You shove him hard right against the shoulder caused him to stumbled a bit with a sweet laugh coming from his lips. "C'mon lets eat" He then left the kitchen with the food in his hands without saying another words.

You shook your head and simply following him into the small living room. Baekhyun rarely eat on the kitchen bar because he said he couldn't leaned back when he sit on the high chair. "How's your exam? Good?" He questioned with a mouth full of noodles.

You began to eat softly without looking at him. He also turned the tv on before he starts eating. A random news channel was played in the background and you wasn't really pay attention to it because the cute and handsome guy beside you who was now eating, enjoying his food was the reason. You just can't think straight. Maybe avoiding him for the next month seems like a good plan. "Good" You answered softly.

"You know" He leaned forward while his fingers snatched the soft drink on the table in front of you. He was too close for a second. You could smell his fresh woody scent and it only takes you back into your high school time where he sing his heart out for you on the backyard and pulled you into an embrace for the first time because you were crying.

"There was a girl.. A new one probably.. She confessed to me. Like she really walking up to me with a chocolate bar and some cute letter in her hand" He took a gulp from his can.

He was known as a talented, cute, handsome and that hot guy in round glasses after he participated in a music festival last year. It also wasn't the first time he had someone confessed to him. You knew that already. "Was she cute?" You found yourself questioned him again.

"Kinda.. But you know what" He put his can down on the table and looking into your direction searching for you in the eyes. "She ran away after that.. And—" You finally drew your attention to him and noticed he was holding back his laugh. His expression was too obvious for you. "And— oh God I'm kinda feel bad for this"

You also put down your spoon and raising one of your eyebrow. You were ready to hear his another unnecessary joke because he never fails you to makes you laugh. "She slipped"

This time, it wasn't a laugh that escaped your lungs. Your eyes widened immediately as the words finally rolled out his tongue. He wasn't joking this time. "No.. For real? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"God— she slipped two times. I—I was trying to help her—" And then thats it. A deep hearty laughter that you haven't heard for a long time and you've missed echoing against your ears. He was never really changed.

"I was trying to help her for real but she shoved me away and— she slipped again" He trying to explain everything with his hands between his laughter. The next second he got up from his seat and trying to demonstrate how the girl slipped.

"She was like— slipped or tripped over her own feet before falling down against the floor. Her expression was like—" He then widened his eyes and leaving his mouth wide open before finally bursting out into another laugh. Your giggles also turned into a loud laugh because of his silly expression.

Baekhyun went back to his seat beside you still half laughing. Your fingers immediately went to his arm, clutching into him tightly while your forehead rested against his shoulder for a support because you were the person who had to clinging into something when you laugh and he knew it since high school time. The laughter last long for about two minutes because your boy keep making a sound that escaped his lips when he was trying to stop his laughter.

And when Baekhyun's arm draped around your waist, your laugh suddenly died down and you shifted away from him slowly hoping he wouldn't notice. No. You didn't like the way he touched you because his touch is burning and lingering a little longer against your skin. No.

Both of you continued to eat in silence. Only the voice of the news anchor against the tv break the silence in a steady tone. Baekhyun hold his spoon between his fingers on the right hand meanwhile his thumb on the other hand busy scrolling through his phone. You were done with your food and took a glance against him. His eyes was focused on the screen with his mouth still chewing.

This isn't the first time you've spent your dinner time with Baekhyun. It would always end up with him rested his head on your lap with your fingers playing with his hair or simply brushed it away from his eyes and listening to him babbling for an hour before drifted off into a slumber. A sight of him sleeping never fails to warm your heart.

You grab the remote tv and tore your gaze away from him into the screen. Switching the channel up and down hoping you would find some movies worth to watch. But instead of finding a movie to watch, you found him stood up abruptly with his eyes still locked to his phone.

"What happened? You alright?"

"Malia.. She accidentally eating something with a peanut in it. I—I should go check on her she's in a hospital right now"

Malia. Malia. Malia. That was the name you heard for the first time exactly one year ago right after the music festival was held. She was pretty. Prettier than you, you admitted that. She was also a clever one. Then you found out that you and her are in the same major. And you didn't really remember how this Malia girl become a lot closer to your friend. They started to hanging out multiple times after that. You? Of course you didn't mind at all.

Also you noticed that Malia trying so hard to be your friend and started to ask anything about him. What he likes, how is his type, what did he do in his spare time. You? You answered all of her questions because you didn't see that coming.

"Oh.. Okay then" He was rushing into his room to grab some hoodie and a car key when you stood up as well. This is the first time you saw him so worried again over someone after a long time. He took multiple steps quickly towards the door without even looking at you and saying another words.

You didn't. You didn't see that coming until you saw it with your on eyes on Tuesday afternoon. You were beyond excited because you finally found the book that he recommended to you last month. You couldn't hold your smile that keep creeping into your lips as your feet dragged you towards his dorm. You typed the pass code lock as fast as you can and rushed inside.

You were expecting that he would probably sleeping or gaming in his room but you were wrong. Him, Baekhyun, was kissing a girl on the lips lovingly against the couch. Malia. She was sitting right on his lap with her fingers disappeared somewhere against his hair. Baekhyun, he even had both of his eyes closed enjoying the sparks between two of them. And it was also the time you feel a weird feeling that you couldn't describe. A heartbreak? What for?

Deep inside, you know this is so wrong. You were just his friend and you didn't have the rights to controlling him thats why avoiding him for a while sounds like the best solution. He was in his happiest state with her, Malia. What kind of friend you are if you dare to take his smile and happiness away?

You weren't expecting that when Baekhyun rushed back in towards the living room where you still haven't moved a bit from your position. His eyes filled with concern when it drifted against yours. "I—I'll be back in an hour—"

"I'll just leave as well, Baekhyun. I'm going home tomorrow. I'll clean this up and leave right after" You turned your head against him. Answering quietly because you were unsure why it suddenly become so hard to speak.

He simply nodded and you watched his back disappearing from your sight so quickly. Now you could feel your eyes burning hot. Your fingers when to your chest because it feels like it so hard to breathe. You closed your eyes trying to control your breathing because oh fuck you loved this boy but it was too late. Its all too late for now. You have lied to your feelings for a long time. And that was also the time you realized, he is already beyond— your reach.

#baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun angst

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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BTS Reaction || Aftercare [Request]

A/N: Mentions of sex so please do not read if you’re underage

Seokjin:

You were seeing stars after the orgasm that Jin had just given you your whole body was shaking trying to come down from the high you were experiencing Jin pulled you back to reality by sitting you up in the bed,

"Come on." He whispered helping you off the bed, he was always the best at aftercare for you he never wanted you to experience anything bad while you were together. Your legs trembled as he walked you through to the en-suite bathroom, stepping you into the bath which was the perfect temperature for your body, he got in behind you and wrapped his arms around your body taking a washcloth and began washing your body. You had your head resting back against his chest as he washed you off,

"You okay?" He asked looking at you as you closed your eyes and hummed in response to him, you were more than okay you'd just had one of the best orgasms of your life and now you were cuddling up to the love of your life.

"I'm fine Jinnie." You promised him as he continued to wash your body his hands stopping when he realised how you were almost falling asleep against him.

"Come on you, don't go falling asleep in the bath." He let out a deep chuckle and you woke up, yawning and looking up at him.

"Let me wash you now." You turned around in the giant bathtub and took the washcloth from him, rinsing it and applying another set of shower gel to it so you could wash his body off and he chuckled watching as you attempted to wash him despite you almost falling asleep less than five seconds ago. He found it adorable that you would try and comfort him when it was you that needed the aftercare after the rough night you'd spent together.

Yoongi:

As soon as it was over it was like a switch was flicked inside of Yoongi, he was no longer the cold stand-offish boyfriend he was in the bedroom and he was cradling you in his arms.

"You did so well baby," He praised kissing the back of your neck as he rocked you back and forth in his arms to comfort you, you whimpered as your ass came into contact with the bed and he hissed.

"I know, I'm sorry." He went into the drawer beside the bed and got the bottle of lotion that was kept in there, for this reason, he applied a generous amount to his hand before he rubbed it into your cheeks.

"I know it stings baby, I'm sorry." He said as you hissed when he touched you, he'd gone a litter rougher this time since you'd been teasing him all day by flirting with his friends.

"I'll make a drink after this I promise." You shook your head once he finished rubbing the lotion into your skin, it was already starting to feel better since it was so cold and soothing.

"Just hold me," You whispered crawling up to the top of the bed waiting for him, he sat down next to you and you laid your head on his legs, he began playing with your hair and rubbing the small of your back as he whispered sweet things to you to help you calm down. He knew exactly how to look after your body after he'd practically ripped it apart,

"I love you." He assured you kissing the top of your head as your eyes fluttered shut,

"Love you too Yoongi," You whispered back staying curled up in his arms as he held you through the night.

Hoseok:

He pulled out of you as soon as the safeword left your mouth and he pulled you into a hug, promising not to let go until you told him to but you weren't going to. He'd been degrading you and you just needed him to hold you while you came down from the highs you'd been experiencing.

"Too much." You whimpered and he nodded kissing your cheek and grabbing the blankets from the bed. He wrapped them around your naked body and pulled you against him, rubbing your arms and promising you that you were none of the things that he had been calling you through the rough night together.

"You did great baby, so great." He promised as he kissed your exposed shoulder, you leant back against his arms and he snuggled back against the headboard behind him.

"Shall we watch your favourite movie?" You nodded and he got the remote from the bedside table, turning on the TV and finding your favourite movie. You stayed like that until the movie was over, cradled in his arms as he held you as close as he could get you, his hands rubbing your arms and whispering sweet nothings into your ear to comfort you.

"You're perfect, you know that right?" You hummed too tired to form words to say back to him, the number of times he'd edged you was getting to you and you could barely make it through the movie you were but before you could fall asleep he sat you up and handed you a bottle of water,

"Painkillers first princess." You sipped some of the water before taking the tablets he was holding out for you, once they were gone he laid down in the bed and pulled you down beside him, kissing your shoulder and whispering that he loved you as you fell asleep in his arms.

Namjoon:

The ropes that were tying you to the bed were cut and he removed the cuff bar from your legs, as soon as your body was released from them you almost broke down into tears, everything that you and Namjoon had been doing for the last two hours hitting you like a wave.

"It's okay, come here." He whispered his cold and rough demeanour was gone and replaced by the kind and caring boyfriend he was every other hour of the day.

"J-Joonie," You whimpered as he held you but he shushed you rocked you from side to side as you cried into his arms,

"My wrists," He reached for the lotion and began applying to where the rope had started to burn your skin and then he applied some to your ankles where the spreader bar had been.

"You did amazing sweetie, you were great." He reassured you sitting back on the bed and bringing you with him you were sitting in his lap with your head resting on his chest.

"I love you." You whispered to him as he continued to hold you close to him, you were listening to his heartbeat to help you calm down from everything, he smiled at you as you whispered to him.

"I love you too baby, get some sleep." He whispered back to you pulling the covers over your bodies and you hissed as you moved to quickly,

"Sorry Princess," He groaned finally getting you both into a comfy position, he laid down and you were drifting off to him whispering how much he loved you into your ear.

Jimin:

Jimin helped you step out of the bathtub and then walked you into the bedroom where he dressed you in your favourite pyjamas smiling as you got straight into the bed, waiting for him to crawl in next to you. He came into the room with a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket, wrapping the blanket around you and placing the cup of hot chocolate on the bedside the table,

"Take these first," He handed you a small bottle of water and some painkillers making sure you weren't going to wake up with a headache or pains from the night you'd had,

"Thank you Jiminie." You hummed after you swallowed the painkillers, he took the water away and went to fetch you a fresh bottle. Wanting you to be as relaxed as possible, he came back into the room and say behind you on the bed holding your hot chocolate for you while you were hunting on Netflix, for a classic movie you both loved so it wouldn't matter if you both fell asleep to it.

"You doing okay?" He questioned wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible but you nodded at him, promising him you were fine but he didn't seem convinced about it.

"I read that sometimes-"

"Jimin, I'm fine I promise." You giggled leaning up and kissing his cheek, he relaxed instantly hearing you promise everything was okay and he wrapped his arms around you. Drawing invisible patterns into the skin which was available to him, whispering quotes along to the movie in your ear.

Taehyung:

His shirt was practically drowning you as he walked you from the sofa and up to the main en-suite bathroom, you'd just had a rough night together on the sofa and now he was adamant on giving you some aftercare, although you were promising he was fine he still wanted to make you feel better. He'd been degrading you like he usually would but there was something that came over him that night and he was a lot rougher than he usually was with you.

"Tae I said I was okay," You giggled as he helped you step into the bubble bath he'd run for you, but it did feel good having all of the bubbles and bath salts relax you. He stripped you out of the shirt before sitting you down into the water and he sat beside the tub, washing your body for you as you laid your head back against the bath pillow that was there.

"I know you did, but I just want to look after you." He whispered running some water over your shoulders and looking at you, your neck was already starting to form the dark purple marks from where he'd been attacking your neck earlier.

"I'll order some food after this, we'll get your favourite." He promised you as he watched you, your eyes were shut as you let the hot water soothe your aching muscles. You hadn't even noticed you were sore until you got into the water and you thanked Taehyung for doing this for you.

Jungkook:

The next morning Jungkook woke up before you and practically sprinted down the stairs to get things for you, he'd gone a little rough on you the night before and he realised that he hadn't given you any kind of aftercare, he just left you there.

"Kookie?" You whined as he woke you up, you rolled over and he handed you some painkillers, a bottle of water and a hot water bottle.

"Stay here, apply that to your lower stomach." You watched as he left the room frantically, you placed the hot water bottle onto your stomach and let out a breath of relief as it eased the cramps you were getting from the previous night.

"I made this," The door opened to reveal Jungkook bringing in a tray full of food and a cup of tea sitting on it.

"Kookie what are you-"

"It's because I didn't last night, did you take the painkillers?" You quickly took them and he got into the bed next to you, hand-feeding you despite you telling him that you could do it yourself just fine but he insisted upon it.

"Just let me look after you," You nodded and he continued to feed you the pancakes he'd been making, then he searched for some soothing music on Spotify,

"I'll run you a bath after this and then we'll binge that show you've been wanting to watch." You nodded and he smiled at you, kissing your lips softly and getting up from the bed to go and run you a bubble bath, adding all the salts and bubbles he could find.

tagline:

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii

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itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto · 4 years ago

Photo

A/N: Hi guys! This was something I came up with whilst talking to @hotchsbabygirl and this fic was born, so enjoy!

Possible Triggers: Swearing, reference to a bad previous relationship where consent was not given and smoking. It’s called... Sugar, yes please!

You sigh, typing up your report of the last case as you rub your eyes. “Anyone else jet lagged?” You ask Spencer and Emily who work at the desks beside you. It’s your fourth case with the team, and as much as you are settling in well, the flying is taking it’s toll on you and you suffer badly from jet lag.

“You get used to it. Took me a few months.” Emily said patting your shoulder relating to how you are feeling. “3 months, 1 day, 4 hours and 1 minute and 59 seconds.” Spencer added. “Oh, so the first few numbers of Pi then?” You smirked. “I didn’t think of that, but yes, I suppose you could think of it that way.” Spencer said, adjusting his glasses. “Nerds.” Morgan said. “Anyone wants a coffee speak now whilst it’s fresh.” “Nothing nerdy about numbers and statistics.” You smile, walking over to the coffee machine as Spencer looks at you with googly eyes. “Just like that, IQ of 187 drops to 60.” Emily laughed knowing Spencer has a crush on the young agent. Spencer snapped back into reality and went to join you at the coffee machine where you were deciding which donut to have, settling on the chocolate sprinkles one. “That’s my favourite too!” Spencer exclaimed “Oh, sorry! Do you want it? I can have the cinnamon sugar instead.” You offer “No. It’s fine really.” Spencer smiled picking up the cinnamon one. “You have it.” “Or we can share.” You offer taking a large bite of the chocolate one, leaving Spencer the remaining half on a napkin. Spencer nods, doing the same thing and hands you the other half of the cinnamon one, noticing you make a coffee. “You want one?” You ask, noticing Spencer is still staring at you, not that you mind. You’ve developed a small crush on the slightly older agent, with you being 25 and Spencer being 28. “Please. My mug has my name on it.. The one you have been drinking out of.. But it’s fine. A different mug will be sufficient.” Spencer says blushing “Oh Spencer, I’m so sorry, I thought all these mugs were the same!” You say, feeling awful. “I don’t wear my glasses very often.” “Don’t worry Y/N. Honestly. They are mostly the same, apart from the brightly coloured ones. They are Penelope’s.” Spencer said. Meanwhile . . .

“Rossi, you won’t believe this. Y/N used Spencer’s mug and shared a donut with him, and he didn’t even flinch.” Derek said, sipping his coffee. “Damn. He must have the hots for Y/N. You know she’s studying for a PhD in psychology and forensics?” Rossi said signing off a document that Penelope gave him. “What are you all talking about?” Hotch said in a stern voice noticing the agents are not doing their work. “Well…” JJ began and told Hotch “Pretty boy better say something soon or I’m going to flip a table.” Morgan said “Keep it professional.” Hotch said, pleased that Spencer has a crush. “No. We will not rest until genius makes a move.” Penelope giggled Back by the coffee machine . . . “You want sugar?” You ask Spencer getting it down for yourself, adding an unhealthy amount. “Please, same amount actually.” Spencer smiled, trying to buck up the courage to ask Y/N on a date. This weekend he had planned to go to a pumpkin patch and get a sweet pumpkin spiced latte afterwards, but would much rather have company, and take Y/N with him. “And I thought I was the only one who liked sweet coffee.” You say putting the now empty bag of sugar in the bin. “Looks like they’ll have to order more sugar.” Spencer smiled as you both walked back to your desks as everyone goes back to pretending they were busy and not listening/watching your conversation.

Later in the day . . .

