#but by god! it’s working! somebody give that intern a raise!

[opidiod]

I’m sorry this is the funniest thing i’ve ever seen because sir… sir i hate to break it to you… but i am actually being pandered to with this very post and unfortunately it’s working!

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 13, In Which Your Father Hangs Himself

AO3

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter deals with suicide and this is NOT the last time this work will feature suicide in graphic detail. Other warnings include: prostitution, sexual aggression / assault, xenophobia, toxic relationships.  

This is chapter from Raul's POV. This got too large for Tumblr so I will only leave the first scene here.

****

"Tell them to go to hell," your father said.

He wasn't even looking at you - he was looking at the fireplace, slumped in his chair, his hand rubbing Bella - his favourite cane corso, a beast of a dog, who lay at his feet with her heavy belly full of pups. She bared her teeth at you when you tried to approach, so you kept your distance. 

"Papa, I obviously cannot do that," you said.

He was in one of his moods, you could see that. 

One of those days he thought he had the holy right to make other people’s day hell. 

"Why not?"

You drew in a sharp breath before answering, "Because today is your eightieth birthday. Because everyone's here to celebrate. The house is more crowded than St Peter’s on Easter Sunday. Because the Prime Minister herself has just..."

He cut you off mid-sentence with a raised hand. "I'm not in the mood for a party. You deal with it, Raul".

Two months of preparation, in which you had to get personally involved because of the announcement he was hinting at. A public announcement he should damn well should make, because he clearly couldn't run Avernus anymore.

"Are you deliberately embarrassing me in front of all these people?" you said. 

"You're embarrassing yourself in front of these people, Raul”, he answered and made a grating initiation of somebody else’ voice, because you surely don’t sound like that. “Oh no, what if they don't like me, what if they think less of me, oh no, oh no. You always worried too much about what people thought of you. They should worry about what you think of them, if you ever wish to amount to anything”.

Merda! You should have known better than to return to Napoli for this farce.

"Ah, forget it. No matter what I do, you will find something to criticise."

Finally, your father looked at you. You took after him in appearance, or so they said; you barely remembered your mother anyway to cross-check. That’s what another thirty years will do to you; grey out your black hair, bloat your jawline, steal your muscles and mark your face with age spots.

There was not so much time left. For him, even less.

God willing.

"No matter what you do? You do nothing," he stated, a look of genuine surprise on his face. "What exactly do you do?"

Don’t answer. Don’t… you… bloody…

"I run an international law firm!”, you exploded. “I employ thirty thousand people worldwide... and I built it from scratch! I own estates EVERYWHERE! PRIVATE JETS! ALL WITHOUT YOUR HELP!" 

He scoffed and looked back at the flames. That was a special talent of his; reducing you to a raging mess while he remained an epitome of calmness.

"He has private jets, look at him. Without my help you'd be making pizzas for tourists, Raul."

This was pointless. It had always been pointless.

What had you ever hoped for? Did you truly think there would be something to make this man proud or happy?

"What did you expect from me?”, you asked. “What was I supposed to achieve to make you proud?!"

"Something that matters", your father shrugged. 

"And what's that supposed to mean? WHAT MATTERS TO YOU?"

"Legacy matters" he said, patting Bella's head. "Isn't that right, Bella? My sweet girl gives me at least five quality cubs every year. Did you know her last litter won Italy’s top prize? That's a good girl.” Then he turned his gaze back to you. "Not like those scrawny things you've been chasing since school. All this whoring, all this sin, and not even a single bastard to show for it".

Bella stuck her tongue out and panted, looking up at your father with sheer devotion. For a fleeting moment, you thought of putting a bullet in his head, and then in hers.

"You can't be serious. You know very well how hard I tried..."

"Obviously not hard enough," he said. "Here I am at eighty, and what legacy do I leave? For whom? Generations before you had given everything, sacrificed everything, everything, and for whom, for whose future? Who will inherit this country? The Muslims?"

He spat on the floor.

"I'll tell you who will inherit my fortune," he continued. "The Church. At least they have the decency to remember who we once were. What we fought for. What we dreamed of building. A nation of pride and ambition and honour. But you, Raul? You fled your home to where the money was and sold your soul to the golden calf”. 

What? No way. Not to the Church. The old man is getting dementia, he is incoherent. That's it, that's what's happening: your father is going senile.

"That's enough," you finally manage to say through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to this madness any longer. I have too much dignity for that."

“You wouldn’t know dignity if it hit you in the face,” he said. "Maybe my mistake was loving you too much. Spoiling you rotten. Poor boy, he lost his mother so early."

You bristled at his words, but refused to let him have the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you turned on your heel to leave, only to collide with that damned bronze monstrosity.

That thing - the statue that haunted your childhood nightmares; always guarding the door, ensuring no one dared disturb the man who loathed disturbances - Mephistopheles as depicted by Jacques Louis Gautier.

"I swear to God," you seethed. "That damned statue... I've hated it my whole life. The minute you're in the ground, I'm smashing it into dust."

"It serves its purpose," he replied coolly. "Reminding me of my failures when your presence is not enough”.

You paused at the door, deciding that today was the last day you would ever try for him. 

Avernus Capital wasn't worth it. 

Nothing was worth it.

"You know what, Papa?" You asked, struggling to keep your voice as calm and composed as you father’s, "I hope it's your last birthday."

You were hoping for a reaction. But just like always, he failed to deliver what you hoped for. 

He offered none; even the shrug he gave was half-hearted. Bella fell asleep despite all the commotion; her head resting on your father’s shoe.

"Keep hoping," he said. "I plan on living until I'm a hundred and fifty, and then some."

[lunarsilkscreen]

Criminalization of Human Urges

This is literally going to be about Sex, Women's Reproductive Rights and Birth Control.

If a person was starving; would you imprison them for sating their hunger? Or if they were thirsty and dehydrated, would imprison them for slaking their thirst?

Highly religious people always go to this weird place that everybody has it in them to be like Ghandi, and just never masturbate, never give in to their urges, etc...

Look, I'm not saying Men should give in to their urges and Rape every chance they get. We have the word "Blueballed" for a reason.

Consent matters.

But when two people are in a state of thirst, and they thirst for each other; they're going to slake it.

IN FACT! Being able to walk away as the Christ or Ghandi is literally a symptom of being on the autism spectrum.

It's the core joke in the high functioning Autism boards AND the aro/ace(aromatic/asexual) boards that "I would rather play Legos with somebody than have sex on a first date."

I know "Playing Legos" *sounds* like it could be double entendre; but I ensure you. It's meant literally

And while I was raised Christian, and have internalized the "Don't have sex ever cause getting somebody pregnant is the devil's work" Most religious people haven't even done that.

That's why God invented Condoms.

Because he was the one who gave humans their urges in the first place.

And so if you want to be super religious "no sex unless you're married and want to have kids" argument because Abraham said Soo....

We must also consider human urges and what happens if a spark happens betwixt two people.

If God designed human to starve; he wouldn't make them hunger.

And so; I believe, that our society's laws should reflect this and provide avenues for this logical outcome.

Not everyone is pious enough to abstain for a lifetime, and so we shouldn't expect them to be. Otherwise it's a criminalization of simply being alive and human.

We logically know that people under a certain age, have an impulse control less than their urges. Especially, if put at an extreme.

And again; I'm not saying we shouldn't also teach abstinence. But at the same time; we shouldn't condemn people for shaking what their God hath gave them.