Since there isn’t a case, you and the team go for a beer after work to celebrate your first month with the team. You sit in the middle fiddling with your converse and sipping your beer. “So, what do you guys have planned for the weekend guys, if we don’t get a case?” You ask, attempting to make some form of conversation that isn’t work related. “Chocolate thunder and I are going to his Mom’s birthday party.” Penelope smiled, sipping her cocktail as Derek smiled as Penelope snuggled into his arms. You think Penelope and Derek are adorable together, and wish you had a relationship like that. “I’m taking Jack go-karting with Henry.” Hotch smiled “They had so much fun playing mini golf last time.” JJ said showing you photos on her phone. “I’m taking Sergio for a check-up and meeting some college friends for a drink.” Emily smiled “I’m revising for my Psychology exam. You all have much more fun planned than me.” You sigh, wishing to be doing something fun. “I’m going to a Pumpkin patch and getting some pumpkins to carve.” Spencer smiled “Do you like Halloween Spencer?” You ask, sipping your beer as everyone groans knowing what’s coming. After about 5 minutes of Halloween facts... “So yes, I guess you could say I like Halloween.” Spencer says sipping his fruit cider. “Well the pumpkin patch sounds like a lovely way to spend a Saturday.” You smile, “I’m going for a cigarette and to get another drink. Does everyone want the same of what they have had?” I’ll get a round on my way back.” You say Everyone nods, and Rossi joins you outside. “So pretty boy, you going to ask Y/N to the pumpkin patch with you?” Morgan asked “No! I’m sure she was just being polite.” Spencer said sipping his cider, trying to hide his blushing cheeks. “Just ask her Spence, I think she’d love to go with you.” JJ smiled “You have nothing to lose besides us embarrassing you for a while regardless of the outcome.” Hotch said “Besides, you have already shared cooties with her anyway.” Penelope said reminding them all of earlier “Fuck this. I’ll do it if it shuts you all up.” Spencer sighed getting up Outside …

“I can’t believe you have been here a month Y/N.” Rossi said exhaling from his cigarette. “It feels like you have been here longer.” “I hope that’s a good thing Rossi.” You smile “It is.. and Spencer has taken quite the shine to you too.” He says “I think it’s that I’m studying for a PhD, or that he’s no longer the youngest on the team.” You say Rossi chooses not to say anything, as the door opens and out comes Spencer. “Hey guys.” He says and gives Rossi a facial expression that means, “Please go away”. Rossi nods in understanding and goes back inside where the team are all behind the door like children, about to listen to the conversation. “Hey Doctor Reid.” You smile at him “Hey future Doctor Y/S/N.” He smiled back “You come out to smoke or just to say hello?” You ask. “Both actually, plus I got a leg cramp.” He said stretching his leg “I didn’t realise you smoked.” You say lighting another one up “Mainly after cases as a way of relaxing, or if something is on my mind.” Spencer said. “Can I use your lighter?” He asks “Sure. Which is it today?” You ask handing him your lighter. Spencer lights his cigarette and hands your lighter back. “Hm?” “You said you smoke after a case, or if something is on your mind. Which is it? It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me.” You say taking a drag from your cigarette. “The latter.” Spencer says taking a drag from his. “I’ve been thinking...” He begins “You? Thinking? No.. Really?!” You joke, trying to cheer Spencer up from whatever is on his mind. “Come on pretty boy... You can do this.” Morgan whispers from the other side of the door. Spencer flushed his cheeks. “Do you like Halloween?” He asks as a few quiet groans are heard from the other side of the door. “Must be the game on the TV.” You say “Or our bastard co-workers.” Spencer thinks to himself. “Probably.” Spencer says through gritted teeth “I love Halloween! I’ve got pumpkin and ghost lights around my apartment at the moment.” You smile. “Why?” “Er..” Spencer shakes a little dropping his cigarette which he quickly picks up again. “I was wondering… It’s okay if you don’t… But do you fancy going to the Pumpkin Patch with me tomorrow?” He says looking down at his converse, with his Halloween socks, little ghosts on one and Frankenstein’s on the other. You smile, a single tear going down your cheek. It has been a while since a guy asked you out, since you left your ex after he cheated. “Spencer, are you asking me on a date?” You ask “Y..Yes I am. But like I said, it’s fine if you say you don’t want to.” Spencer says, still looking down. “I’d love to go with you Spencer.” You smile, lifting Spencer’s head up with your hands as cheers are heard from the other side of the door. Spencer looks at you, smiling wide. “Really?” You nod. “As long as I get to buy a pumpkin for my apartment.” “As long as I get to kiss your cheek.. Like, right now if that’s okay.” Spencer said biting his lip. “Damn pretty boy.” Derek whispered. “We didn’t discuss this.” “But he did ask for consent. That’s more than her ex did.” Penelope whispered “Her ex?” Derek whispered back “Long story delicious.” Penelope whispered “Yes Spencer, that is more than okay.” You smile as Spencer softly kisses your cheek making you blush. “I’ll pick you up at 12.” Spencer smiled, putting his hand on yours. “For now though, I think you promised the team a round of drinks.” “Shit. I forgot about that.” You say getting up, still holding Spencer’s hand and walk to the door. “MOVE MOVE MOVE.” Emily said shoving everyone back to their seats but it was too late, you and Spencer caught them all in the act. “I didn’t realise a sticky bar floor was comfortable to stand on for more than 2 minutes.” You chuckle, finally clocking what the cheers were about earlier. ________________________________________________________________

Well guys, I hope you enjoyed that! I have a few more in the works, and let me know either in the comments, asks or on messages, if you’d like to be on my taglist! Requests are OPEN! Follow up coming soon! Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @aperrywilliams

#my fics #spencer reid #spencer x reader #Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff

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heart-eye-harrington · 4 years ago

Text

i wanna get stuck in your head

(gif credit to @harringtown, thank you!)

Summary: There was so much you wanted to tell Steve, but the words always seemed too scary. When an even scarier situation arises and you find yourself trapped in a Russian base, what do you have to lose?

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: A few curse words, implications of death

Author’s Note: Hi! Based on the song pancakes for dinner! I hope enjoy! I love you!

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

The soft hum of distant machinery and Russian chatter filters into the small room you’ve found yourself in. Blinking through the fluorescent lights and tears is all you can manage with the thick leather straps keeping you bound to the chair. What feels like hours of screaming has robbed you of your voice, leaving words and cries stuck in your throat, forcing them to tumble around your head. It’s you, your thoughts, and an unconscious Steve Harrington.

When you were first thrown in here and your voice still worked, you tried for two things; pleads for help in the off chance someone would hear, and for Steve to wake up. In some twisted way, you were thankful they had you strapped together.

If you’d been left apart you wouldn’t be able to feel his soft breathing or the warmth trapped beneath his skin. The small indications that his injuries, though bad, weren’t bad enough to make him lose himself. If you were apart you’d be losing your mind wondering if he were okay. At least with his back pressed against yours, he was here, even if he wasn’t.

Your head falls on Steve’s shoulder, tears freely flowing like raindrops down a car window. They race one another down your face and onto the fabric of his sailor uniform.

There were so many things you wanted to say to Steve but never found the courage to, and the realization that you might never get to causes your eyes to screw shut, squeezing more tears down your temples. You’d never been forward, not wanting to cross any lines.

There were moments where you tried saying something else instead. After hearing his off-handed comments to Robin about nightmares, you made an effort to ask him how he slept, covering his shifts on the days the nightmares were bad. When he’d talk about bands he liked, you listened, even getting him a new Queen CD after his got scratched.

There were glimmers of hope that he was doing the same, maybe even feeling the same way. After learning that you’d bike in the dark after the closing shift, he insisted on driving you home, even oh days he wasn’t scheduled. Whenever he went to the vending machine he’d buy you a cookie, the chocolate chunk kind, because you stole a piece of his on your first day at Scoops.

But that was it, small actions with nothing explicitly being said. He was probably just being nice, nothing more. You were reading too into things, like an English teacher who took their job way too seriously.

You’re jostled from your thoughts when Steve rolls his shoulders, carrying your head with his movements. He groans, letting the waves of pain escape through the small noise.

“Steve?” your question barely a whisper, both for his benefit and yours. Any noise leaves your throat stinging and his ears pounding.

“Hey”, his voice groggy, head still slumped forward. You sniffle, quickly trying to compose yourself. Steve was always the brave one, as you just saw with him stepping up to deal with rude customers and even more extremely charging and fighting the Russians guard. The least you could do was be brave for him now.

“Are you okay?” you will your voice to come out louder, more solid. He answers you, not initially taking notice of your shaky performance.

“My ears are ringing, and I can’t really breathe. My eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but-” he sucks in a breath, just speaking winds him, “-ya know, apart from that, ya know, pretty good.” You sniffle again and nodding, then realize he can’t see you. You hum, not knowing what to say or do. The moment of silence is all Steve needs to process what’s going on with you.

“What about you? Are you okay?” He tries to push through his unsteady voice, trying to find a more solid, comforting one. Steve lifts his head enough to look straight in front of him, wishing he could see your face. He knew you were never completely honest with your words, but your eyes always gave away what you were really feeling. He knew it was a clique, but he could look at your eyes for hours, trying to crack the case of your hidden thoughts. But instead of getting playing 007 as he usually does, he’s faced with the stark contrast of a metal door and fluorescent lights.

“I’m okay. Just, ya know, never saw myself in a situation like this,” a deep breath fills your chest, puffing it out in an attempt to dislodge the weight settled inside. “I never knew what I pictured, never really wanted to think about it, but I thought I’d be older. I thought I’d have grown old with someone.” You curse your damn nose for running again and the sniffles it caused. Steve shifts, craning his neck in vain to try and see you, to comfort you.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t cry, please,” his voice soothing, soft yet delicate, like an old teddy bear so well-loved the stitches become exposed. “Listen, we’re gonna get out of here. I just need to think.” The strength is back behind his words, conviction trying to drive his point home. His words do register, but your mind is somewhere else. It’s screaming to say something, what do you have to lose? Your stuck what must be miles under Hawkins tied together by a foreign enemy. The words you want to say somehow seem scarier, so you opt to say something else instead.

“There was so much I wanted to do.” the words float out before better judgment can stop them, your head still leaning against Steve’s shoulder.

“And you’re going to. C’mon, we’re gonna get out of here.” Steve seems a bit more frustrated, not exactly thrilled with the direction you’re taking. His brain continues to race, eyes jumping around the room as he looks for any way out. While he becomes more frantic, you only seem to relax. Steve’s focused on the present, while you’re off in dreams of the future, of what could have been.

“I want to eat pancakes for dinner. I wanna watch a T.V. show together, and when we're under the weather we can watch it in bed. I wanna go out on the weekends. I wanna dress up just to get undressed.” the window into your daydream now wide open, the air catching the visions and letting them flow. They hang there a moment before tugging at the corner of your lip. As quickly as it opened, the window snaps shut and reality sinks back in.

“I’m sorry, I just think that I should probably tell you this, in case something happens, something worse than this.” the weight of your words sinks into Steve’s heart, and you’re able to feel the slight difference in his breathing.

Images dance in his head of you using too much syrup for pancakes as the glow of his kitchen lights catches your grinning cheeks. He hears the static of a tv as you laugh at how overdramatic he’s being over a common cold, but play along to indulge him. You’re dancing at house parties, happiness twinkling in your eyes as he tries to slow dance to the pounding upbeat music. He sees his reflection in the mirror as he does his hair for an obscene about of time, just for you to stand behind him and rustle it undone.

After all that, he realized you never the words, but he knew.

A weight sits on his chest as he feels your tears land on his shoulder.

After flirting with customers all summer, he realized he was never saying anything. Sure he spoke to them, and he thought the words were true, but they were hollow. He was saying something with evening drives when he picked you up and played the cd you got him. He was saying something when he bought you cookies. Most importantly, you were trying to say something all along, but he was never listening for it.

Red hot embarrassment burns the rope holding the anchor in his stomach, which burned into a new blaze behind his eyes. If he was determined before, he damn sure was now. He shifts against the restraints, cursing at their tightness.

Before he can say anything to you, the Russians return.

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

The reflections of the mall’s neon lights melds with the emergency crew’s on the wet parking lot. You stare at it all from the back of the ambulance, tugging the blanket they paramedics had given you tighter. Your well-check was quick, you were luckier than most you’d escaped the night.

You watch how the rain catches the vivid color before you feel a presence next to you. You turn to see a bandaged Steve giving you a weak smile, which you return. There’s a moment of comfortable silence before you speak up.

“I’m sorry if I crossed any lines while we were down there. I just-” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut as if your eyelids could hide you from your actions. “I had to say something.”

“Are you hungry?” A small smirk plays Steve’s lips as he looks at the confused expression on your face, knit brows and all. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but not outright avoidance.

“Cause I make some mean pancakes.”

The offer causes a light laugh and your eyes to meet his. He’s smiling like a dork, obviously proud of himself. Joy washes over you, warmer than any emergency blanket ever could. You throw your arms around him in an awkward side hug, face smushed into his chest despite his soiled uniform.

“I’d love some.” your words muffled through the fabric and his arms wrapped tightly around you. Nothing else needed to be said as his hands rub up and down your back. Words would eventually come, but for now, the promise of pancakes for dinner was more than enough.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine

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ollifree · 4 years ago

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1. What are things they both find funny?

Pet antics. They share a morbid sense of humor about the plague that anyone else who lived in Vesuvia at the time would find abhorrent. They have different limits on it and know where each other’s is.

2. If they could each describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?

You’re gonna limit Lucio to one sentence? Lucio? He’s gotta talk about how smart Skylar is, how good he looks, his talent in magic, his thoughtfulness. Lucio’s favorite words for Skylar are, in order, “Pretty, precious, perfect.”

I’m taking Skylar’s from a prompt from last year.

“Should I start with his eccentricities or…? He’s loud, brash. More cunning than people give him credit for. He’ll have an absolute meltdown if he can’t get his makeup right and have himself convinced two seconds later he always gets it perfect. He wears white because he’s always covered in dog hair. He makes sure everyone knows what his opinion on something is, and will do everything within his power to fix something he deems wrong.”

3. If they complimented each other, what would they say?

Lucio makes a point of complimenting however Skylar looks, but it’s a rare day Lucio doesn’t praise Skylar’s intellect and dedication to his work.

Skylar’s go-to descriptor for Lucio is “handsome”. His favorite (non-extensive) list of things to compliment Lucio on are: how hard he tries, how brave he is, his confidence, how passionate he is when it comes to the things he cares about.

They each compliment each other’s ass at least ten times per day.

4. What would be their ship name?

Either "grind against your bones until our marrows mix", or "the awful edges where you end and i begin", both of which are lyrics from Ludo's The Horror of Our Love.

5. What activities do they enjoy together?

Favorite activities are lounging on each other, doting on the pets, and people watching. Skylar gets coaxed into doing magic (however mundane) so Lucio can compliment him. In modern verse they binge watch bad reality tv. Lucio will put up with being outside when it snows only because Skylar likes outdoor winter activities and only because Lucio knows he’s gonna get some hardcore snuggle time at the end of it.

6. What is/are their love language(s)?

Lucio’s are gift giving (showing) and words of affirmation (receiving). Skylar’s is quality time. Physical touch is mandatory for both of them.

7. Write a ~300 word love scene for them.

This question is arophobic.

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

I’m always down for some self-fic plugging [link].

Skylar couldn’t have had a better introduction to Lucio: Julian had brought Skylar to Vesuvia for the menagerie, and Skylar and Lucio immediately clicked over their shared love of animals. Lucio truly has a unique personality and Skylar was excited to meet a new kind of person. Add on Julian’s endorsement of the Count and it’s no small wonder Skylar wound up staying in Vesuvia long past when he would have left anywhere else.

9. Have they made each other cry?

Yes. Mostly via mutual vulnerability and happiness. Then the plague happened.

10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.

This is a direct call out for me not writing my fic yet.

11. What causes them to fight?

Lucio’s Lucio-isms getting out of hand, or Salsa destroying something of Lucio’s. He can’t get mad at his fur babies so Skylar gets to take the brunt of it. Their biggest arguments happened over the coliseum and how to deal with the outbreak of the plague.

12. Do they have differing political opinions?

Before Lucio’s death Skylar didn’t invest himself enough in Vesuvian politics to give a concrete answer in that area. Insofar as Lucio’s views of being in a position of power? Yes they absolutely have different opinions.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

I was originally going to say “nothing”, then I remembered Lucio has one. So Skylar’s currently sitting at a “nothing” with an asterisk of “unless I remember something”.

Lucio’s is being around Skylar when Skylar’s sick. Lucio has a phobia of catching whatever’s going around after the plague and has to nope out of situations where he’s around illness. That being said he is hyper aware of Skylar’s health, as after leaving Vesuvia Skylar becomes more prone to colds and flues.

14. What would be a dealbreaker?

Skylar's dealbreaker almost happened, which is someone's wants getting in the way of / actively opposing another's needs. Lucio's would be unfaithfulness.

15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

Nothing they outright dislike, but they do recognize the faults the other perceives in themselves and help them improve in that regard. For Skylar it’s his non-confrontational nature getting his needs and wants ignored. For Lucio it’s empathizing with others and taking responsibility for, and dealing with, the consequences of his actions.

16. If they broke up, what would be their opinions of each other?

How dare you.

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

Never in anyone’s life would Lucio have expected to get an attachment to the smell of books yet here he is. The same goes for hot chocolate. Skylar walks into the makeup department and it’s just like walking past Lucio’s collection.

18. What would be their love motto?

19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

This isn’t in the marriage vows because they have the awareness to go “if we say half the things we feel in front of anybody, concerns we are not equipped to address in an acceptable way will be raised.” After the ceremony, when they’re on their own, this exchange happens:

Lucio: “Love me. Until we’ve been dead so long our bones are dust.” Skylar: “Not good enough. It’ll have to be until the world is ash.”

20. What is a promise they have made to each other?

Similar ones to what’s above. Trauma-induced codependency reinforced by magic ritual body trading meta sure is something.

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

For the better: by helping one another with the issues listed in question fifteen. For the worse: they gain a lot of codependence for stated meta reasons, along with a very deep-seated fear of losing each other again.

In the end they do leave Vesuvia. Ultimately they are going the route of “this is a very important lesson we’ve learned about responsibility and the consequences of our actions. Now let’s get the fuck out of the city we’re responsible for and one of us nearly ruined with his actions.” They acknowledge the hypocrisy of this, and while in the end they’re better off outside Vesuvia it is there.

22. If their lives were what was originally intended at birth, would they have still fallen in love?

Because I’m a sucker for them the answer’s yes. They only hit the love stage to begin with because Lucio was able to put the work into unlearning and breaking the cycle of the worst parts of his tribe’s culture. I will say though that Lucio staying with the tribe would make it vastly more difficult for them to meet. Skylar still does his traveling, as his parents didn’t have any major expectations beyond “well-functioning adult” when raising him, but considering how infamous the warring tribes of the south are I don’t see travel into the steppes being easy or recommended.

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

I honestly may come back to these but 300 words is a lot for my amount of spoons rn.

24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?

“Skylar has never done anything wrong in his life.” - Lucio Arcanagame

Salsa’s definitely destroyed a few things Lucio’s particular towards, and as it’s impossible for Lucio to be mad at any of his fur babies Skylar gets the brunt of it.

Along with Lucio getting snippy with him for Salsa mauling his good shirts, Skylar’s had to forgive Lucio for a lot. Mostly it’s Lucio-isms that make things get blown out of proportion. Then there’s the Coliseum. And Lucio’s deals. And the plague.

25. What moves do they know work on the other?

“Want to have sex?” / “Yes.”

If all else fails, Lucio knows he can get Skylar out of a book and back to real life by smoochin’ behind Skylar’s ears.

26. What are their favorite parts about physical affection/sex?

Sex is a cathartic extension of their shared love language, physical affection. The orgasms are an added bonus.

27. Do they have any kinks/fetishes that they share?

All of them. Like I say it as a joke but it’s just easier writing-wise to have them on the same level. Realistically it’s like 80-90%. Both of them want to please their partner and have a good time doing so. Their communication on that front is solid.

28. Write a ~300 fantasy one of them has about the other.

This question is acephobic.

29. What are each of their signature foreplay moves?

“Want to have sex?” / “Yes.”

30. Write a short exchange of dirty talk between them.

What up I’m Olli I’m almost 27 and I still haven’t learned how to write porn.

Lucio:

“Does puppy want me to fill him up?” “So precious…” “Look. Look at what I’m doing to you.” “Beg for it.” “Not yet. You piss when I tell you to.” “Do you like the taste of your cum that much?” “Good boy.”

Skylar:

“How you feeling, handsome?” “Are you ready to behave?” “What a mess you are.” “Fuck me so full I can’t move.” “You want to be good, don’t you?” “Master.” “Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Fuck me, fuck me.”

31. What do they love to do after sex?

Shared baths.

32. Do they enjoy morning or night sex?

Why are we limiting when the sex happens? The time of day doesn’t affect their enjoyment of it. They’re exhibitionists with impunity there is literally no limit on when the sex can happen.

#arcana #lucio #skylar #oc things #otp: live inside you #it took me a year and three months to finish this #but it's finally done! \o/#so much development have been done #and so many answers have become more concrete

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amberjade-rhodes · 4 years ago

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Making Up | | AJ + Bryce

WHEN: 1 April 2021

LOCATION: Bryce’s room

NB: After having a few drinks, AJ decides that enough is enough and goes over to Bryce’s place to talk to him; the two not having communicated since their heated argument almost a week ago. NB: this chatzy is a work in progress so will be updated as we go, however it is almost finished!

@brycecortez

It had been a few days since she and Bryce had gotten into an argument and he had sped off alone, the two not having spoken at all since that argument. AJ had called Lola to pick her up after learning that the last bus of the night was cancelled and had cried herself to sleep in the guest bedroom, having no idea whether she and Bryce were even still together. The argument itself had happened on the Saturday night and still not having answers, she had stayed back at Mars Bar on Thursday night when her shift finished, knocking back a few drinks with some of her co-workers. When she ordered an Uber to go home, she impulsively ordered it to Bryce’s apartment instead of the beach house. Once she got there, she gathered a few pebbles and stated throwing them at Bryce’s window; a decision that she would never have made whilst sober. As soon as he opened the window, she launched into the speech that she had loosely planned on the car ride over; talking quickly so that he didn’t have the opportunity to tell her to fuck off. “I don’t understand why you’re trying to push me away and I’m not going to lie and pretend that it doesn’t hurt. Hell, I’ve spent this whole week unsure if I even have a boyfriend anymore and my brain keeps telling me to cut my losses and run away before I get hurt any further but I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I refuse to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over, especially when it means possibly losing one of the best things in my life. I love you, Bryce, even when it’s not pretty. Even when you make me cry or want to scream or quit, I’m still going to love you. God, I love you in this huge, stupid all consuming-way that makes me get drunk and do dumb clichés from romantic comedies! You don’t give up on something like that. I’m not sure if you’re ready to admit it, even to yourself, but I think you need me just as much as I need you so no matter how hard you try and push me away, I’m still here and I’ll still be here when you’re ready to talk to me”, AJ yelled up at him. “... and that’s all I came to say so now I’ll call an Uber and we’ll pretend that I’m not awkwardly standing outside your apartment whilst waiting for my ride”.

Bryce had spent the last few days in a haze, in and out of his emotions. One day he was sniffing ten lines of coke to help him get rid of his thoughts, the next he was completely numb to the point he didn’t need to touch anything. He had come completely out of touch with reality, almost to the point that he was becoming not functional. Bryce finally gave his professors, job and coach some bullshit excuse about his absence, blaming it on the military. All that they knew at this point was that he was out of town for a quick training. He had just taken a few lines, feeling practically on cloud nine when he heard a noise outside. He paused everything for a few moments, assessing what was happening before he heard the noise again and again. The knocking like sound almost becoming more and more frequent. Quickly putting the plate and drugs away, he got up and walked over to the window. Shock flooded his body when he saw Amber-Jade. The two hadn’t talked in a few days, and before that in a week. If he were being honest, Bryce didn’t know where exactly he stood with his girlfriend... if they were even still together after their blowout. He hadn’t been given the chance to say anything before she began talking. With each word spoken, he could feel his heart sink further and further into his chest - feeling the same heaviness that he had spent the last month trying to push away. He didn’t realise how much he needed to hear those words, /I’m still going to love you/. “Come inside”, Bryce requested, just loud enough for her to hear. He met her downstairs at the entrance, opening the door up for her and stepping to the side to let her in. “I’m honestly not sure if Ryan’s home. I haven’t really seen much of her”, he admitted, basically verbalising how he had been isolating himself. The man grew nervous as the two stepped into his room, knowing that it had all practically changed since the last time she was there. New furniture to replace the one he destroyed. A new mirror to replace the one he also destroyed. New TV, new everything. “Make yourself comfortable... do you want anything?”

Amber-Jade wasn’t stupid. She noticed the fact that Bryce didn’t say it back, that there was no apology for his recent behaviour; nor any sort of explanation or assurance that he still loved her and that they were still together. Still, he invited her inside rather than telling her to fuck off and in her mind, that was a step in the right direction. AJ quickly made her way upstairs before he could change his mind, which is when the pieces clicked into place for her. She wasn’t sure what the cause was but she recognised the symptoms - isolating himself from the people that cared about him, pushing people away, the substance use, the fact that his entire bedroom looking different... it seemed like a trauma response, something that AJ knew well because of her own engagement in such behaviours over the years. “I don’t know if she’s home either but I’m only here to see you so it doesn’t really matter”, AJ said softly. “This is going to seem a little weird for a moment but bear with me, okay? I promise that it’ll make sense at the end. Can you please go and make us hot chocolates?” As soon as he left the room, AJ made herself busy. She cleared enough space in the wardrobe for both of them to sit in there together before dragging as many blankets and pillows inside as she could; essentially building them a little fort. By the time he returned from the kitchen, it was finished and she looked at him nervously. “When I was little, I used to hide in my wardrobe with a good book so that I didn’t have to hear my parent’s arguing. I was actually hiding in the wardrobe on that night. My mind doesn’t allow me to remember all of the details, which I think is to protect me, but I remember enough to really fuck me up. It’s hard to explain how it feels but I’m going to try...”, she trailed off for a second, collecting her thoughts. “On a good day, I can manage how I’m feeling with exercise and maybe a few drinks but even on the good days, I can feel a little emotionally detached. I almost always feel guilty for the fact that I survived, guilty for not doing more, guilty for being angry at my mom for dying. The nightmares are pretty bad too, even on a good day”, she said softly. “Bad days, though? I can’t even get out of bed without taking something for the pain. I want people to be close to me because I hate the thought of being alone but at the same time, I can’t have them /too/ close to me. I’m angry at the world, I’m so anxious that it feels like I’m drowning under it, so I take whatever I can get my hands on because feeling like that... sometimes it feels like it might actually kill me”. When she finished talking, she avoided his gaze; worried about his reaction. “I think you might be feeling some of those things too so I thought we could get in here and just shut out the rest of the world for a while”.

Bryce furrowed his brows at her request. He found it odd, but he shrugged it off and left the room to go to the kitchen. He put milk into a pot and began the process of making the two hot chocolates. As what could be expected, he spiked his with a bit of Tito’s vodka, but kept hers the same. He walked back into the room with both mugs in hand, an expression of surprise evident on his face when he noticed the set up. Bryce didn’t understand where all of this was coming from; her words continuing to surprise him as she spoke about her own experiences. His eyes remained fixated on the ground as he tried to process; the more she spoke, the quicker he could feel his high slipping away, and the quicker he felt that black hole reappearing. Still, he was too exhausted to say anything, let alone be a dick to the one person that cared about him. “Okay...” He caved in, his voice quiet and broken. “Your hot chocolate’s going to get cold.” He said as he handed over the mug, all before walking towards the wardrobe. Bryce took a seat inside, taking a sip of his drink as he made himself comfortable. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I was sober for four years, and now that’s completely down the drain.” He said simply, taking another sip of his drink.

"Thanks", AJ said softly, taking the mug of hot chocolate before taking the seat opposite him in the wardrobe and closing the door behind them. The two were thrown into relative darkness, although the pinpricks of light seeping under the door were enough to see his outline. "I'm really sorry. I've never been sober for that long so I can't even imagine how rough that must feel right now", AJ said, her voice soft but empathetic. "If you want to get sober again, I can... I can quit with you. Go to meetings with you. Support you through it all". It was a big offer from AJ, who had barely spent more than a day sober since she was around 17 and Ollie had left the group home. "If you aren't ready for those steps yet though, that's okay too. I'm still here".

Bryce allowed Amber-Jade to close the door behind her, leaving the two in almost complete darkness. The light peering in from under the closet door illuminating the closet just enough he was still able to make out his girlfriends features. “I can’t ask you to do that.” He shook his head. “I’ll stop soon. I have no choice. I can be dishonorably discharged from service for this shit.” Sighing, he took another sip of the drink before putting the mug on the floor next to him. He brought his knees up close to his chest and rested his arms on them. “I lied to everyone about what happened when I left last year. To my sister, my brothers, Oliver, Lola. Allison’s always been very worried about me, especially when I leave. She makes it a point to know absolutely everything that’s happening wherever I am, and she heard about an explosion and freaked out when she couldn’t get in contact with me. I told her that it didn’t happen at my base because I didn’t want her or anyone else to worry, but it did. I watched a friend of mine die March 11th. /I/ almost died March 11th. And part of me thinks I should’ve.” This was the first time he ever said those words out loud, the first time he ever brought up the date. Bryce felt his chest tighten at the thought of opening up about something so personal to him. He hated nothing more than being vulnerable. “Nobody knows. Nathan only knows because he used to work with one of the guys that died that day. Nobody knows about any of it, anything that has happened during my service I keep to myself. It should’ve been me that died that day.”

“Except you aren’t asking, I’m offering. If you need someone down in the trenches with you, I’m it. I know how much serving means to you so I don’t want you to lose that”. It was easier for the two to engage honestly in this environment, where it was dark and they both knew that they were safe. She listened quietly as he spoke, her heart constricting painfully in her chest and a few errant tears burning down her cheeks. It was hard listening to Bryce’s confession, to know what had been haunting him and why he had been so intent at pushing her away. “I hope your friend is resting peacefully”, she said quietly. She didn’t want to depend on the “I’m sorry” cliche because they both knew that it didn’t help anything. “Your friend, your sisters, your brothers, Ollie, Lola... there’s a reason that you survived and I think they’re a large part of it. I know that you don’t see it but so many people are better because of knowing you, because they loved you. I don’t know your friend but if he cared about you even half as much as we do... he wouldn’t this life for you. He wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life wishing that you were dead instead”. Her voice was gentle and completely non-confrontational as she really didn’t want to do anything to trigger him. “All I’ve ever known is the darkness, Bryce. I’ve come to terms with it now because I’ve always been sure that there’s no escaping it; that it’s ingrained in me and I can’t do anything about it but... sitting here with you, listening to you... I don’t want this to be your future. Our relationship is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you’re the best person to enter my life and I will do everything I can to get you through this because you deserve more than a life spent hiding in wardrobes with me”.’ AJ’s anxiety and insecurity meant that there was a part of her that worried that if Bryce got better, he would realise that he deserved more than her but she loved him enough to take that risk; all she really wanted was his happiness, even if it meant that it wasn’t with her.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready to do. I’ll get through this, I always do.” Bryce assured. If he were being honest, he had been completely thrown off by Amber-Jade’s offer. He didn’t know much about her drug use, and that was mainly because he had worked hard to stay away from environments that promoted drug use. He never had a problem with alcohol, but if there was one thing he struggled with often, it was compulsion. His head snapped up, looking at her with sad eyes when she said the comment about Eric. “Yeah, I hope is resting peacefully too. He was a good guy.” Bryce said in agreement, sighing immediately after. He nodded as she continued speaking. The man appreciated her words, it was comforting to hear, but it was still hard for him to hear. It was the same words people told him after the car accident, and when his father died; the same words he just couldn’t bring himself to believe. “I don’t want to live like this either, but I’m not your responsibility, Amber-Jade.” He said simply, his voice soft. “If this is because you’re scared of losing me, you’re not. I’m sorry for being up and down with you. Last week...you saw a side of me that I try to keep suppressed. The side that’s insecure, angry, and broken...it came out that night, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think there will ever come a time where I’m /ready/ to do it but that doesn’t mean that I don’t need to take that step. After that house party and then seeing you at that apartment... I think I’m starting to realise that I can’t keep being so self-destructive. I have people that care about me now, I have goals for the future, things I want to do and achieve... I can’t keep this up for the rest of my life”, AJ admitted, nervously rubbing at the back of her neck as she spoke. “I really hate the fact that I’ve become a stereotype”, she added. It was true — traumatic background, poor socioeconomic area and she had turned to sex work and drug use. She wanted to be better than that. “Do you want to tell me about him?” she asked. She was unsure if that would be helpful or not but she wanted to give Bryce a safe place to talk if he needed it. “You aren’t my responsibility but we’re partners, right? There’s no way in hell that you’d let me go through this shit alone. Whenever I’ve needed you, you’ve dropped everything to hold my hand and help me through the worst of it. I’m going to do the same for you and there’s no point arguing with me because I’m just as stubborn as you”, she pointed out, ending her sentence with a slight joke. “I’m not going to lie... I’ve spent the last week fairly certain that you had broken up with me that night and it did really hurt. Part of me just wanted to pack my bags and run away because that’s what I always do, it’s what comfortable to me. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realised that this is bigger than us. Even if you did end our relationship, I’d still be here and I’d still want to help you because I know what it’s like to be in the darkness alone. Yes, I’m scared of losing you because I always lose the people that I love but this is more than that, I promise”.

Bryce simply just nodded at her words. “I’m really glad you have people that care about you. If you feel as though you need to get clean, then do what you have to do.” In that moment, he couldn’t really say that he agreed. With his sister gone and his estranged relationship with Oliver, the man sometimes felt as though he was alone. That, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to sober up; he loved how numb the drugs made him too much so give it up. “It’s not my place to tell you about him. I just want to forget about all of it. The accident, my father, the bombing, everything. I don’t want to relive things more than I’ve already had.” He stated simply, his voice monotoned and a bit emotionless. “Do you still want to be with me?” Bryce asked suddenly, finally looking up at her. “I know I over reacted at the drug dealers house, but I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here. Because I know I love you, and I do whatever the hell I have to do to make sure people respect that. I know I can’t stop people from hitting on you, but...I just need to know that this is serious. Because unlike you, I have nothing here, and I’m not afraid of packing my bags and running.”

AJ just nodded and said nothing further on the topic. She had extended the offer to help her boyfriend before he experienced any consequences, such as being discharged from active service, but it was clear that he wasn’t ready for that help. She wanted to be there for him but it felt like she was walking on eggshells; like she was just one conversational misstep away from causing their relationship to implode. Her anxiety really was sky high, her hands trembling slightly as she held her hot chocolate. “I get it. I’m the same way about my mom. I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me if you want to”. Whilst people knew that her mom was dead, no one really knew anything about who she was as a person; or the relationship they had shared before her untimely death. It was too hard to talk about. “Of course I do, I’m sorry for making you doubt that. I’ve just... I’ve been hearing comments like that since I was 15 so it just feels like white noise to be now. Sometimes it’s easier to just let the comments wash over me and just bite my tongue because the alternative isn’t always pretty. The racist and sexist verbal abuse I’ve received when I reject someone, the insistent wandering hands even after I’ve said no... those past experiences have made me wary of speaking up all the time. I just want you to know that even when I don’t push someone up against the wall and threaten them because of the comments, I always find a way to tell them that I have a boyfriend and that I’m not interested”, she told him. “This is serious for me. I didn’t flippantly make this commitment, Bryce. There is a reason why this is the first relationship that I’ve ever been in... this isn’t something that I take lightly. I know I’m not perfect. I know that you can do better. I know that it probably feels easier to just cut and run but p-please... please don’t pack your bags and run. Please don’t leave me”. Her voice broke slightly as she spoke and she placed her mug down on the ground so that she could pull her knees up against her chest; resting her head against them to conceal the raw emotion on her face.

“Thank you. I really do appreciate it.” Bryce said, his words sincere. “I understand, trust me I do. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything to jeopardize your safety, but...fuck, I don’t even know what to say right now.” His thoughts were messy, which only made his words just as messy. Hearing her voice crack the way it did...well it was a sound that Bryce never wanted to hear every again. “Hey, hey, hey...” he said quietly, immediately reaching out to grab her hand. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I don’t ever want to leave you, I love you, and if anything you’re the one that can do better. It’s just...I don’t know. I feel lost. I want to get better, but I don’t know how. I can’t bring myself to talk about anything...and I don’t want you changing yourself or feeling as though you have to look after me every second. I hate being that burden on you, I don’t want that.”

“That’s okay”, AJ said simply, allowing that part of the conversation to come to a natural conclusion. Neither of them would push the other to talk about things that they found difficult to discuss. “I meant what I said that night, Bryce. I won’t go back to that guy’s apartment again. I can’t control how other people talk to me but I can make sure that I don’t intentionally put myself in situations that make you uncomfortable”. It did hurt that Bryce didn’t fully trust her in that regard but she understood that he was in a heightened state so his ability to engage in logical and rational discussion was reduced. She started slightly when he reached out and grabbed her hand, sure that he was just trying to soften the inevitable blow he was about to deal her. When she heard his soft words instead, she slowly lifted her head, her cheeks stained with tears. “You aren’t the only one that feels like that. I spend most of my life feeling adrift and lost but somewhere along the way, you’ve started to feel like home. Being with you doesn’t magically fix all my issues but you make me feel steadier on my feet. Understood. Seen. Loved. You make me feel like maybe the rest of my life won’t be filled with bad things, that maybe I’m allowed some happiness too. I don’t think you see me as a burden, right? You don’t constantly feel the need to change yourself to be with me? Why can’t I be the same for you?”