[dailyaudiobible]

1/14/2023 DAB Transcript

Genesis 30:1-31:16, Matthew 10:1-23, Psalm 12:1-8, Proverbs 3:13-15

Today is the 14th day of January, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It is great to be here with you on the 14th day of January, that's the 14th day of our new year. This marks two full weeks that we have been able to live into this new year. And as we complete our reading for today, we’ll complete two weeks every day in the Bible. We are off to a fantastic start. Now when we go to the back of the ship and look back at where we've sailed from, we can barely see the land on the horizon. We are getting out into the deep and we will be sailing across this year together. But two weeks in, so much as happened, so much for us to think about, so much for us to allow to be brought up in our lives, as we move through the stories that are found in the Scriptures. And so, it's great to mark this moment, two weeks, two weeks in, well done. We can do this, we’re gonna do this and it's gonna be awesome. So, let's dive in and take the next step forward. We've been reading from the New International Version this week, which is still this week, so that's what will continue to do today. We are still working our way through the book of Genesis; we have found ourselves in the story of Jacob. So, we went through the story of Abraham and Isaac and now Jacob. Who has found himself married to two women who are sisters. One is barren, the other one has had some children, a family is in formation, this family will be the family that we follow through the rest of the Bible. And so, let's dive in, Genesis chapter 30 verse 1 through 31 verse 16.

Commentary:

Okay so, as we complete our second full week in this year and in the Scriptures together; we continue to see the family drama in Jacob's life. Jacob has gone from having two wives, who are sisters to now, essentially having four wives, the sisters and their and their attendants. And we’re basically watching a sisterly battle over who has the most children, which is their identity. And this comparison between the two is giving them a perceived value and it and it's come down to Laban and Jacob and the family itself extended is that this is not going well. Jacob is beginning to build well for himself, and this is creating envy in the larger family. And so, there's a bunch of drama going on and it's come to the point where Jacob feels like he has to leave, and he's tried to leave before but he's been convinced to stay. But now he feels like he's being led to leave, he's got to leave. And so, we end our week by seeing kind of a counsel between the lives and their husband and he's kinda sharing that they need to go, and they’re telling him we don't have a reason to stay. So, if God is leading us, let's go. And we will watch the story unfold, obviously, as we continue forward.

In the book of Matthew today, we saw Jesus, who is the rabbi to these disciples who are following him, we lose that at some point. Like, we know it in the back of our mind, Jesus is a rabbi traveling around the countryside. He's got disciples who are following Him, but we lose track of what that looks like. There were other rabbis who had other disciples traveling around the countryside, like this is the tradition. A rabbi would call somebody to take their yoke upon them and they would leave everything and follow this rabbi. And then the rabbi would essentially become their 24-hour-a-day teacher like for this season. They would raise them up and...and give them all of the wisdom that they had learned and transfer all that treasure that was in their heart to their disciples, so that their disciple would one day grow up and maybe be released to have a tribe of their own, disciples of their own. Or to go into the world and live what they had learned following the rabbi. So, Jesus is called people to be His disciples, but He hasn't really gone looking for like qualified Torah, excelling people who look like they will one day grow into being something. He kind of goes out among the ordinary people and invites them to become His disciples. And so, they are following Him around as He's doing is teaching, they are witnessing what He is doing and everything that He does is essentially a teaching moment for them. They are observing all of it. So, he sends them out on a field trip basically, today. Telling them like look go to the lost sheep of Israel. So, He’s like I'm not sending you into a culture that you do not understand, I am not sending you to people that you do not know. I am sending you to what you do understand and the kind of people that you do know and I want you to take steps of faith. Like don't take any money, don't take any supplies, you're going to go out and you’re gonna learn what it's like to practice your faith. You're going to go and learn what it's like to do what I'm doing. So, we got to see that happen today in the gospel of Matthew.