Bryce nodded when she told him that she wouldn’t go back to the house. He felt like he was being a bit unreasonable, and he probably was, but it felt as though everything heightened. Especially emotions. “I change myself every day to be with you. Because you deserve more, deserve better.” He whispered. “I just don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this. All I can think about right now is how the coke and heroin in my drawer will help me forget about all of this. I can’t feel like this anymore…I’m scared, Amber. I don’t know how to get myself through this time.”

Amber-Jade looked at him sadly when he said that he changed himself every single day to be the person that deserved to be with her. She reached out and gently stroked his cheek, a sad smile gracing her face. “You don’t have to be perfect, Bryce. I love you exactly how you are, flaws and all. All I really need from you is to be here, to be with me, to not leave me behind”, she assured him. She didn’t need him to be trying to fit this perfect ideal of a boyfriend; she just wanted the Bryce Cortez that she had fallen head over heels in love with. She just wanted him by her side. “I know that it’s not easy to let someone see you like this but I’m not just anyone, okay? No matter what version of you I see, I’m not going anywhere. You won’t scare me away, I promise”. The one good thing about her past was that Bryce’s current presentation wouldn’t scare her away, she was able to take it in stride and focus on helping him. “Do you want me to get rid of it? I can toss it out right now if that’s what you need. If you aren’t ready for that... maybe we could go to bed? I can hold you until you fall asleep, it’s what my mom used to do for me when my father was high... before she started using herself”.

“I don’t want to leave you...you’re the best thing thing that’s ever happened to me.” Bryce spoke quietly, not being able to maintain eye contact with the other. He gave a shy smile as she stroked his cheek, finding her touch rather comforting. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this, though. It’s not fair to you, especially given your past.” He realized in that moment just how much of a monster he probably was a week ago, and just how selfish he was for forgetting the history of her parents for just a split moment. “You don’t need this in your life. You don’t need /me/ in your life.” He whispered, letting out a defeated sigh. Not saying another word, he grabbed his mug and shimmied his way out of the closet, offering her his hand to help her get up. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I don’t want to ruin any plans.”

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too. I never thought that I'd have this with someone... I never even /wanted/ this with someone until I met you", AJ said softly. Noticing the way that he smiled for the first time all night, she kept her hand on his cheek and shifted the rest of her body a little closer to him. "I'm not letting you go through this by yourself. We're in this together so even though it's hard right now, I'm still going to be here every step of the way. You've seen me at my worst and loved me just the same and nothing is going to stop me from doing the same for you". AJ certainly hadn't entered into their relationship lightly and she was in it for the long haul, for better or worse. "I do need you, though. I wouldn't have started dating you if I didn't need you. I wouldn't have fallen in love with you if I didn't need you. The way I feel about you... how much I trust you... how I can be truly myself around you... none of that comes easily for me so I'm not throwing in the towel just because you need me a little more than usual right now". She took his hand and got to her feet, the two of them leaving the closet together. "I'm not going anywhere. Could I please borrow a shirt though? Sleeping in this skirt isn't exactly comfortable", she said with a small smile, trying to lift his mood somewhat as she gestured at her leather skirt.

Bryce didn’t hesitate to pull the girl closer to him, taking full advantage of her shifting closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “I love you.” He whispered, the words coming out more easily this time than other times. Those were three words he didn’t say often to anyone, but with her it seemed to come naturally. The man simply nodded at her statement, still finding it hard to believe that someone could love him as much as she did, especially in that moment. But he wasn’t going to question it; he already questioned her enough the last week or so. He picked up the two mugs from the closet and walked them over to his desk, taking another sip from his before putting it down. “I think this conversation sobered us up, but I have a confession...I may or may not have spiked my drink.” He said with a sheepish smile, sighing in relief as the words left him. Bryce chuckled softly at her request, turning to look at his girlfriend and smiling. “It’s a nice skirt, though. You look good.” With that, he pulled out a cotton shirt from the drawer and put it over his shoulder. “Hey, about what you said last week, and earlier...” He trailed off, beginning to help her get out of the tight skirt and her shirt. “I know this wasn’t easy for you, to be with someone — because it’s not easy for me either. I never want to hurt you, but I’m still not used to all of this.” He admitted as he helped strip her of her clothing, unhooking her bra before helping to put on his shirt.

"I love you too", AJ murmured in response, holding her boyfriend tightly. She had /hated/ arguing with him, hated the uncertainty as to whether they were even still together, and was incredibly relieved to know that she hadn't lost him. AJ knew that they still had a lot of things to work through, both individually and together, but at least they were still in this; at least they were still a team. "I'm kind of offended that you only spiked yours, where was my liquid courage?" she jokingly questioned, laughing softly as she noticed the sheepish smile on his face. The bigger conversation about his sobriety would happen on another day, right now she just wanted to support him through the worst of it. "I always look good, you have a very hot girlfriend". Again, another joke. She just wanted to keep that small smile, that laughter, that lightness in play for a little while longer. "I'm not used to all of this either and I know that I'm not perfect. I just... I want you to know that I would never do anything to break your heart, Bryce. I wouldn't betray you or cheat on you or disappear on you. When I made that commitment to you, I wholeheartedly meant it". She was quiet as he finished helping her change into one of his shirts before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss against the corner of his lips.

Bryce was still a bit in denial about the status of his mental health. A part of him knew that he was lying to himself when saying that this relapse is just a way for him to cope as he got through this tough anniversary month. But one thing he did come to realize was that this doesn’t have anything to do with anyone else in his life, so he really needed to be careful with how he treated some people — especially now that he couldn’t just run away like before. “I’m pretty sure liquid courage is what brought you here to begin with.” He joked lightly, attempting to push any dark thoughts and cravings to the back burner. “I do. I’ll never deny that.” He said lightly with a smile. Bryce sighed as she spoke, nodding his head slowly to show that he understood. “I know.” The words came out in a whisper as his head hung low, not being able to find the courage to remain eye contact with her. He gave off another shy smile when he felt her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth, attempting to hide the fact that he could feel his heart beating all over his body. He /hated/ being vulnerable, and although he knew it was necessary for the two to make things right, he found himself attempting to push off his fight or flight. “There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry. I’m drained so I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Touché. I can't believe that I actually threw pebbles at your window and then gave a big speech... I never thought I'd be recreating that cliché", AJ groaned before laughing softly at her own expense. She really had pushed herself out of her comfort zone tonight but it seemed like it was worth it because she and Bryce had actually spoken again; and patched up a few of the issues that they had been experiencing. "It's refreshing that you see me as more than just a pretty face, though", she added. In her past, she had predominantly been treated as a piece of meat so her relationship with Bryce really was refreshing in that regard. She just squeezed his hand gently when he hung his head and said that he knew, not pushing the point any further as she didn't want to make him feel any more upset or guilty over everything. "I'm not hungry, I just want to go to bed with you", she assured him. Right now, there was nothing that she wanted more than curling up with Bryce and hopefully making him feel safe and secure, at least for tonight.

“If it means anything, I’m really glad you did.” Bryce admitted, speaking in a soft tone. He didn’t want to admit it right there in the moment, but he didn’t realize just how much he needed someone; how much he needed /her/. “That’s because you are more than just a pretty face, Amber-Jade. The looks are merely just a bonus at this point.” He said in a sincere tone, giving her a shy half smile immediately after. Nodding his head, Bryce began to undo the bed; pulling the sheets out so the two could climb in together. “It’s a new bed so it should be much more comfortable than before.” He chuckled softly. He hadn’t gotten much of the chance to break in the new bed, considering he found himself to be an insomniac as of lately.

"I'm a little embarrassed but I am glad that it seemed to work". AJ had never been the type to engage in grand romantic gestures, yet Bryce was seemingly the exception to her own rules. "You know that I feel the same way about you, right? It's not just physical attraction and sexual chemistry... this is real", she said softly, the two of them climbing into bed together. "Holy shit, it feels like a cloud! I think this might just be the most comfortable mattress ever... you have good taste, Cortez". When she was sure that Bryce was comfortable, she curled up behind him; essentially taking the 'big spoon' role. "I'll be here when you wake up, I promise", she whispered, the woman holding her boyfriend until he eventually drifted off to sleep.

#chatzy #c: bryce #finished #finished thread #look at us go!#we actually finished something lol

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cynicalrainbows · 5 years ago

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Possibly the sappiest thing I have ever written.

Based off an idea @upsettimyspagetthi and @moan-jeutas had, about an AU in which Bessie is fostered by Aragon and Hyde features as a stuffed animal (and Maria features as Aragon’s pet cat).

Honestly, content warning again for how incredibly bad this fic is; there is like no plot.

She’s never been one to cry easily. It’s not out of toughness- tears just don’t come easily to her, even when they should, even when she can TELL someone is getting frustrated with her refusal to just react like a normal kid fergodsake, even when she knows that it’s what they want. Whether they’re someone looking for tears of contrition, or of forgiveness or (and these are the worst, these are the ones who get angriest when she remains sullen and dry-eyed, ironically) the ones who want her to cry as a sign that she’s finally opening up…..they all go disappointed.

Except now she’s crying for real, her throat hurts and her head hurts and her face stings from the salt and she can’t stop and it’s for such a stupid reason too, that’s what makes it even worse.

She never forgets to shut her bedroom door usually- it figures that the one time she gets careless is the one time that Maria actually bothers to drag herself upstairs, the one time that her animal-huntress-instincts seem to have gotten the better of her usual sleepy-lap-cat self.

Whether she was playing at being a leopard or whether this is her cat-way of telling Bessie she isn’t welcome in what used to be just Catalina’s flat…..well, it doesn’t matter.

Hyde is just as shredded either way.

(The fact that she still thinks of her as Hyde- the fact that she’s still thinking of this pile-of-fur-and-stuffing as her at all- is ridiculous and she knows it. Why can’t she just grow up?)

If she was a proper person, she’d just shrug it off, she knows. Move on. Get a snack, watch tv.

Even if she was still a bit sad about it- well that wouldn’t be unreasonable. But she’d still be able to get things in perspective, to reflect that a shredded soft toy arguably a very, very light price to pay for the fact that she now gets to live with someone who doesn’t say her name as if they’re trying it out for size, who doesn’t coach everything in false smiles, who actually remembers things like her hatered of tomoatoes and her preference for burnt toast, who asks her opinion as if it matters.

She is grateful for these things- she is, she is- but obviously she isn’t grateful enough because she can’t stop the sick emptiness inside, she can’t push away the sudden feeling of being very, very alone and very very small.

She can’t rationalise and she can’t reason, she can’t even clear up the mess of fabric from her usually scrupulously clean carpet. Instead she just sits puddled on the carpet and holds a piece of Hyde’s fur to her face and sobs the way she’s seen kids cry on their first day as a Kid In The System.

It’s ridiculous. She’s ridiculous.

(No wonder nobody ever wanted her until now.)

She can’t bring herself to throw the pieces of Hyde away but she can’t leave the mess either so she nudges them under her bed.

That’s all she can do for now.

When Catalina comes home from work, she’s gotten as far as dragging herself down to the living room (no one likes a reclusive teenager, she knows that already, so she does her best not to be one) and she’s washed her face in water cold enough that most of the redness has gone from her cheeks. She makes a decent attempt at sounding normal (she thinks).

Clearly though, she isn’t doing a good enough job: she’s just thinking she’s gotten away without Catalina picking up on anything amiss when Catalina takes the last of the freshly-dried dishes from her hands and asks her if she’s ok.

She freezes.

She’s already prepared some answers (Fine. Tired. Homework.) but they fly from her head for a moment and she just stares at the woman, not saying anything.

Catalina is one of the more patient ones (she’s stopped- just about- being scared that Catalina will get cross at her not answering fast enough) but annoyingly, she’s also one of the more persistent ones.

‘Bessie? Are you ok?’

‘Fine.’

Her mouth is dry and she’s angry at herself. Here she is- at the best placement she’s ever had- and she’s ruining it, just as she always does. Sometimes it’s her moods and sometimes it’s her nightmares and sometimes it’s just her being a bit too weird.

‘You look so worried, querida.’

She hates the concern in Catalina’s face. If Catalina knew that she was moping over a stupid stuffed animal…. The thought makes her feel a bit sick.

‘I’m okay. Tired.’

She hates the thought of Catalina looking at her in that way they all have- half pitying, half mocking (‘Don’t you think you’re a bit old to be so childish, Elizabeth?’ ‘Don’t you think you should grow up a bit?’), which soon resolves itself into weary resignation (‘Of course, they’re all like this really- they all have these issues-’).

She’s determined not to drive Catalina away like she has done everyone else- she can be normal, she can be adjusted, she can- but even as she’s thinking it, something in Catalina’s voice, in the warmth of her hand on her arm (not gripping her, not pulling her, just….there) makes her have to blink hard and bite her lip.

‘Bessie- please talk to me, what is it?’

She shakes her head. She can taste blood.

Why is she like this? Why is she so pathetic?

Catalina still doesn’t look annoyed though- she doesn’t look as if she’s getting tired of trying, as if she’s edging into one of those ‘I don’t know why I even bother-’ sighs. Instead, she just wraps an arm around Bessie’s shaking shoulders and walks her into the living room.

‘Just one of those days?’

It’s a question she can answer by nodding (it’s an answer that will hopefully cut off the possibility for more) so she nods once and allows Catalina to gently pull her down to sit on the sofa.

‘You poor thing.’ She finds the tv remote and flips through the channels. ‘In that case, I reccomend a cup of hot chocolate. And some poor quality television.’

There’s a pause, and she feels Catalina draw back the tiniest bit, the way she always does, giving her an out, giving her the chance to escape if she wants to. ‘Of course, if you would prefer some space, that is also completely alright, ok? I could bring you a drink up to your room if you’d like?’

(It’s funny- she’s the only one Bessie has ever known to remind her so often that she doesn’t have to stay, that she’s free to go, that she can choose what to do. Funny too that it’s these reminders that she can leave that actually make her want to stay, more than any number of requests to ‘Come sit with us!’ ‘Come join in!’ ever have done. She knows it makes no sense.)

Part of her wants to go back to her room, where she can fall apart in peace and without fear of Catalina seeing….but then she knows if she does go back to her room, she’ll just be faced with having to throw Hyde away properly. So she stays.

She ends up tucked under Catalina’s arm, silent tears dripping silently down her face and soaking into Catalina’s shirt, while a host of women argue over wedding dresses on the screen.

They don’t talk, other than Catalina occasionally murmuring assent or disagreement over the choice of one bride or another.

‘Ooh...bad choice, mija….. She thinks that lace is good idea?’

(When Bessie first came to live with her, she had assumed that Catalina had been watching the reality tv shows in an attempt to bond with her, and that her commentary was the forced, awkward attempt of an adult to connect to a nearly-teenager. She’d hated it.

Now though, she knows that Catalina will watch the program with or without her, and that her commentary, likewise, will go ahead whether or not Bessie or even Maria is there to hear it, and it’s oddly soothing, as background noise goes.)

Every so often, Catalina will hand her a tissue from the coffee table, or tighten her hold on her, or press a light kiss to the top of her head, but she doesn’t press for answers or intimacy and Bessie is grateful.

Still though, not grateful enough- because she’s still just….sad.

She wonders if this is how people feel when people they love leave- she knows it’s awful of her to think it, to compare the two things…..but still. (Hyde at least has been constant. Hyde has never shouted at her, hit her, locked her into or out of a room. Hyde has never lied to her, broken a promise or feigned anything. Obviously, her capacity to do any of those things is somewhat limited, due to her not actually being real but…...still. Hyde at least has never left her.)

After a couple of episodes, Catalina suddenly remembers she needs to put a load of laundry on and excuses herself (‘I’ll be right back, querida; I’ll make the hot chocolate after I’ve put it on-’) and…..Bessie waits.

And waits.

And when she realises that Catalina has been gone for far, far longer than it would take someone to put a load of laundry on, she feels- after the familiar first sudden sick sinking feeling- a distinct lack of surprise.

Of course she got tired of her.

(They all do, in the end.)

She wonders if the drawing away will happen all at once (like it does sometimes) or if it will be more slow (like it is othertimes).

She doesn’t know.

But it is coming- she knows that much.

And now she doesn’t even have Hyde.

On screen, a woman jumps up and down, her face red, arms waving. Bessie can’t even tell if she’s meant to be pleased or not.

Catalina does not come back.

After a while, she wonders if she should go to bed- it’s getting late after all.

The hall is dark upstairs- no light under Catalina’s door, maybe she’s already asleep (making it her first night in Catalina’s home without being wished sweet dreams)- but lightness from her own room.

Which is funny because she’s sure she turned the light off….

Catalina is sat on the edge of her bed, and she jumps, guiltily, when Bessie enters.

‘Oh! Querida, you startled me-’

Oh god.

Bessie has had people go through her stuff before but the fact that it’s happening so fast….it just hits her hard.

Was her mood really so noticeably bad that Catalina thinks she’s hiding something?

She wouldn’t be the first to suppose drugs or boys or boys-with-drugs….and she wouldn't be the first to go actively searching for evidence….. Bessie’s stomach clenches into a tight fist.

‘I’m sorry-’

‘-I think we need to have a talk-’

They speak almost at exactly the same time but she knows what she’s heard- she’s heard the same words before out of the mouths of so many people. She knows what’s to come. She just hopes she can keep herself together throughout it- it’s always been so much harder when she breaks too quickly, there’s something vaguely repulsive about being begged for another chance, she knows (and it never changed their minds).

(She won’t beg.)

‘Ok.’

‘Sit down.’

She sits.

‘Querida...there’s no easy way to say this…’ She bites her lip in anticipation, steels herself.

‘And I’m so sorry it’s come to this-’

Here it comes: ‘Just not working out….better for us all….fresh start…..’

‘-but I must have completely forgotten to shut your door this morning-’

Ok. This is not what she expected.

‘-and Maria…. Well, decided to take against your things, for some reason-’

Catalina takes a breath and takes what she had been holding from where she’d pushed it under Bessie’s pillow.

Not her diary after all, like she’d assumed.

Hyde.

But not Hyde as she’d last seen her- she looks the same as always, as if nothing has happened at all.

‘I’m so sorry querida- I thought I’d have finished before you came up, when I first found her but I lost track of time….’

She grabs Hyde from Catalina’s unresisting hands and studies her: up close she can see the lines of tiny stitches, she can see where the scraps of fur have been patched together and patiently, bit by bit, restuffed.