And then finally, as we end this second week we look into the book of Proverbs, and we need this set of three sentences to sink in. This is also a game changer. Like this, if this can be remembered, if this can be the focus, this changes our lives. Blessed are those, and we want to be that right like, don’t we spend a lot of energy trying to get into the zone of blessing, like we want to be blessed. So, here we go. Blessed are those who find wisdom. Blessed are those who gain understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. She is more precious than rubies, nothing you desire can compare with her. It's the Bible is telling us that wisdom is better than money, wisdom is better than jewelry, wisdom is better than anything that you can desire because the wise person, the person with wisdom knows how to attain and achieve these other things. They…they come to the wise person, a person walking in wisdom. It's so much like what Jesus is teaching, that things, that life is lived from within, that you can spend your whole life trying to make everything perfect outside of your life, but if you are in turmoil inside, nothing is ever going to feel like it has order or stability. But if you have order and stability in your soul and a profound and utter dependence on God, then we can live at peace, even if there's chaos all around us. Wisdom works like this. We can spend our whole lives trying to achieve the trinkets that are available, as beautiful and flashy and sparkly as they may be, those things that we achieve will not make us wise people. But wisdom from within shows us how to live in every situation. So, the counsel here is that nothing we desire can compare with wisdom. So, like above all else, wisdom should be the goal. And we certainly become wise from experience, we can certainly become wise from the Scriptures by simply watching the stories unfold in seeing where the roads lead, we also become wise by putting our allegiance and utter dependence in God, the fear of the Lord is the be beginning of wisdom. And we also gain wisdom by stopping our reactions. Like instead of just like, something rubs us the wrong way, and so our immediate reaction is to punch back. Like not even knowing the situation, we will react so much and get ourselves into so much trouble. But wisdom would have a pause, a beat, a moment to check in with ourselves and reflect on what is going on before we make a mess. And so, let's consider this. This would change how this year shapes up.

Prayer:

So, Father, we want change. We want things to shape up, that we are at peace inside of our souls trusting You and knowing that each day is an adventure to live. And that, that You are not oblivious, that You are with us always and would never leave us. Father, we are asking for wisdom, we need wisdom, maybe, I mean we have more knowledge than we have ever had in human history, we may need wisdom now more than ever. And how to interpret and walk through all this knowledge that we've amassed. We need Your Spirits guidance in our lives and so, we ask as we so often do that, Holy Spirit, You would lead us into all truth and away from that which is false. We ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, that's the website, it's where you find out what's going on around here, so check it out. If you don't have the Daily Audio Bible app, you can download that free from whatever app store works with your device and take the journey from there, check that out. Check out the Daily Audio Bible Shop. There are a number of categories in the Shop with resources for the journey that we are on. For example, the Lifestyle category in the Daily Audio Bible Shop is full of resources for the journey. For example, that the Daily Audio Bible Journal to write in or like the Global Campfire Cowboy Cup or the Global Campfire candle is all of the Black Wing pencil stuff, that I journal with, can be found in there. Some wearables like our Shalom Fleece Sweatshirt. Check it out in the Lifestyle section in the Daily Audio Bible Shop.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible. Thank you, humbly, we wouldn't be in this, we wouldn't be in this, if we weren't in this together, and so thank you for your partnership. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you're using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996 Springhill, Tennessee 37174.

And as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, that's the little red button up at the top. Or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today, I'm Brian, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here, tomorrow.

Prayer and Encouragements:

Good morning family this is Lilly from Gotco, from California. Being in the season that I am in my life, I am now an Abuelita, which is grandmother in Spanish. So, I am now calling myself Lita Lilly and all the treasures, that that, that that entails. But I heard Annie today. I just wanted to encourage you sweety girl. For being 10 you are so wise. And if you ask for more wisdom, you will be granted that. I am praying with you, with your brother, for your brother and his mental problems. I share in that with you, and that grief and pain. And I just encourage you to just keep trusting in the Lord as you are, and He will give you that peace in your mind and heart. And we’ll be praying for healing for your brother. I’m also praying, I’m calling for Alissa, who’s in the hospital on dialysis and scared because her child, she’s pregnant and has a four-year-old at home. And I just encourage you sweet girl, that when our faith doesn’t feel strong, just keep praying. You know, we’re all here for your, we’re all praying for you. Just being with you sweet girl. God is always faithful, that’s all I’ve known through this journey in my life. Is that He is faithful no matter what. And so, I’m praying for your health and for your little girl to just be given peace. When you talk to her may God just embrace her and give her a strong hug and you too, Annie. I just love you all. Have a great day. Bye Bye.