There are still a couple of seams left to do but- there’s no doubt about it- she’s pretty much finished.

‘You- fixed her-’

‘I tried to- I’m so sorry, I don’t know what got into Maria to make her go so wild-’

Catalina looks so apologetic and it’s just….strange to see.

She’d have expected a brush off, perhaps a scolding for being careless enough to leave her door open, perhaps a chiding for being childish enough to even care since she’s nearly a teenager, she’s nearly an adult, or close enough-

The idea of Catalina frantically sewing in order to fix a stupid stuffed animal- even trying to do it quickly like it was a big priority, something important- makes her throat feel tight all over again.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t do a better job of it darling-’

Catalina’s words barely register- she holds Hyde against her face and tries to breathe normally: she’s slightly lumpier than usual but she still smells the same and oh god, the sudden lifting of the darkness that had settled upon her is enough to make her feel limp with relief.

She leans against Catalina’s shoulder and sighs shakily.

‘I’m- you-’ She can’t find the words for what she wants to say- she can’t express it all properly and she isn’t even sure that she wants to- but she grips Catalina’s arm fiercely and clutches Hyde against her chest with her free hand. ‘You fixed her-’

She feels almost dizzy- as if she’s just felt too much in the last few hours. It’s exhausting- and she can’t explain that either, not to Catalina (who she is sure is probably wondering why Bessie hasn’t even said a proper thank you, is probably secretly still thinking she’s too old to make such a fuss over something so silly, is probably thinking twice about- It’s an effort to shut down the spiral but she does, just about. Catalina’s warm, solid presence next to her helps.

‘Of course.’ She says it so easily, but not as if she’s upset with Bessie for doubting her. ‘I promise, I’ll always try to help if I can. With anything.’

It’s a promise she’s heard a variation of many times before….but never when accompanied with actual sewn-together proof of the truth of the words.

She can’t explain that either, why it means so much to hear it now, why it’s making her cry all over again as if she hasn’t already been pathetic enough for one day….but perhaps Catalina understands a little bit anyway: her other arm goes around Bessie’s shoulders, her hand gently rubs circles against her forearm.

‘Ok. It’s ok. Everything is alright, sweetheart.’

Catalina sounds so very sure; Bessie lets her eyes drift shut for a moment, focusing on her voice, on her touch.

‘Everything is alright.’

Perhaps it will be, after all.

#sixfic #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction

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once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 5 years ago

Text

Laughter, Love, and Other Products of a Quarantine

Yay, I’ve gotten around to actually posting it on here! I’m so lazy and I can never figure out how to get the italics to transfer because I copy from google docs so I copied it from there to word and then copied it again and pasted it here but THEN it kept all the weird indents that look icky on Tumblr so if anyone knows how to get rid of all these annoying issues I’d really love to know

I’m absolutely interested in taking prompts if anyone has something Captain Swan they’d like to see...as I’m sure you could guess, I definitely have the time. For those of you reading Even If It’s A Lie (first of all, thank you, I love you), I’m hoping to update that soon too. If you haven’t read it but you’re interested, here’s a link to that.

@coffeenotess made this lovely moodboard for my fic:

summary: Emma Swan has been roommates with Liam Jones for years, but hates his brother. Okay, so she's met him once and it was a brief encounter, but still. But of course he's visiting for the week when the mandated quarantine happens. And of course Liam just happens to be out of town for the weekend when it does.

word count: 8,716 (yes, it got a little out of hand)

rating: M, entirely because of language

also read it on: AO3 | FFN

Emma sighed at the knock on her door, pushing herself off the couch to open it. She knew who would be on the other side, and it made her blood boil to think about it.

“Swan!” The dark haired, broody, eyebrow wiggling man exclaimed as soon as the door was open.

“Jones,” she managed to grunt, turning to find her place on her comfy couch for her current Netflix binge. She so desperately wanted to ignore him for the entirety of his stay at her apartment.

“Liam is so lucky to have such a charming roommate, love,”

“His bedroom is the second door on the left,” she said instead of making a snarky comment about his usage of the nickname ‘love.’

She really didn’t have any reason to truly hate him. In fact, she’d only met Liam’s brother once before, but there was just something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was the smirking, or the innuendos. Either way, she wasn’t exactly thrilled when Liam offered him lodging while he was in town for work. And of course Liam just had to have a weekend trip planned for him and his girlfriend. Emma absolutely adored Elsa, she even introduced the two, but she mildly resented her friend for taking her roommate away and leaving her with Killian Fucking Jones.

He left her alone for an hour or so, probably unpacking and making himself comfortable, and of course she could not care less about what that man was doing. Except when he decided to interrupt her show.

“Would you like some tea, Swan?”

Okay, so it was a polite interruption but still. This was an important part in her show. “No thanks,” her voice quick and rather icy.

But then she felt rude, so she tried to make up for it with conversation—he was Liam’s brother, after all, and she didn’t want to cause any unnecessary friction between the brothers. So she reluctantly got up from the couch and moved to lean against the kitchen counter in an attempt to be mildly civil. “So um, I’m surprised your work still has you traveling, you know, with the pandemic and all,”

He chuckled lightly, and she was glad her snark hadn’t wounded him permanently. “Me too, but it’s all about the money, of course.”

She struggled to recall the conversations Liam and she had about Killian and his life. “What is it you do again?”

“I’m a strategy consultant for publishing companies along the east coast,” when she couldn’t stop the raising of her eyebrows, he laughed. “What, expecting something more befitting of a scoundrel such as I?”

She rolled her eyes at his drama. “Well, Liam said you enjoyed sailing, maybe I thought you were a pirate,”

“Alas, such a profession is frowned upon by societal norms. Plus, I wouldn’t get benefits with just a ship and a crew.” He took a tea bag from the jar of Liam’s favorite Irish breakfast tea. He paused, “Are you sure you don’t want any, Swan?” He was way too considerate for her liking, but she tried not to let it fuel her bubbling hatred. He would be with them for a little while, and she didn’t want it to be awkward.

“I’m good, I promise. I will, however, make some hot chocolate.” She went straight for the cinnamon, extracting it from its place in the cupboard before grabbing the mix and her favorite mug. She’d just finished stirring her drink when she was interrupted by her phone ringing. “Hey, Liam,” she greeted.

“Emma, where are you right now?” His voice was a little panicked, a little hurried.

“I’m at home with your brother, why? What’s going on?”

“Turn on the news. Now.” She rushed to change from her Netflix show to the local news channel.

“Breaking news for the Boston area: we are going into a mandated lockdown. The lockdown begins at midnight tonight, so I hope you have stocked up on all your essentials. There will be limited officials who will be able to deliver supplies upon request, but unfortunately it looks like we will be stuck for at least two weeks. Stay tuned for the latest—”

Emma stopped listening, trying to figure out how the fuck she was this unlucky. One more day, and Liam would have been home. But no, of course he couldn’t be. Now she was trapped with his smirk-happy, younger, more annoying (and more attractive, though she wasn’t quite ready to admit that yet) brother.

“Emma?” she’d forgotten that she was on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I just heard,” she was trying very hard to remain calm. “Are you sure we’re not just being pranked right now? Like maybe this is some new reality TV show thing that they’re trying out and they’re trying to convince everyone the world is ending,” she knew it was far-fetched and absolutely ridiculous at this point to hope it wasn’t real, but it was easier to process than her present situation.

“I really don’t think that’s it, Emma,” he replied, and the way he said her name reminded her that she needed to relax.

“You’re right,” she took a deep breath. “I’m fine, look, I’m gonna go figure out how we stand on supplies. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Call me anytime,” he replied, and she was struck by the fact that she had people now, but it was not the time for that brand of breakdown.

“Looks like we’re stuck together,” Killian joked once she was off the phone, but she could see that the smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a bit of fear behind them, and somehow it made her feel better.

Her panic was still fresh, and she needed to get away from that room and that man. “I’m gonna...go see how much toilet paper we have left,” and she left as fast as she could without actually running.

It wasn’t that she was worried about her health. She was fine, and David, Mary Margaret, Ruby, Liam, Elsa, Anna...her family was all in good health. A lot of the world would be okay, and a lot of the world would not be. But that part was surreal, far away. And also out of her control, which wasn’t exactly something that made her jump with joy. What she could control and worry about was her new roommate for the foreseeable future.

Killian was somehow simultaneously easy and hard to hate. Somehow. His tendency to flirt with anything that breathed and the fact that he could see right through her like he knew her...that made it easy to hate him. But she had also seen, not only in the last twenty minutes or so but also in Liam’s infinite stories of him, that he had that bad boy with a heart of gold thing that just so happened to be her fictional character ‘type.’

It didn’t help that her mind was at war. One side of her, the instinctual, foster kid side, told her to run. Avoid him like the plague. Ironic, really. She wanted to hide in her room for two weeks or a month or however long they’d be stuck in her now-too-small apartment.

But the other side, the side that came directly as a product of spending years in the company of her friends—no, her family—told her to open herself up to him, take advantage of the time she’d have with him and try to really get to know him, to see the man Liam had raved about for years.

Needless to say, Emma had a headache.

She spent ten minutes or so just pacing in her room, before deciding to actually check to see how much toilet paper she had in her personal bathroom. Once she’d calmed down enough, she returned to the kitchen, only to find Killian rifling through the pantry.

“What are you doing?” She hoped it didn’t sound like an accusation, but an innocent inquiry.

He didn’t seem fazed by it and simply replied, “I’m trying to determine how long we can survive without supplies,”

“And?” She’d succeeded this time in making her voice much more inquisitive than sharp.

He moved to face her, done with his assessment of the cabinet. “And, we have plenty of alcohol, a good amount of coffee as well as a few other beverages, and on the food front, I think we’ll be okay for about two weeks.”

“Good, good. I’m sure we’ll be able to get groceries before then,” she said, although there was no way she could be so certain.

She cleared her throat anxiously, “Look, Jones, I think we should be friends.”

“Friends?” His stupid eyebrow was doing that thing again.

“Yes, friends. We’re stuck together, so we might as well make the most of it. I think if either of us would like to retain a single shred of sanity by the end of this, we have to get along.”

“I wasn’t aware that we weren’t already friends, Swan,” his gaze made her stomach turn.

“Oh really? You think I’m just this warm and bubbly to all my close pals?” She joked, then added, “Do you think we can just start over?”

“Of course, love,”

She held out her hand, and he took it. “I’m Emma Swan,”

“Killian Jones. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, Swan,” he grinned.

She rolled her eyes once more at his drama. “Now that that’s over with, what should we do now that we have all this time?”

“Well, I do have one idea…” his voice was so suggestive and seductive it should be a crime.

“Woah, woah, woah,” she held up a hand as if she could force his train of thought to come to a stop.

“Come now, Swan, I was going to suggest a movie. I don’t know where your mind went, but my idea was entirely innocent,” he assured her, although the teasing in his voice made her positive of what he’d intended her to think.

“Ah, yes, a movie. Of course,” she nodded, crossing the room to take her place on the couch. He joined her tentatively, taking Liam’s usual seat on the other end of the sofa. “Any suggestions?” She asked, and he looked thoughtfully for a moment.

“I’m not sure, do you have a genre preference?”

Her lips ticked up a little, “Well, lately I’ve been on a rom-com marathon, but I’m not sure how much you’d enjoy that,”

He feigned offense, “I am always in the mood for a romantic comedy, Swan. I’m insulted that you would assume otherwise,”

She put her hands up as if in surrender. “Okay, okay, I shouldn’t have assumed. But do you have any ideas?”

“Well, what do you have?”

After showing him her extensive movie collection that she was extremely proud of, he selected one of her favorites and they settled in.

What shocked her more than the fact that Killian Jones enjoyed romantic comedies was that he also got rather worked up when the characters did something he didn’t agree with. Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her very much, given his tendency for drama in his life, but it was still jarring to have him yell at Jude Law.

“Come on, mate,” he muttered, exasperated. When she looked at him curiously, he exclaimed, “Well, he’s just letting her go!”

But all was well, of course, because Cameron Diaz decided not to leave, and as always, everyone lived happily ever after.

Once the credits rolled across the screen, Emma excused herself to go to bed.

“Sleep well, Swan,” his voice was unusually soft.

“You too, Jones,” she called over her shoulder as she headed towards her room.

It was annoying how often he crept into her mind as she went through her nightly routine. He was a baffling man, and it was getting harder to hate him. Especially after seeing him call Jack Black ‘blind.’

“He’s been in love with her since he laid eyes on her, Swan,” he’d said.

She looked forward to seeing more rom-coms with him in the coming weeks, and that kind of freaked her out. She’d never say it out loud.

Emma woke to the smell of bacon, and it startled her. But as soon as she remembered the night before, one Killian Jones, Mr. Would You Like Any Tea, she really should have known. She didn’t mind in the least, as her usual breakfast was just toast or cereal, or if she was going out, a good bearclaw.

“Good morning, love,” he greeted, just as cheery as his brother at that time in the morning.

“Is it a Jones family requirement to be a morning person?” Emma was famously grumpy before 11 o’clock, even more so if she didn’t have a warm beverage in her hand.

He just laughed, and placed a mug of something in her hand. When she stared at him questioningly, he told her, “some hot chocolate, Swan.” With an eye roll, he turned to flip a pancake.

She took a sip carefully, mostly because her brain was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She looked down at the drink she was holding. “This has cinnamon in it,”

“Aye, that’s how you like it, isn’t it?” Although he faced the stovetop, she knew that his eyebrow would be raised.

“Uh, yeah, I’m just trying to figure out how you knew that,”

“You made some for yourself last night, Swan. Remember?” He told her, as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Oh yeah,” she muttered. He noticed. And remembered.

At this point, to say that she hated Killian Jones would be an outright lie. This charming, annoying, thoughtful man was making her breakfast and he remembered how she liked a drink she made in front of him one time.

In fact, if she were a different person, she might even say that she liked him.

“It’s ready, Swan,” he said.

She watched him as he took two plates to an already set table. She would not let this freak her out, she promised herself. She knew how important it was that they both try to have fun and relax during this extremely confusing and anxiety-inducing time.

So instead of obeying that voice in her head that was yelling at her to run, Emma took a seat across from Killian at the table and smiled at him.

After breakfast, they brainstormed activities, then got to work. Although, it was much more like play.

Emma beat Killian at Wii bowling, but he kicked her butt at tennis.

“Oh, come on! How are you this good?” She cried after he scored on her yet again.

“I don’t know, love, I guess I’m just a very skilled man,” he told her with a wink.

They got a little too competitive once they started playing baseball, and they decided it was better to stop playing than to potentially cause permanent damage to any furniture.

“We could reorganize the kitchen,” Killian suggested.

“Are you kidding? That sounds terrible,” she grumbled.

He chuckled at her childish attitude. “It’ll be fun,”

She wasn’t sure how that worked, but somehow it did. They reorganized the pantry and all the cabinets before she started whining. “This is horrible,”

“Fine, Swan. What do you suggest we do?”

“I’ve been meaning to change the light bulbs in my bathroom for like six months,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. Maybe she should start counting. “Okay, and after those five minutes?”

“I’ll let you know when we get there,”

It did take five minutes, but then she decided to find a new mop on Amazon for the one she’d been thinking about replacing for a year. Killian very harshly judged her shopping methods, claiming that she shouldn’t buy it unless she is able see it and touch it herself, but she reminded him that they couldn’t exactly go out.

They ended up going back to the Wii, this time playing Wii Sports Resort. He complained that basketball was a stupid game when she won, and then proceeded to kick her ass at swordplay.

“Swordplay? Really?”

“Come on, Swan, you yourself called me a pirate,” he teased.

She shook her head, “I did not, I only said I thought you might be a pirate.”

“Same thing,”

She sighed, “do you think it’s lunchtime yet?”

He looked at his watch, groaning. “It’s only been an hour and a half,”

“What?” She almost screamed. “How is this even possible? I thought it had been like four,”

“Unfortunately not,” he sighed. “But don’t lose heart, Swan. I’m sure there’s lots more we can do,” he said, and thought for a moment. “Do you have any board games?”

“Oh hell yeah,” she led him to their game closet, and he immediately went for Monopoly. “That’s a dangerous game, Jones,” she warned.

“I’m well aware, Swan.” He met her wild eyes, “And I do so love a challenge.”

“You’re on,”

They played for three hours, and they were quite equal opponents. Neither let the other hoard all the railroads, and they were good at snatching up the last of a color before the other could have a monopoly.

But then Killian landed on Park Place. He already had Boardwalk.

“No!” Emma cried, but of course he purchased it, and began piling on the houses.

It was a long time before Emma landed on either property, but she did. It didn’t damage her bank too much, but she knew she wouldn’t survive a second payment.

Sure, in a typical game, Park Place and Boardwalk weren’t really the smartest investments. They take up so little space on the board, it’s complete luck to have a player land on it. But because they were both so strategic throughout the earlier game, neither even held a monopoly until Killian got ahold of Park Place. And in a game of just two players, trading wasn’t going to happen.

She cringed when he added a hotel, and just hoped she wouldn’t have to find out what the rent on that one was.

A few turns later, she landed on Boardwalk. “Pay up, love,” he was absolutely beaming, and instead of handing over the cash, she just started throwing hotels at his head.

They called it off after that.

“Tell you what, Swan, I’ll think about forgiving you if you help me make lunch,”

She considered it for a moment, but decided it was for the best. “Fine, just don’t make me do anything difficult.”

They just had grilled cheese and tomato soup (unfortunately there were no onion rings on hand), but it was the best damn grilled cheese she’d ever had. She hoped it had more to do with a secret ingredient Killian had somehow added when her back was turned, rather than the person who made it.

They decided to try to do some work, but it was short lived. Emma studied the information she had on her current skip for a little bit, but there was no further she could go without actually tracking the guy down.

Killian was also unable to get very much done, because as he discovered shortly after opening his computer, the company he was working with at the moment had temporarily shut down. He couldn’t exactly strategize without a company to work with.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he declared once they both realized there was no work to be done.

Emma just stared out the window for a few minutes, never before wanting to go out more than in that moment. Wordlessly, she got up, searching in a drawer beneath the TV.

“Ah ha!” She held up the treasure she’d just located.

“Fuck yes,” Killian jumped to turn the Wii back on.

She laughed at his enthusiasm. “Just to warn you, I am a pro at Mario Kart.”

“Of course you are, Swan,” he smirked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a very talented woman, love, and I’d never claim otherwise.”

“But?”

“But, that’s what you said about Monopoly. And we saw how that turned out...” She smacked him playfully on the arm at the reminder of her painful loss.

“No, no, no, Jones. I never said I was a pro. If I remember correctly, I only implied that I was good.”

“Fine. We’ll just have to see who the true champion is, won’t we?”

She was good; ‘pro’ wasn’t an easily-earned term for Emma. Killian couldn’t deny that she was extremely skilled. They played for an hour, and Killian had only won twice. He admitted defeat, which was a difficult thing for him to do.

She bowed at his recognition, secretly very proud of herself at beating him after not playing for like three years.

Emma left after a little while to take a shower, surprisingly sweaty after Mario Kart. She used her time under the hot water to release her tight muscles in her back and shoulders. She was sure they were a product of her tensing over the remote, absolutely determined not to let him win.

She tried not to let her mind drift to him as she attempted to relax, but that was proving more and more difficult as she spent time with him. It certainly didn’t help that she was pretty much only spending time with him. But that was inevitable.

She took her time brushing her hair out and getting dressed, trying not to let her newfound sense of calm to slip away.

She was just considering returning to the living room when a Skype call came through on her computer.

“Emma! How are you? Are you okay there by yourself?” Mary Margaret asked, the worried mom-friend as usual.

“I’m fine, I’m great. And I’m not alone, Liam’s brother is here, remember?”

She cringed at David’s sudden appearance next to Mary Margaret. “Oh yeah? And how’s that going?” David asked, a hint of something with an edge in his voice. Accusation? She wasn’t sure.

“It’s great. I promise,” she hoped her words would calm him. It’s a good thing he was married to the mom of the friend group, because he was definitely the dad. “We’ve mostly just been playing Wii. I just destroyed him in Mario Kart,” she told them proudly.

Mary Margaret laughed, and David added, “Attagirl,” as if she were actually his child. Ridiculous, but it made her smile.

They chatted for a little while, catching up on all the personal life things they’d been missing the last few days in an attempt to do some social distancing.

“But I guess the party’s canceled now. I hope this is all better by the Fourth of July, or I’m going to be very grumpy,” Mary Margaret nearly pouted, and it made Emma laugh.

“I’ll let the authorities know that it’s gotta be finished before then, okay?” Emma teased.

“Swan?” Killian called, knocking on her door. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” She asked as he cracked open the door, just his head peeking in.

“I was wondering what you’d like for dinner, but I can come back later, I can see you’re occupied.” He moved to close the door, but she stopped him.

“No, no, it’s fine.” She gestured for him to come in, and then angled her computer a bit to introduce them. “Guys, this is Killian, Liam’s brother. Jones, this is Mary Margaret and David. They like to think they’re my parents,” she grinned at their objections.

“It’s nice to meet you, Killian,” Mary Margaret said once she was done reprimanding Emma.

He shifted nervously, and he had this look on his face that she couldn’t quite read. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

He was the pinnacle of manners, and she should’ve seen it coming with the way Liam was.

“I heard that Emma kicked your ass in Mario Kart Wii,” David said, pride dripping from his voice. It made heat rush to her cheeks.

“Aye, that she did. It was a well earned victory,”

Once again, Emma was surprised at Killian’s words. Although it was more the tone that confused her, the hint of pride that matched David’s. It was rather unexpected.

Dinner was an interesting affair to say the least. Emma tried to help, really, but she wasn’t one for cooking. Luckily, he’d noticed that from her attempt at assistance when they’d made lunch earlier, so he was prepared.

“All you have to do is stir,” he told her.

“Are you sure?”

This made him laugh, and she caught herself watching as his eyes squinted and his head was thrown back in the movement. “I’m positive, Swan.”

Killian put together the most gourmet spaghetti and meatballs she’d ever seen, and it was fascinating to watch him flit around her kitchen, adding this and that, completely focused and in his element.

The stirring he’d tasked her with was a homemade sauce, which she thought was a little crazy, considering you could just buy some in a jar at the store. When she mentioned this, he shook his head.

“Sure, you can buy the premade sauce, but why do that when it’s so easy to make your own, plus, it’s so much better,”

She bit back a laugh at his passion for anything homemade. It was adorable.

She froze for a split second. The thought had just appeared in her head without warning. She returned to her mechanical stirring, but she remained in her head, trying to find the root of the thought. Did she really think he was adorable? She must have, or else the thought wouldn’t have been so instant. But really, you’d have to be blind to miss the attractiveness in his features, and claiming otherwise was what they called denial. Maybe it wasn’t such an important thought after all.

“It’s ready,” he informed her as he opened the fridge and pulled out an unopened bottle of red wine.

“Good thing we reorganized the kitchen earlier, or else you wouldn’t know where the corkscrew is,” she grinned.

“You’re so right, Swan. A wonderful idea on my part,”

They enjoyed their meal in a comfortable, companionable silence. It was kind of funny, how completely opposite their relationship was from just the night before. She’d dreaded his arrival for hours, and now she was starting to think that perhaps she was trapped with just the right person.

She was surprised she didn’t choke on her food when the thought popped into her head. She hoped maybe some conversation would distract her from her head.

“You’re a wonderful cook,” she commented.

“Thank you, love. I learnt the importance of a well cooked meal from my mother,” he told her, fondness in his voice.

Liam never really talked about their mom, but she knew she’d died when they were young. “That’s what Liam usually says,”

“Aye, he was lucky enough to learn a lot from her before she passed, and I was lucky enough to have him to teach me when I was older,” he said, his smile much softer than before.

“He’s a good brother,”

“Aye, too good to have to put up with my shit,” he agreed, but she could hear the hidden meaning in his words.

“You know, Liam’s spent the last five years or so talking you up. Always telling me how great you are, how proud he is of you...it got pretty annoying after the first few times,” she tried to make it casual enough that he wouldn’t be uncomfortable with her confession.

His eyes got slightly bluer somehow, and his smile turned into a smirk. “Well, how could he not boast about me?”

She decided that her mission was successful, and it eased a weight around her heart to see him accept this new information.

After a second glass of wine, she helped him clean up. He washed, she dried, that was the system, and a good one at that. They made quite the team.

They chose another rom-com from her collection, and once again Emma enjoyed Killian’s comments, although this time most of his anger was directed towards Justin Long. “Does he really think he’s not completely in love with her? That’s ridiculous,” he huffed.

She grinned, “I don’t know what to tell you, Jones. Men are blind, I guess,”

He shook his head. “Not all men are that blind, love, I promise.”

She tried not to think about his words as she climbed into bed. She was exhausted after all that competition and emotional energy. There were so many little things she’d picked up on over the course of the day, it was no wonder she was so good at her job.

She didn’t hate him, and probably never did. He was far too thoughtful to be real, too considerate. He read her like a goddamn book and she had no idea how to deal with it. She just hoped their understanding of each other would be to her advantage and not cause her harm.

Over the next few days, the two of them fell into somewhat of a routine. Killian would make breakfast, then they would goof off and play games until lunch. After that, they tried to do something productive, but as the days passed that got a bit harder, especially after they’d deep cleaned the whole house. On day four, they prepared what Emma called ‘niche powerpoint presentations.’ It was a good way to kill an hour or two, especially when Killian created a literal Ted Talk about why Peter Pan is actually the villain. It made Emma laugh so hard her stomach hurt.

After their productive time, they’d give each other some privacy for whatever they needed or wanted to do. Emma usually just showered and Skyped her friends, although one day she took a nap.

Then it was dinner, which Killian would make, and then Emma would help him clean up. They finished off their days with a rom-com that usually had Killian annoyed at this character or another. It was funny (and adorable) every time.

On day five, Liam and Elsa Skyped her, and Emma brought her computer out to sit on the coffee table so they could both talk.

“So Emma, how are you getting along with my little brother. Is he giving you a lot of trouble?” Liam chuckled.

“Younger. Younger brother,” Killian muttered, arms crossing his chest like a four-year-old.

“No, he’s been feeding me, so that’s good,”

“I was a bit worried you might starve with me gone for so long,” Liam teased.

Killian rolled his eyes. “You know I’m perfectly capable of cooking, Liam,”

“Oh of course, of course,” he agreed too quickly. Emma was no expert at sibling relationships, but she was pretty sure that he was implying he was the superior cook. He wasn’t, but she was afraid she was beginning to become biased, so she didn’t trust herself to say it.

“Emma, have you been talking to David and Mary Margaret much?” Elsa asked.

“We Skype just about every day. They’re so parent-y, still,”

“That’s definitely not a word, Swan. ‘Parent-y,’ really, that’s not even creative,” Killian shook his head in feigned disappointment.

“I’m sorry, but I momentarily blacked out and forgot the word parental. Are you happy?”

“Overjoyed.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about you two destroying the apartment,” Liam said.

“What are you implying?” Emma raised her eyebrows.

“I figured that by now you would’ve murdered him, Emma, but you’re more tolerant than I thought,” he said.

“I can’t say I haven’t considered it once or twice,” she ignored his call of ‘hey!’ and added, “but I would’ve been left with the mess, plus it would’ve just been me for two weeks and that doesn’t sound fun,”

“That’s understandable,” Liam nodded seriously.

“We’re so proud of you, Emma,”

They ended the call a little while later, and all was well until Elsa called her just after she’d gotten out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you, uh, alone,” Elsa said.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine. Sorry, I realize how that sounded. No, I mean...you and Killian seem to be getting along really well,”

“Oh,” that made her pause. “What makes you say that?”

“I kind of thought you still hated him, but, well, you guys were very much flirting while we were on Skype, Emma,”

“Oh.”

She’d gotten so used to his company and their playful banter that she didn’t even realize what had been right in front of her. “Oh,” she repeated once it sunk in. “Well shit,”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. I’ll, um, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Emma, are you sure—”

“Bye, Elsa,” she hung up before she could finish her sentence.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Emma’s brain became what she liked to refer to as a Shit Tornado. It was just...shit. Flying around, spinning, going one hundred and fifty miles per hour and destroying everything in its path.

She liked him, like liked him. Yes, the official middle school definition. She actually cared about him, and she had no idea how it happened. But did he also care? She should’ve figured that one out days ago, really. The hot chocolate that first morning? It was so obvious. There were so many looks she tried to ignore, on both ends, actually. Many comments she pretended never happened. God, she said that men were blind, but holy shit! She might as well donate her eyes, because she clearly hadn’t been using them.

She wasn’t sure how long she let the Shit Tornado ravage her brain as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, but there was a knock on the door.

“Swan?” His voice was soft and sweet and fuck.

“Go away,” she muttered, absolutely in no state to see him.

“Love, what’s going on?”

He was so goddamn nice it made her want to cry. “Nothing,” it was a blatant lie, they both knew it, but she didn’t care. There was silence on the other side of the door, and she wasn’t sure if she was more relieved or disappointed.

But after a moment, he said, “I have rum,”

She sighed, going against at least half of the cells in her body and reaching up to open the door.

He was extremely polite and didn’t mention the fact that she was just in a robe, and he moved to sit beside her on the floor. Wordlessly, he unscrewed the cap to his flask and passed it to her.

She took a few sips and returned it to him. He didn’t pressure her to speak, and at this point that didn’t shock her. He wanted to wait until she was comfortable.

“Do you remember when we first met?” She asked.

“Of course,”

“I was a little rude,” she said quietly. “Do you know why?” He just shook his head, letting her continue without interrupting. She smiled. It was a weak one, but it was still a smile. “Something you said really freaked me out,” she looked at him.

His eyes found hers, and she could see that he was searching his memory.

“You said, ‘try something new, darling. It’s called trust,’”

“I sounded like a jackass,” he mumbled.

She laughed, “That’s not what freaked me out. What freaked me out was that just before you’d said that, I wanted to trust you. I felt like I could, and I’d known you for like ten minutes. Everyday, when I’m working or whatever I’m doing, I listen to my gut. That day, it was telling me to trust you, to open myself up to you. But I couldn’t risk being wrong, and it was so startling to want to trust someone, and I just-I couldn’t handle it. So I pushed you away,”

“That makes perfect sense, love.”

She sighed. “But this funny thing has been happening. I don’t want to push you away anymore,”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’d like to not be pushed away,” he told her. “But I also want you to be comfortable, and happy,”

“I know, but I realized today that I am comfortable. So comfortable it scared me,”

“Look, Emma, I know you’ve been hurt before. I know that it takes a lot to earn your trust, and I want you to know that it would be very much worth the effort, for me.” He shifted to face her properly. “I don’t do things part way, Swan. You should know that. If you’re willing to give this a shot, I’m ready to go all in,”

She stared at him for a moment, as if she were expecting to wake up from a dream or snap out of some sort of hallucination. “I’d like to try to give this a shot,” it was just a whisper, but the effect it had on his whole being was massive. His grin alone created a fire that warmed her heart.

Emma awoke with that childlike first-day-of-summer hopefulness, ready for all the joy and possibilities that lay in front of her.

But once she was out of her room and staring at him at the stove, she realized that she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to act or even feel. She had a new tornado in her brain, but this one was the polar opposite of the Shit Tornado, this was a...Joy Tornado? It was definitely not something she’d experienced before.

“Swan! I trust you slept well,” he said, handing her a mug. Her favorite mug, as usual, the yellow handmade-looking one that she used everyday, the one he discovered after that first day when she’d mentioned it offhand. Every day after that, that was the mug he would hand her as soon as she stumbled out of her room, hands rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Your breakfast is on the table,” he informed her. He looked almost as excited as she felt, and it was really cute.

He joined her a minute later, his usual place at the table passed over for the seat beside her. She tried not to let it distract her, but unfortunately the Joy Tornado was picking up speed.

There was a different ease between them, something that had been a result of their conversation the night before. She caught herself watching him in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to just twenty-four hours earlier.

They made cupcakes for some reason, maybe because they discovered there was absolutely nothing else to do, and Emma couldn’t remember a time when she laughed more.

“Swan, try this!” He called, handing her a spoon with a bit of the chocolate batter.

It was heaven, and not just because she hadn’t had cupcake batter in years. When she gave him back the spoon, he tried it himself, and she couldn’t help but watch as the dark batter touched his lips.

Once he noticed she was staring, his eyebrow did that thing again, although this time the feeling in her chest wasn’t anything related to annoyance. In fact, she found it rather alluring. “See something you like, Swan?”

“Nope, not at all,” she said, a smirk creeping onto her lips.

“You’re a terrible liar, love,”

Emma caught herself far too many times thinking things that would make old Emma puke. Although ‘old’ more meant ‘a week ago.’ But she couldn’t find herself to care one bit.

They were crafting, yes crafting, with some random supplies they found hidden away in a box shoved into a corner in one of the many closets. It was pipe cleaners and stickers and children’s glue, but it was entertaining.

They’d made it a competition, of course. Whoever made the best picture in twenty minutes won, though there was no prize other than bragging rights. So naturally, the entire twenty minutes was spent throwing insults at each other, promising that their picture would be better than the other’s.

When the buzzer went off, Emma was embarrassingly proud of her creation. It was an extremely abstract landscape that reminded her of one of the places she’d lived as a foster kid. Sure, the forest was made up of pieces of green and blue pipe cleaners, but it was the best damn thing she’d ever made.

But Killian presented his masterpiece, and she almost lost it.

It was a swan. Aboard a pirate ship. Damn him.

“I think yours is brilliant, Swan,” he said, pride in his voice.

She rolled her eyes, “You made a pirate ship, Jones. You win.”

“Well, if you insist. But I do plan on hanging both up on the fridge,” he said, and then actually got up and put them front and center, moving the magnets until they were sturdy. “There. Now, are you hungry?”

Emma spent their entire dinner trying to figure out how this man was even real. He was so considerate, and he always knew just what to say. He remembered all those little details and made her feel important. He never teased her in ways that actually inflicted any damage; it was like he knew which areas to avoid. All of this led her to one conclusion, one that she should have determined a long, long time ago: Killian wasn’t Neal.

In fact, the entire week she’d been pushing away thoughts of comparison before they could take form. When he made her hot chocolate, she’d tried not to remember how Neal could never get any of her orders right. Coffee, Chinese food, whatever, he could never get it right. Killian also never insulted the things she cared about, and took interest in the things she enjoyed. They were making the way through her rom-com collection, after all. Killian wasn’t pushy, he didn’t pry. He didn’t expect things from her that she wasn’t ready to give. It was a lot to process.

“We’re very pensive this evening, aren’t we?” Killian asked with a small smile. He too had been quiet.

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,”

“No need to apologize, Swan,” he said, and it reminded her of another reason he wasn’t Neal. Perhaps she should start making a list.

“There’s something I’d like to tell you about,” Emma began once they’d finished eating, “but I think we’re going to need something a little stronger for this conversation,” she picked up her empty wine glass in show.

Killian nodded, moving immediately to take a bottle out of the cabinet. Rum, of course.

“Last night, there was something you said,” she told him, watching as he poured the alcohol for them. “You knew I’d been hurt before, and I think you should know about it,”

“You needn’t tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, love,”

Emma sighed, “That’s the thing, I know that I can share it with you. And I want to,” he didn’t reply, which she took as a cue to continue. “I met Neal when I was seventeen. I tried to steal a car that he had already stolen,” she laughed, and he raised an eyebrow. “I lived a much different life back then. Anyway, we fell in love, or so I thought, and we were together for a while, stealing what we needed to survive, planning to run away together after we’d had enough money. But Neal wanted to steal something bigger, some expensive watches, and when he got caught, he framed me. I went to jail for his crime,”

The silence that followed her story was deafening, and she shifted uncomfortably for a moment. “So that’s why I don’t do the whole ‘trust’ thing easily. I didn’t see it coming, and I should have.”

“Don’t blame yourself for that coward’s decisions, Emma,” his voice was quiet and restrained.

“I don’t. Or, I try not to. I know now that I was just a pawn, but it took me a long time to figure it out.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, love,” he said, adding more alcohol to their glasses. “Well, while the rum is out, perhaps you’d like to hear my own depressing tale,” he joked, although his laugh wasn’t as hearty as she knew it to be.

“I met my first love, Milah, when I was a young lad. Twenty-three, actually. She was adventurous and a bit older, and I fell deeply in love. I didn’t know she had a husband and a son until almost a year later,”

“Shit,” Emma muttered, and he smiled.

“Aye, my sentiments exactly. But I was positively head over heels—young love and all that—so I stayed with her. We met in secret for a year after my little discovery, although it had really been secret the entire time. And then her husband forced her to move far away, I’m assuming he found out about me, and about six months after that, I’d heard that she had died in a car crash. I’m not sure if she ever truly loved me, or if she just saw me as some sort of rebellious freedom,” he finished.

“Aren’t we a pair,” she said after a few minutes.