Good morning family, this is Incognito but not to God. Requesting prayer for myself and for my family. Yesterday, January the 8th I received a call that nobody likes to receive. My nephew was found dead, Sunday morning by his 10-year-old daughter. My eldest sister, that’s my eldest sister's son, and she lives internationally. So, you can only imagine when she got the call. So, just requesting prayer family. I’m asking God to just give us the wisdom to know how to proceed and to send the comforter. Lord, times like this. A year ago, we lost his brother in a tragic way as well. So, it’s a lot. But I’m gonna praise God anyhow. Thank you, family.

Hi, Daily Audio Bible family, it’s Renzo in Florida. I would just ask for some prayers. I’d been doing good, but I feel like, actually to explain my testimony a little bit, I’ve been clean from pornography for three years now. But, as you know, it’s a battle everyday with my thoughts. So, ask if you guys could just pray for my thought life and that it’s clean and honors God. And just, I keep an eye on where my eyes are at for sure. And I would appreciate that. God bless you. Jesus loves you.

Happy New Year DAB family, this is Mommy’s Little Rock from Arkansas. I just wanted to say, I am so grateful for this app. I’m so grateful for my DAB family. I am so grateful for my cousin, Colet who shared with me, the DAB information years ago and I’ve been following ever since. I just wanna pray for those, and ask for prayer actually for those of us who are still grieving the loss of either a parent, a loved one, family member, spouse, child, sibling, even our fur babies, our animals, our pets. And even loses of jobs and homes. And I just want us to pray for those individuals who are really going through some emotional and mental things right now. Also, just a prayer for my health, my overall health. I’m still recovering from surgery I had in 2021. And just the after effects from it. Sometimes gets me a little down but I’m here, I’m happy and I’m looking forward to this new year. I just ask for all of ya’lls prayers for me and I continue to pray for each and every one of you every single day before I leave to go to work. I appreciate you guys so much. And love Brian and his family, Jill, everyone, for answering the call that God gave over his life and proceeding to create such an awesome, awesome app for us to come together virtually. So, I hope you guys are off to a good new year, Happy New Year. Stay blessed and I love you all. Bye Bye.

Hello. This is Anonymous from North Carolina. Asking for prayer for my husband and myself, our marriage. My estranged husband. I don’t know where to start. What to say. Just please pray for us. We have separated and he has mistreated me, told me he hated me, for now reason, unprovoked. Abandoned me I need him. Took my rings, my wedding rings. Took my money and holding it hostage. Because I won’t sign a separation agreement that has not been fully evaluated and won’t disclose the finances to our attorneys. I’m continuing to pray for him as I pray for everyone else. And I just hope God just touches his heart. He knows what he’s done is wrong. And he’s a man of God. He’s a minister and I just pray that You, touch his heart, Lord. Please pray for me. Pray for me, pray for us.  

[youngpettyqueen]

finished Warchild today!! thoughts below the cut

tldr: loved this book a LOT

this book was GREAT for Julian character exploration. he's my favourite little guy, lets get that out of the way first- Julian is amazing in this book, and I love love LOOOOOOVE Esther Friesner's take on him and how she wrote him. this book is set between s1 and s2, so this is Julian in the early days of his character development, still so young and desperate to prove himself, overflowing with emotion and passion, and UGH its all so fucking good. he's grappling with self-doubt and insecurity, while at the same time also doing some of his best work as a doctor, fuelled by desperation and the need to do whatever he can to help. he works himself to the bone until he literally faints. he gets so angry on behalf of the suffering children and he doesnt give a flying fuck who he's talking to when he unleashes about it. he cries over losing a child he had a bond with, Belem, actually CRIES- something I dont think we ever see from him in the series. the raw emotional vulnerability from Julian in this book is just. so good. god. I could write an essay. his brief romance with Jalika is bittersweet, and while it is a bit shoehorned in, imo, it does showcase how Julian falls hard and fast and with reckless abandon. fantastic depiction of the character, fantastic exploration of him as a doctor, seriously I cant praise this book enough for so wonderfully capturing Julian's character in every single way

also of note. this book was written prior to Doctor Bashir, I Presume? even airing, coming out in 1994, and yet we still get some fantastic implications about Julian's family. his internal narration of his family is derisive and he avoids thinking about them, and he thinks a bit about how he was raised in higher society among politicians. also also, there's a specific bit where he mentions how his parents boasted about him only enjoying "the finest dining" as a child, and it was a cover for him just being a picky eater. considering what would be revealed later, about Julian being neurodivergent and/or disabled, I found that to be an interesting note

Julian rambling out of the way, my absolute favourite thing about this book is its depiction of Bajor. this book truly doesnt hold back in depicting just how dire the situation is on Bajor. we're still in the early days of Bajor being liberated, and it isnt a pretty picture. Friesner strikes a beautiful balance between the unflinching, raw depictions of the refugee camps, the desolation, the dying children, and the brutal, honest depiction of the government and its failings. this book follows DS9's example of depicting characters who did what they had to do in sympathetic lights wonderfully, and you find yourself sympathizing with people who do terrible things because they've been driven to such a breaking point. the failures of Bajor's provisional government are truly highlighted, garnering more sympathy for the people in these camps, the people who aren't getting the help they so desperately need. it makes no attempts to sugarcoat or soften anything, forcing every non-Bajoran character's eyes wide open at the same time it does the readers. its a POWERFUL book in that regard, and I found it deeply compelling and difficult to put down

another highlight for me is the Kira and Sisko dynamic. this is still early days for them, and they butt heads constantly. the trust they come to develop isnt quite there yet, and Kira isnt afraid to let Sisko know exactly what she thinks, and she isnt afraid to do so as bluntly as she sees fit. in the same vein, I love the dynamic between Sisko and Bajor here. its strained, uncomfortable, Sisko cant seem to ever do anything right because every choice he makes makes somebody angry. Sisko really just cant catch a break in this one. he's either dealing with Bajoran representatives who are never pleased, or he's trying to track down Julian who's gone AWOL, or he's dealing with Quark. he truly cannot win

Kira's scenes in this novel are FASCINATING also, as they explore her faith and where it clashes with her duty. we see so many facets of her character- the hotheaded rebel fighter, the major, the soft and gentle motherly figure, the proud warrior. I love that shes fully in support of Julian going AWOL and backs him up. I love that later shes conflicted about it because she believes so wholly in the prophecy and the Nekor that she wants him back to be able to cure her. I wish we got more of her in the novel, I especially wish we got more from her POV, I think it would've really benefitted the story and the furthering of character relationships. still, im satisfied with what we got

Jadzia gets some great time to shine as a scientist in this one. I love the teamwork between her and Julian, and the emphasis placed on what a great team they make. theres a very cute scene where he makes a big breakthrough and grabs her and dances around with her and its like, one of my favourite things ive ever read. but she seriously gets to shine so much in her work in this one, there would've been no vaccine without her, and she does everything she can to further her research and her work. shes working herself to the bone as well, even if shes better at dealing with it, and her lifetimes of experience really get to take centre stage. wish we had some more of her, like I do with Kira, but also like with Kira, im satisfied with what we got

the original characters in this novel are great. Belem was devastating, the various Vedeks and representatives made me grind my teeth, and Cedara and Dejana were just. so fucking good. Cedara and Dejana felt so REAL, they were so interesting to read, heartbreaking and hilarious all at once, and so so charming. I saw the reveal with Cedara coming, and I loved it. I could read a whole series about her, a wild child with far too much placed on her shoulders, desperate to protect her little sister and her home. I like to think her and Julian keep in touch, and they visit each other, and he helps her out on her path to becoming a healer. then theres Jalika, who I did enjoy, but definitely felt the weakest of the introduced characters. I wish we got more time with her, and I wish there was more exploration of her beyond being the kind and gentle healer. we get a brief glimpse of her being quite capable of being deadly, and fierce, but only the brief glimpse. still, she was compelling, and her and Julian's brief romance had an ending that packed a surprising punch considering how short it was. really felt for both of them with that one

overall, this book was a solid read that I thoroughly enjoyed. I'd highly recommend it to anyone wanting more content about Bajor, and anybody who wants a really good Julian-centric story that pushes him to points we dont get to see him pushed to in the series. its a devastating read at times, but also hilarious- seriously, theres a scene with a hologram of Dukat dancing ballet in a pink tutu. what more can I say