“Aye, I believe we make quite the team, love,”

They ignored Emma’s movie collection and just spent the rest of the evening consuming the contents of the bottle on the table, bonding over shared (mostly heartbreaking) experiences. She knew she would regret the last few drinks in the morning, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that Emma now understood how Killian could know her so damn well.

And she couldn’t bring herself to mind at all.

As expected, a headache greeted Emma when she got up, and the light peeking in made the pounding against her skull much worse. She groaned as she pushed herself out of her bed, hoping very much that Killian wouldn’t be as chipper as he usually was in the morning.

A rather familiar green and disgusting-looking drink sat on the counter waiting for her. “Ah, the famous Jones hangover cure,” she mumbled, grabbing it and trying not to think about what she knew it contained.

“So you’ve heard of it,” Killian’s voice was much more subdued than usual.

“Yes, Liam has made it for me many times,” she explained, and he nodded thoughtfully. She downed the glass, holding her nose as she did so. “Gross,” she commented, placing the cup on the counter.

“True, but give it half an hour,” he said, turning off the stove. “I made us omelettes this morning,”

“I didn’t expect you to make breakfast...I don’t even think I could stand up for five minutes right now,”

“What can I say, I’m a creature of habit,” he grinned, handing her a plate full of food and moving towards the table to put down his own. “Besides, I very much enjoy cooking for you, Swan.”

“Why’s that?” She wondered, crossing the kitchen to place her plate directly beside his.

She looked up when he didn’t reply right away, just in time to see him reach up to scratch behind his ear, a nervous habit she’d noticed around day three. “Perhaps it’s because that was the first time I actually made you smile, that first morning,” he said quietly.

She stared at him for a moment, her brain processing his words much slower than its usual rate.

But then her lips were on his, and she couldn’t even remember actually closing the distance between them. One minute he was three feet away, the next minute, he wasn’t.

His body froze for just a fraction of a second before he responded, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair. Emma’s fingers played at the hair that rested at the nape of his neck as she stood on her toes just to be closer.

It was passionate and desperate and Emma could spend an eternity there, but before that could happen, Killian took one step to separate them. She looked at him for a moment, brow furrowed in a question.

“As much as I am enjoying this, love, and I am, I think we should stop before we take this elsewhere,”

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“I’m not interested in a one-time thing, Emma. It’s important to me that you know that,”

“Oh,” was all she could say.

“Of course I want to, believe me, love. I just...I have a history of one night stands, and I don’t want you to think that’s what this is. One night with you would certainly not be enough,”

She blinked for a second. “I don’t want this to be a one night stand, Killian. That would be really difficult to pull off, too, because we’re kind of stuck here, remember?” She joked.

He chucked. “True, very true.” He scratched behind his ear again, “I wasn’t—I’m not rejecting you, love.”

“I know, and I understand. I also have been known to have a one night stand here or there, and I agree. Maybe jumping right in wouldn’t be the best course of action, here.”

In response, Killian bent down to place a much more chaste kiss on her lips.

Emma spent the next few hours reminding herself of his words, convincing herself that he wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t rejecting her. She knew it, it made sense, yet that part of her, that annoying little voice that liked to tell her she wasn’t enough, told her that he didn’t want her. At least, the little voice had been trying to, until Killian’s actions spoke louder.

They watched a movie instead of being productive, and he very neatly tucked her into his side as soon as they sat down. She couldn’t even pay attention as Ryan Reynolds was being yelled at by Sandra Bullock, because Killian kept tracing the back of her hand with his thumb.

And then when the movie was over, he pulled her up off the couch, dragging her to the kitchen where he made her a hot chocolate. Killian found casual, normal, everyday reasons to touch her, and she loved it. It was the casual intimacy that she’d never had before, and it made her heart so full that it hurt.

“David, will you relax? We are not going to run out of toilet paper. We’re fine!” Emma tried to convince him. They’d been Skyping for about ten minutes in the living room when Killian came out of his (Liam’s) bedroom.

“I can just order you some. Right now. I’m on the site already,” David said, holding up his phone.

“We have plenty, right Killian?” She asked, and he came over to sit beside her on the couch.

“Yes, mate, we’ve got enough to last us three months if need be,” he told him.

“I told you, David. You’re so dramatic,” Mary Margaret said, but there was so much love in her voice that it was clearly not an insult.

“Yeah, you and Killian could start a club,” Emma nudged him playfully.

Killian just shook his head, grinning at her. She couldn’t help but grin back.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret called.

“Yeah?”

“This might sound crazy, but are you two…is something going on between you two?”

Emma’s eyes widened, and she looked at Killian, no idea how to reply. He just gave this little encouraging nod, and she sighed. “Fine. You caught us,”

“I knew it!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

“Okay, what? You just...started dating in the midst of a global catastrophe?” David interjected.

“It’s not like we planned it!” Emma said indignantly.

Killian beamed, “No, this was definitely not planned. Although, I couldn’t have picked a better person to be in quarantine with than you, love,”

Emma ignored Mary Margaret’s loud ‘awe’ and replied, “Damn right. You could say that we make a great quaranTeam,”

Killian pretended to be deeply offended by her terrible pun, putting a hand over his chest. “Swan, I daresay that was the worst pun I’ve ever heard,”

“What are you gonna do? Break up with me?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“I would never,” he said seriously, and it made her heart stop.

She was glad that she had an indefinite amount of time to figure that one out.

18 notes · View notes

spacehologramcollection · 6 years ago

Text

A Night in with the Kombat Kast would include;

Have some fluff and then some smut later. Because I am a smut writing goblin. Who can’t go five minutes without writing some filth. There’s a little bit of filth in here, not a lot but it is mildly, very mild, like a lemon and herb chicken from Nandos mild. But the NSFW warning will apply, 18+ sorry guys. Gifs don’t belong to me!

Sub Zero/ Kuai Liang;

· A night in for you two is like a date. It’s basically all he can manage.

· He doesn’t really like to leave the Temple unless he has to. He hates interacting with new people, large crowds and prefers peace and quiet to loud and crowded places. So anywhere like the City for date night is not happening. He would try for you he really would. But it makes him uncomfortable. That’s why you tend to stay in.

· He’d cook you something. He’s not the best but he does try. Before you two settle down and cuddle up on the couch.

· He’s such an awkward cuddlier at first, like he has no idea what to do with his hands, or where to put them at first.

· He’ll also run you a hot bath, pour you some wine and will literally let you talk about anything you want. It could be trashy work talk or about something he has no idea about; he’ll listen intently and will actually ask questions.

· He’ll let you choose whatever movie you wanted to watch, when you’re cuddled up on the couch. Pop Culture is not something he’s well versed in, he’s never seen Star Wars or anything like that. He lies to Johnny when he says he’s no time for fantasy or fiction, he’s a soft spot for it… he just doesn’t want to admit it.

· He’s totally into Game of Thrones. He attempts to ignore the mass amounts of sex and focuses more on the politics and plot lines.

· Please don’t point to the Night King and be like “It’s you, but with horns, and evil… and dead” he is not going to be happy bunny about that.

· Will also just like to sway around to music when its just the two of you.

· He doesn’t drink a lot. So, you can’t even make a joke about him cracking open a cold one with Hanzo now. He does however, have the occasional glass of wine with you, whilst you both read and cuddle up together on the sofa.

· If you paint or sew or do anything creative, he’ll literally be so intrigued with watching you do it. Will attempt to learn the skill, because a mans never too old to learn.

· He’ll love to lounge with you and hold you close. You’re amazing and he loves every moment he gets to spend with you. His Clan are important to him and he knows it’s hard to juggle a relationship and that. But he appreciates your patience and loyalty to him and therefore them, so he makes up for his lapses in spending time with you with these nights in.

Kabal;

· He gets a night in? Fuck yes. First thing he does, jumps in the shower, doesn’t fucking matter if you’re in there, he’s joining you. He needs to shower ASAP and get in his jim-jams, because he’s had a hard day okay? He’s bullshitting you, he spent most of it making paper planes and throwing them. But still, he’s had a hard day of putting up with Kano.

· By Jim Jams, he means a pair of joggers and no shirt. Will literally lounge there in nothing else. He needs to answer the door, hope whoever’s knocking doesn’t mind seeing his nipples. Because he sure as hell doesn’t care. It’s not a bad sight for you at all, no complaints from you, since he’ll throw you the t-shirt he should be wearing.

· Obviously after his accident, he’ll take the t-shirt and try and keep well covered up. You can occasionally convince him to return to his, night time, nip nops out time. With the promise of a massage or you batting your eyelashes asking for his shirt.

· He doesn’t cook, he burns things, but he doesn’t cook. It’s just easier if you order in, you get to choose because he’ll literally eat anything. Wherever you decide to order from he’ll find something to eat from it.

· Doesn’t drink a lot but does enjoy having a drink or two when he can relax. Will go through the recordings to see what TV he has to catch up on. Will get insulted and be betrayed, if he finds you’ve watched one your shows without him. The lies and deceit are tearing this relationship apart.

· Will let you sit on his lap all night or lounge on him. He’ll let you basically use him as a human chair. As long as you’re close to him he doesn’t care.

· His phone is getting muted. He’ll take a cute selfie with you, send it, and warn people you have his full attention. Will literally look at it when getting a call, watch it ring, and then just do nothing. It’s his me and your time, and nothing is going to ruin that.

· He’ll pick a movie out for you both to watch. It’ll either end in you two making out during it and having to go finish it off in the bedroom. Or he will fall asleep and end up trapping you in a vice like grip. He’s a lazy little shit at times.

· You’ve made a drinking game out of Johnny’s movies, you always end up absolutely smashed and singing Piano man at the top of your lungs. It’s fucking beautiful. The apartment block is alive with the sound of music.

· Playing video games drunk. You know he’d troll on WOW or something.

· Mario Kart when drunks. He’s the type of dick to always choose Rainbow road, whilst you’re arse over tit drunk. Fucking disaster boy.

· Sometimes, especially after his accident, he can’t sleep so you’ll stay awake talking about absolute shit. Like if aliens exist, if you had to, which cryptid you’d rather fuck. Just absolute shit till 3 in the morning.

· Times like this, you end up making like box cake mix and eating it whilst in your underwear. Because height of classiness.

· You’ll also piss his neighbours off playing loud, obnoxious music till stupid O’clock. And dancing around like a bunch of idiots.

· After his accident, he’ll still do this, it makes him feel normal being a bit of a cunt again to be fair. He’s a bit smug, because his neighbours dare not complain, because he you know, got burnt to a crisp. And don’t wanna tell you guys to turn it down. You party on, you funky little crispy man.

Scorpion/ Hanzo Hasashi;

· Like Sub, nights in tend to be your date nights and become a default for you two spending time together. Except, he’s a much better cook and a little bit less awkward. He’s got some experience with dating. Not a lot but still more than his icy bro.

· He’ll definitely cook for you, whatever you want, he will make you. You end up doing it together and bonding over it.

· You’ll also take a nice warm bath together, both of you unwinding together and letting all the stress melt away with the steam. He’s a sucker for a bath bomb too. Just no glitter. He cannot cope with the glitter in his hair.

· Speaking of hair, he has to brush his religiously or it will get tangled. And he has to wear it up most of the time, because it’s actually pretty long.

· Is down for just talking and listening to music. Or maybe playing chess, he sometimes lets you win, but not always.

· He’ll also take moments like this, to try and teach you a bit of Japanese if you’re willing to learn. Or he’ll teach you more about his culture. It’s a chance for you two to be intimate and close, so what better moment to share personal things.

· He’ll also talk to you about the future more than the past. You’ll plan your life together, like what you want to call your kids, first, middle and second middle names. Also, where you’d ideally live.

· He smiles a lot on these nights in, because its just the two of you and he loves it. He loves you.

· Candle light. And Candle light only. Sure, there’s actual lights but it just seems more intimate and cooler with candles. Fucking wax everywhere though.

· He’s more receptive of pop culture than Sub. Just don’t put on reality TV, he cannot fucking cope with that. He would be a massive fan of Star Wars. And you fucking know it. He loves that Space Bullshit that makes his life seem simple.

· You’ll also be able to lounge on him, he loves it when your head is on his lap and he can play with your hair.

· Such a softie. Just a man who needs a hug and a hot chocolate with marshmallows in.

Erron Black;

· Nights in are rare and not something he’s overly fond of. He loves to be outside, doing things and pretty active. But, he doesn’t mind the occasional night in with you. Gotta relax the old bones, you know.

· He’s got a fair amount of stories and he’s ready to share them with you. Sexual, none-sexual it doesn’t fucking matter. He’ll tell you anything and everything you wanna know. He’s lived a full life and has seen some shit.

· He’s partial to a hard drink, like strong sipping whisky. So he’ll love to sip that whilst watching you, do your thing. Whatever it is, whether it be painting, sewing, reading or hell even writing smut. I say this to validate myself.

· He doesn’t read, he doesn’t have the patience or time. Instead, he’d be down for playing a game of cards. Doesn’t matter if its strip poker or just poker. He is down for it.

· If he’s still slumming it with the Black Dragon, you’ll get to do a lot more on your nights in, in comparison to if he’s in Outworld. If you’re in Outworld, there’s a chance Ermac may just float into the room. It’s weird, just don’t even ask.

· In his Black Dragon days, he’d be down for watching a film, A western obviously. Just so he can tell you how accurate/inaccurate it is. Or how nobody actually talks like that, whilst talking exactly like that.

· Will let you play dress up with his clothes. He thinks it’s cute and loves how everything hangs off you yet is tight in all the right places. Spot on.

· If you’re in Outworld, he’ll take this opportunity to teach you to shoot, how to use explosives and how to come up with a bad ass sass.

· He’d be a sucker if you cook for him on your night in. A dish from Texas would make his heart melt for you and make the night 110% better for him. Like it just brings back memories and he loves it.

· Nights in with him are pretty tame compared to your nights out.

786 notes · View notes

blkmxrvel · 6 years ago

Text

Match Made in (Chocolate) Heaven

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Words: 5k

Request: Can I request a Nat/Reader smut for your Valentines Day drabble requests? Perhaps involving chocolate?

Summary: It's Valentine's day, a day of love and adventures for you and your wife.

Warnings: 18+; SMUT (oral, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dirty talk)

A/N: This is literally the filthiest thing I have ever wrote. I wasn't able to recover the Valentine's day imagines so I'm just rewriting them, slowly but surely. I didn't edit this, my senses couldn't handle it i- enjoy.

You were sitting on the balcony, clad in a silver dress that hugged you and all the right places, and a pleasant smile on your face. Your wife was right across from you, red hair lightly tumbling in the wind. Soft jazz played in the background, while you two just sat there, taking in everything. It was Valentine’s day, and while neither of you went all out on the day of love, you never missed a chance to appreciate each other a little bit more. You basked in the warm, cuddly, air that rarely surrounded you.

You felt a warm hand cover your own, causing you to snap back into reality, eyes facing your love.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby?” Natasha’s thumb soothed over the back of your hand, sending a warm tingle straight down your spine. You smiled, turning your hand in hers so that you were holding it.

You shrugged. “Nothing, I’m just so happy. Who would have ever thought that we made it this far? We made it past every single possible thing that could ever happen. So many world-ending events, but yet here you are. You look the exact same as when I first saw you, if not even more breathtaking.”

Natasha blushed. She let her hair fall right into her face, leg swinging over to tap yours lightly. “I thought you weren’t gonna go soft on me.” She lifted her head up, smiling while she scanned your delicate features.

“I can’t help it,” you confessed, standing up to bring your plat back into the kitchen. “There’s something about this day that just makes me realize how much I love you, and how much I never want to lose you.” You turned around and leaned your back against the counter, facing the balcony door. There was a smile on your face, a love that weighed your heart heavy.

Natasha made her way towards you, and you couldn’t help but rake your eyes over her figure: tall and lean, covered with a skin tight black dress. Her hips and legs were on full display, her amber red hair bouncing as she stepped. You loved this woman, with your entire being.

“Excuses, excuses.” She mocked. She placed her plate in the sink before coming up towards you, her tall figure looming over your short one. “I saw the way you were looking at me. You only want me because of my body.” She wrapped her arms around your middle, causing your hands to be placed on her taut stomach.

“Don’t get me wrong, your body is the best thing I have ever seen. Like Jesus Christ,” you chuckled with wide eyes, another tingle running down your back. “But you really are the love of my life, Nat. I love every single things about you. There isn’t anything about you that I don’t want to be apart of.”

Your eyes bored into hers, head tilted and heart racing. You allowed Nat to search you, just as you were doing to her. “I don’t deserve you, baby.” Her arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against her. You’ve stuck with me all these years, through the good and bads, the ups and the downs, the wins and the losses; you were always here for me. I love you so, so much.”

At that, you felt her lips crash against yours. You let out a moan of surprise, only causing her to hold you even tighter (not that you were complaining).

You saw this coming, you’d hoped it would come. You wrapped your arms around her neck, allowing her to lift you up onto the counter. She pushed herself into you, her tongue dominantly roaming inside your mouth, her hands softly caressing your thighs.

The kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced before. Usually, when high emotional moments presented themselves, it was followed by a few rounds of intense sex. You wouldn’t call it bad thing, but if Natasha could always kiss you like this, you definitely didn’t want to go back.

This kiss wasn’t filled with the sole purpose of using an orgams to hide the pain, no; the kiss was slow, loving, gentle, like she wanted to take her time exploring you and making you fall apart. Natasha wasn’t the best with words. She could say a few things without having an emotional breakdown, but for the most part, she was all about actions.

And boy, do actions speak louder than words

You could tell by the way she pressed heavy, wet kisses along your neck that she wanted to make sure you knew how much she loved you. You knew that from the light moans falling from her lips, and the curve of a smile against your skin, that she wanted to love all of you, every single part.

Your wife trailed her hands up your back, her lips never leaving your heaving chest, and unzipped your bra. Her cold hands smoothing down your back, swiftly unclipping your bra before continuing it’s trail made you shiver in all the best ways. She pushed both articles of clothing down to your waist, carefully coming to rest one hand on your stomach, the other on your hip.

You had a love hate relationship with how Natasha needed to do near to nothing to make you a whining mess under her. You felt her lips kiss in-between your breasts, a swift intake of air form you making her stop.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes looked up at your for once. She had a concerned look on her face, moving her hands away from your body. You quickly placed yours on top of them, clearly liking the touch.

Your eyes were glazed with love, though wide and shocked. It amazed you that after being together for 10 years, married for 5, that Natasha had the decency to make sure you were comfortable.

“We can stop if you’re not.” She rushed, standing up fully. “We can change, cuddle and just watch TV, it’s not a big de-.”