[from-a-reckless-writer]

RE: the tags about being tempted to post a half finished fic and guess the ending, well you are a reckless writer for a reason

this is long overdue, so here have a fic.

It has come to the point that nothing fazes her anymore.

A kidnapping? Been there, done that. It means calling Sam Arias to intimidate the board of members into temporary submission.

An explosion at the office? Just a typical Tuesday. It means relocating to the 23rd floor and sharing the desk with two other interns for 2 months tops.

An assassination attempt? It means bracing herself for at least 3 deliveries of donuts and coffee for the two following weeks that Kara Danvers would be protectively hovering over L-Corp, until her boss snaps and shoos her away back to CatCo.

She’s seen it all, endured it all and she sure as hell is prepared for it all. She’s got three different ironclad statements ready to publish for whatever PR disaster will most likely turn up that week. She’s got contacts from the FBI, DEO, CatCo, Daily Planet, Gotham Gazette-- hell she even has Lillian’s personal cell (just in case the Luthor matriarch ever tries anything y’know? ) and yes, even the number of that 'Mexican place at 5th and Spring, you know the one Kara likes, Jess?'

She’s got two pairs of heels, a raincoat and four sets of outfits neatly folded in a duffel bag, at the back of the office, reserved for any emergency that requires a change of clothes.

The point is, she is an independent Asian-American woman who has worked her ass off for the better part of the decade and has long learned to take no shit from anybody.

Not even stupid superpowered Kryptonians.

See, it takes a lot to be her. It takes unlimited patience to put up with a woman like Lena Luthor, not because she’s a terrible person. Oh no, no, the complete opposite, actually. She is so overwhelmingly kind to a fault, and she doesn’t want nor let anybody see it. It’s infuriating to see sometimes. Okay, fine, she sides with the Krytonian on that one matter. But oh, ho, ho, not today. Today, she’s mad.

She’s livid, actually and it’s all Supergirl’s fault. (and Lena Luthor's too.)

Jess has had her fair share of ‘I-Should-Not-Have-Been-Here’ moments, like that one time she forgot to knock and stumbled unto Lex mid-yell with Lena whose eyes were shimmering but was still keeping a rigid posture.

Or that one time when she thought her boss had long left the office, only to be greeted with quiet sobs and an empty bottle of scotch rolling on the floor. Or that time she happened upon Lena, skirt and sleeves on fire with fumes rising from a green solution.

Apparently, her staff from the lab refused to let her in after three days of their CEO holding herself in isolation with the experiment. Lena had gotten the great idea of smuggling the chemicals to her office instead. Luthors are nothing but determined. Jess still remembers the adrenaline rush of holding a fire extinguisher—as if she were the chosen 5th grader for a school fire drill—and shoving her boss out of the way.

Like she said, nothing fazes her anymore she’s seen it all, except maybe, this one. Yep, definitely this one. This one just made a hot ball of fury unfurl at her very core. This one might just take the cake.

Jess was just going about her day, returned from a hearty lunch and feeling reinvigorated from that dose of sunlight and fresh air. It was a quiet day today, she noticed, which should’ve been a foretelling.

Nothing really is ever quiet. Well, when it comes to L-Corp, at least.

She’s been sitting on her desk for about a good fifteen minutes and finished with screening a few papers from their new contractors, when it occurs to her that the latest blueprints from R&D are still on her desk instead of already being reviewed by her boss.

She grabs the drawing tube and quickly makes for her boss’s private office. They’ve spent enough time with each other that Jess could just come and go as she pleases, instead of having to knock each time. Saves both of their time, that way.