“Baby.” You said curtly (and soft). Your hands held her cheeks, giving her no option but to look into your eyes. “I’m okay.” Natasha stared into your eyes, still not convinced.

“Are you sure? Is it the setting? I know we’ve never had sex in the kitchen so we can go into the bed-”

“Nat!” You laughed, bringing her face towards yours, kissing her nose. “I promise you I’m fine. We can stay here, I like new, okay?” She nodded her head, her hands coming up to cover yours, smiling.”

“Okay.”

You nodded and smiled. “Good.” You swallowed harshly, the familiar jolt running through you. “Just love me, baby. You always do it so well.”

You saw Natasha’s eyes darken, before lightly gripping your hips and kissing you again. You moaned a little louder, still in shock of how soft she could be with you.

You held onto her cheeks, using them as leverage to push yourself into her. You didn’t register her hands moving upward, until her icy fingers came up make themselves home against your breasts. A pleasurable sigh came from your mouth, going right into your wife's’.

She didn’t stop kissing you as she massaged them, groaning into your mouth at how well they fit her hands. Her thumbs swiped over your nipples, alternating up and down, give your core a real run for its’ money. You squealed in surprise as she took hold on your nipples, twisting them slowly between her fingers. You let your head fall back; Natasha didn’t miss a beat, her lips trailing down to replace her hands, softly running her tongue over your hardened nipples.

“That feel good?” She asked, noticing the way that your body stiffened. She knew your heart was beating harder than ever, feeling it pulse through her mouth.

You did your best to let out a weak nod, fingers tangling in her red hair. “So, so good. Don’t stop.” You allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

You had a love-hate relationship with the way Natasha made you feel. She could easily turn you into putty under her without doing much work. It was clear as day now, the way wordless mumbles of pleasure kept falling from your mouth with every swipe of her tongue against your chest. It was inevitable, the way your hips pushed into your wife without any say from you, the pleasure building up within you.

Natasha bit harshly on your chest, causing you to cry out in pain, but moan in pleasure. She sucked on that same spot, bringing her hands up cup your ass before soothing her tongue over it. Her hands brought you more into her, you arching your back at the warmth and comfort that surrounded you.

She did this a few more times, before trailing her way down your stomach. You gasped at the cold marble that touched your back when she guided you to lay down, her eyes staring up at you.

“Please, baby.” You panted, your voice dripping with a mixture of desperation and frustration. The throbbing at your core was relentless, your panties constantly shifting with how wet you are. “I need you.”

Natasha hummed lightly before nodding, wet kisses finally reaching your belly button. She reached down, tugging your bra, dress and underwear down in one fell swoop, tossing them haphazardly across the kitchen.

You let out a sigh of relief, the cool air against your hot core. Natasha stood in-between your spread legs and hands running up and down the tops of your thighs. She took all of you in, her eyes never staying on one spot of your body.

Moments like this were rare, where she got to just admiring you, the love of her life. So she definitely took her time with you. She let her eyes trail from your soft, creamy stomach, her hands guiding her eyes. She rubbed her thumbs over your sides before coming up and taking light hold of your breasts. Stiff peaks stared up at her, rising and falling with every lustful breath you took. She let her gaze run over your neck, then your chest, smirking at the bruises that had already formed. Your face that the last thing her eyes took in, and she had never smiled so wide. There was something about the way your swollen lips were slightly parted and the way your eyes were wide and attentive, staring back at her, that made her heart clench. She smiled her widest.

“What?” Another breath forcefully leaving your mouth. She looked at you before shaking her head, her lips going back to work on your abdomen.

“Nothing.” Her words were mumbled by your skin, her lips leaving a wet trail from your belly button, back through the valley of your chest, up to your soft lips, where they molded perfectly. “You’re just so beautiful, and I’m so happy to call you my wife. I love you.”

“I love you, more.” You both smiled into the kiss, your hands on her cheeks. You stayed like that for a moment, serene and content, with the soft music playing and the comfort of each other surrounding you. “Mrs and Mrs Romanoff has a nice ring to it.” She laughed against your lips

You broke the kiss. “I wanna try something.” Her eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“What?”

You bit your lip, nerves and anticipation running through you.

“Well, since we’re trying new things today.” You motioned to your setting. “I figured.. we could introduce something new.”

Natasha tilted her head. “And that is..?”

“Chocolate sauce.” Her eyes widened in surprise but you kept talking. “And before you say anything you told me you wanted to try a food. You always said you wanted to lick something off of me and whipped cream is definitely a no, so why not chocolate.” You shrugged, your eyes nowhere near your love’s.

“Let’s do it.” Natasha stood up, walking over to the cabinet, grabbing a heavy bottle of Hershey’s chocolate sauce. Your eyebrows rose at her.

“It’s that easy?” Natasha chuckled, flipping open the cap and pouring some on her finger.

“When has it ever not been that easy? A lifetime of adventures is what I promised at the altar, princess. I’m not gonna give it up now.” She stuck her chocolate covered finger into her mouth, nodding her head in approval of the taste. “Plus this stuff tastes great, you taste great, you really can’t go wrong with this combination.”

You giggled, loving how dorky she could be at a time like this. “Well I’m glad you think that. You can put that where ever you want it.”

“Anywhere?” Her eyes lit up.

“Okay, maybe not anywhere, I don’t want a yeast infection. So not inside of me or anywhere near that...area.” Natasha smiled amusingly.

“It’s okay to say pussy, babe. We’ve been together long enough.” You kicked her leg and rolled your eyes, resulting in a laugh from and a smile from you.

“Shut up. Are you gonna pour it on me or not?” You didn’t have to tell her twice. She gave you a warning before squeezing the chocolate in a straight light up your stomach. You gasped at the coldness, she gasped at how hot you looked.

Very few words were exchanged before her hot tongue licked a burning path up your stomach. She moaned at the sweet and salty taste of your skin and the chocolate mixing together. It was her new favorite flavor.

“Fuck.” She said while gripping your hips. “That was hot.” She grabbed the bottle again, squeezing more chocolate on your breasts. You breathed in anticipation, but nothing could prepare you for the urgency of how Natasha wrapped her lips around you. Your head flew back at the way she sucked and licked the chocolate off of you, fully getting lost in the way her never wanted to feel your nipples get soft again. She did it against with your other one, moaning loudly and she trailed kisses around your chest.

“I’m never going to get enough of you.” She said as she squeezed more onto your neck, her lips already going to work on your neck. Your hands came up to tangle themselves in Nat’s hair once again, pushing your head closer to you.

“Never.” You moaned out as she made her way north. “Ever.” She pressed her lips into yours and you gasped at the roughness. You hands pulled tighter in her hair as she swirled her tongue around yours, letting you get a full taste of you mixed with chocolate.

“That’s great, Nat. But I am five seconds away from combusting in horniness so please fuck me already.” You whined out. Natasha only smirked at you while spreading your legs apart. She came down face to face with your center, resting her head on your thigh.

“I will, don’t worry baby.” Her hand reached for the bottle again and you rolled your eyes inwardly. You were starting to regret ever introducing this idea.

Your regrets started to pass however, when you felt chocolate being pour along your thighs. You moaned, you knew what she about about to do. Your assumptions were proven right when her tongue darted out to lick along the expanse of your thigh, not leaving a drop of chocolate in its’ wake.

She licked slowly, tantalizingly up your thigh, making your breath in when she had gotten closer to where you wanted her the most. You groaned when her tongue stopped right at the apex of your thighs. You were so close.

“Good things come to those who wait, Y/N.” She lifted up her head, dark eyes staring into yours. “And you’ve been very patience for me.” Your pussy throbbed at her words, head falling back when you felt her thumbs spread your folds open.

With her eyes now fixated on your center, she felt herself getting wet. You were dripping, arousal practically gushing out when her lips came to press to your center. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Fuck.” Your hips went on their own accord, chasing Natasha's face as she pulled away. Her fingers continued their probing, spreading your folds, massaging you in all the best ways. It was like Natasha was searching for something and made sure you felt good while she was doing it.

“There it is.” Her fingers were more up north, moving your skin around to fully expose your clit. She ran her thumb across your clit, involuntarily making your hips jerk up, a languid moan falling from your mouth.

“Look at how swollen for me you are, baby.” Her voice dropped a few octaves, nothing but rasp and lust. To say you were wet was an understatement.

She started placing kissing around your center, starting at your mound, before working her way to where your thighs and core meet. She moaned as she went, loving the way your need moans drowned out the music.

She licked a path from your entrance to your clit, making sure to put extra pressure on the latter. Your hands found themselves home in Natasha's hair again, tugging her into you again.

“Do it again. Please, please do it again.” Natasha gave into your wishes, her tongue doing the same thing, but this time, moving sideways before her lips came and wrapped around your clit. She sucked fiercely for a few seconds, her tongue never stopping their movements.

Your hands gripped tighter, if it was even possible. You tensed up and arched your body, a sudden reaction of the white heat that flooded your body.

“Oh… Keep doing that.” Natasha let her lips linger around your clit for a bit longer, eventually letting go. She ran your tongue up and down your slit. She traced everything she could think of: her name, the alphabet, anything that would keep your body jerking under her.

When you felt the warm heat of your wife's mouth, you swear you wanted to commit murder. “Why. Did you. Stop?” You panted, sitting up on your elbows and staring down at her. “How could you do this to me on Valentine's day?”

Natasha let your words go through one ear and out the other. She focused on your physical features, all of them.

“You're so beautiful, baby. You know that right?” Her fingers went back to playing in your slit, causing your middle to contract involuntarily.

You let out a deep sigh. “Not really, but hearing you say it helps.” Natasha smiled up at you.

“You really are so breathtaking, my love. All of

you: your eyes that I could look into for days, your nose that scrunches up so perfectly, your plump and kissable lips, your breasts that I can never stop touching, your stomach that I love hugging whenever I've had a bad day, your thighs that wrap around when you've had a bad day.” Natasha switched back to pressing kisses to your pussy. They weren't enough to jerk your body, only enough to keep your temporarily sated.

“Everything about you is absolutely ravishing, baby. But you wanna know what one of my favorite things about you are, especially on days like this?” The vibration of her mouth almost made you tilt your head back, almost.

“What?” Your voice was light, raspy, desperate; all things that made Natasha groan in delight.

“This little beauty right here, it's like my second home.” Her thumb rubbed slow, tight circles around your slit, inviting the buck and roll of your hips. “How wet you get for me, the way you smell, the way you taste, and my favorite of all,”

Your eyes widened and a silent scream tore through your throat at the feeling of Natasha's finger sheathing into you.

“how tight and warm you always are. Even after hours of me stretching you out and fucking you senseless, making you lose your breath, pounding you until you can't walk making sure the neighbors know who's making you feel so good,” Her fingers massaged your walls, twisting and turning inside or you. “i can come back the next day, and your pussy is just as good as new. It's just as tight and as wet, if not even more.”

You moaned at her words, a ghost of a smile on your lips. “It's all for you, my baby. You do this to me, only you.”

“Rightfully so.” She smirked and you groaned as she came up your body, kissing you softly and noticing how… bland your lips tasted.

“Nat, what the fuck, babe?”

She smirked before grabbing the Hershey's bottle yet again. She squirted a considerable amount on two of her fingers. She held them to your lips.

You thought you knew what she was doing, but you weren't too sure. It wasn't until she gripped your grin and tugged slightly, that your assumptions were confirmed.

Her fingers pushed passed your lips, immediately finding comfortable in your warm mouth. She stared at your lips, her tongue coming out to lick at her own. Your tongue moved against her fingers slowly as she took in a sharp breath, trying her hardest not to moan.

She retracted her fingers— this time she didn't hold back the groan that left her mouth— watching as trail of saliva followed. She ran her thumb up and around your thick and parted lips, revelling in how soft they were.

She murmured to no one in particular. “Your lips always look so pretty wrapped around my fingers. So fucking sexy.” She didn't even let you get a word in, before she kissed you again. You recognized this Natasha: intense, passionate and unfiltered.

Your hips met hers, you pushing up into her repeatedly. You didn't even bother caring about how needy you looked, you needed her, and you didn't care how you looked trying to get her to.

“Nat… Baby, please.” You whimpered. “I can't take it anymore, I need you to fuck me.”

Natasha poured more chocolate on her finger, smearing it across your lips, before kissing down your neck.

“You want me to make you come hard?” You could've smacked yourself at how pathetic you looked, vigorously nodding your head.

“Yes, so, so hard. Please.” Your eyes closed once again as she kissed down your stomach. “Please.”

Finally making her way down to your center, she pushed her finger back into your mouth.

“Show me what you want me to do baby. Be a good girl and show me how you want me to make you cum.”

You moaned around her fingers, your hand gripping hers as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Can you do that for me, princess?” Natasha allowed you to answer with just a nod, taking pity on your current state. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, clit drumming hard against Natasha's tongue. And she had never seen you wetter, a literal pool around your ass.

“Good.” Natasha ran her tongue up and the expanse of your folds. As soon as her tongue reached the underside of your clit, you sucked on her fingers with a fervor Natasha has never seen before. No longer teasing you to death, she mirrored your actions, her lips surrounding her clit.

She felt it swell a little bit more inside her mouth, and she couldn't help but let the moan out. The vibrations sent you back into the perfect bow. Your hand tightened around Natasha's as your swirled your tongue around her fingers in random patterns.

Natasha did the same on your clit, just faster. Her speed began increasing, you let her hand fall from your mouth, your own grabbing your own breasts for leverage.

“Fuck, fuck, I'm so close.” You let out the loudest moans in all of your lifetime. You could feel your wetness steadying running out of you, having no choice but to grind your face up into your wife's mouth. “I swear to God, Natasha. If you stop…”

“Don't worry, I'm just getting started. Her lips released your clit, resorting to letting her tongue draw the dirtiest of mumbles out of your mouth.

“Don't even think about covering your mouth.” Natasha demanded. She knew how loud you usually were, and this was a sharp contrast. “I wanna hear you scream for me.”

You were speechless, you only knew how to moan and bring Natasha's face closer to you.

She chuckled around your clit, biting lightly. You pulled away on instinct, but found Natasha's hands firmly wrapped around your thighs, not letting you go anywhere.

“Where do you think you're going, princess? You said you wanted to come hard right? Don't run from it.” want to feel you come in my mouth. I want to see your body thrash around, helpless under my tongue as I make you come again and again.”

“I can't. It's too much.” Natasha shook her head against you, her nose rubbing over your clit.

“You can do it, baby. I know you can, I know you want to. Do it for me.” She pulled you into her more, feeling your tighten around her tongue.

She curled it, shaking her head even faster before moving her tongue back to your clit. You could barely handle the stimulation, your body trying–and failing thanks to Nat– to move your hips. You weren't complaining, though.

Her lips sucked on your clit like never before, almost like she was trying to suck the soul out of you. Her tongue played with your clit with no restraint, assault heavy.

“I- I can't do it, Nat. It's soooo much.” Your hands gripped at the edges of the counter, your body slightly convulsing.

“Look at me, baby.” You managed to hoist yourself up on your elbows, half lidded eyes staring at her. The feeling was starting to grow a light heat washing over you. Natasha never lifted her head from against you.

“I love you, and I'm right here. Just keep looking at me. You can do it, my love. Please come for me, good girl.” She managed to suck harder if that was even possible.

The heat attacked your entire body, starting in your core and making its way to your limbs, your toes curling. Your eyes stayed locked on Natasha's, despite how bad you wanted to look away. She never stopped moving her tongue against you.

“Oh fuck, I-” You didn't know what was happening. This never happened, your breath got heavier and your senses were overloaded.

The heat continued to spread, and then it just stopped. Out of nowhere, your body tightened like a fork, your eyes squeezing shut and your body retching forward before arching back again. You weren't in control, the spasming happened when you least expected.

Natasha didn't let up her assault. She only stared up at you, moaning against, loving the taste of you flooding into her mouth.

“Nat, what are you-” You nearly screamed out, your hips jerked uncontrollably. Your hands now gripped your own hair staring down at your girlfriend like she was mad woman. You were incredibly sensitive.

“I said over and over again. I want at least three out of you.” She said shortly, not wasting any time getting back to eating you out.

“No, Nat I-” You didn't have time to respond before you felt her fingers enter you once and again, the three of them unrelenting against your already sensitive hole. Your head flew back again, too consumed in pleasure to argue. Your brain was cloudy again and you couldn't form words, at least not once that indicated anything other than how good your wife was fucking you.

You didn't get a warning this time, your second orgasm hit you again, a scream tearing through your. Natasha let go of your clit, kissing up your body. She wrapped a hand around your back, lightly sitting you up. Her fingers sped up, curling and pounding into you harder.

You took a hold of her face, took much pleasure flooding your senses to kiss her. You just stared at her, tears of pleasure falling from your eyes, cries and moans from her mouth.

“I can't do another. I'm going to die.” Natasha smiled lightly at your melodramatics, still not stopping her fingers. It felt like a dam of pleasure was building at your core, and Natasha was doing everything in her power to let it overflow.

“This is the last one, I promise. I just wanna see your pretty face this time.” She felt you clenching against her walls.

"Look at me, Y/N." Your eyes snapped to hers.

Tears were falling steadily now, the over-stimulation really starting to mess with you. The dam was at its breaking point, and with just a mere swipe of her thumb over your clit, Natasha let it snap.

You aren't really sure what happened, you make have blacked out. You were sure, however, that a orgasm provoking scream tore through your throat, you gripping onto Natasha's shoulder. It quite literally felt like a dam had been broken inside of you.

Natasha slower her fingers, waiting until your eyes were opened again to stick her glistening fingers in her mouth moaning at your taste.

You stared at Natasha, willing yourself not to get turned on again (thankfully, you did not). You pulled her fingers out her mouth and placed them inside of yours. Natasha groaned again, reaching behind you to grab the bottle for the last time.

She squeezed some into her mouth, before connecting her lips with you more soft than necessary. She swirled her tongue around yours, the two of you moaning. When you pulled away, you instantly let yourself fall into her arms. There was no way you were going to be able to walk to your room, and sleeping on the kitchen counter didn't seem too comfortable.

"Good girl. You did so good, love." Natasha's hands swept your hair out of your face, placing kisses softly around it. You smiled into her neck, feeling her lift you up and carry you into your room.

Your head rested on her chest when she laid you down. Your eyes were half way open, arms wrapped around your love as you uttered the first comprehensible thing in a while.

“You were right. The taste and chocolate are a great combination. Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I love you.”

You didn't hear Natasha tell you that she loved you back, you could only feel her hands stroking your hair and the warmth radiated from the two of you.

#wlw imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel imagine #natasha x reader #valentines fic #marvel x reader #wlw imagines #wlw fanfic #iconicwlw

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