Although, usually, she buzzes through the intercom first to double check, but it was 1:20 P.M and she knows Lena doesn’t have anything scheduled after lunch. So, she pushes the door, confidently strolls in and promptly stops in her tracks.

Jess stops breathing for a moment, blinks once, twice, stares at the scene before her.

Lena Luthor sat atop her work desk; blouse open, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, neck currently being ravaged by Supergirl with legs wrapped around the waist.

She probably should’ve just turned and left while they haven’t seen her yet. That would’ve been the smart decision, right? Yes. Yes, it was so very clearly The Right Decision.

Of course, she doubts she could look Lena in the eye for the next few weeks after that, but at least she wouldn’t know that Jess walked in on them during an er- make-out session? Office tryst? Oh God, she shudders internally. It sounds even worse.

Incident? Yep. Yeah. She’s sticking with incident. Indecent incident sounds more apt really.

She should’ve left. Would have left, if her eyes didn’t just land on the desk—well, more like Miss Luthor’s as- backside—and felt the stirrings of rage make itself known. Because there, underneath Lena’s ass (Backside!! Jess, that’s your boss!) is the squished—probably crumpled—pages of a contract.

A contract they’ve spent 5 months securing!!

Jess decides to do what everyone else would have done in a situation such as this; she clears her throat. Loudly.

Classic move.

Supergirl’s head immediately shoots up and Lena’s eyes snap open.

“Jess!” Supergirl squeaks and she sees the exact moment the realization hits Lena. Her eyes widening at her girlfriend’s exclamation, whips her head to the side, spots Jess, hands scrambling to a panic to close all the buttons of her blouse.

She hears Lena hiss, “Fuck, shit. Oh my God. Shit. How did she even- You have superhearing!!!” as she pushes Supergirl—who lets herself be pushed, stunned by the intrusion, face redder than a tomato.

Lena gets off the desk, fixes herself all the while to futile results. Her hair is tugged down from her usual ponytail, her neck and chest is marked, her lips swollen.

Supergirl's hands twitch at the sides and Jess sees her gulp as blue eyes frantically dart to Lena and her, and then Lena, and then back to her.

Lena finally turns around after those few awkward beats.

"Jess," she begins, clearly trying hard to put on her business bitch persona, but come on, there's a hickey under her jaw for fuck's sake.

"It's not what you-"

Jess doesn’t let her finish, she stomps her way across the office and forcefully puts the drawing tube on the desk. It makes a hollow thump.

“Jess I-”

“Supergirl, do you know how long it takes to finalize a business proposal, pitch it to the board, persuade the board and finally have a contract drawn?”

Supergirl gulps again. Lena’s eyes are wild next to her, she doesn’t like not knowing what the next best move is, Jess knows this all too well.

“Uhhh- no?”

Jesus Christ, you’d think after years of shadowing Cat Grant, she'd had at least learned a thing or two. Then again, if somebody is full on glaring at her after getting caught red-handed, Jess doubts she could answer coherently too.

“That’s right,” Jess says, “You don’t.”

“Jess,” Lena repeats pointedly. She knows that tone. It’s a warning.

“Ms. Luthor.”

A period not a question mark. It’s a challenge.

"I've spent all my evenings working late on that, do you know how many dates I've had to cancel? Just so I can secure a meeting with Qatar and simultaneously sync it with Beijing's time? My boyfriend hasn't seen me in two weeks!” Jess bursts out.

“Two weeks, Supergirl!” She gets close enough to jab a finger to the Girl of Steel’s chest. A feat she will gladly tell all her coworkers later when she’s calmed down enough.

“Not to mention, the 10 other people who worked their ass off trying to make sure that Miss Luthor's presentation is airtight, bulletproof and waterproof!” Lena has the decency to look a little guilty at this point, nothing big though, just a slight tug at her lips, but it was enough for Jess.

“IT TOOK ME 3 FUCKING MINUTES TO PRINT THAT GODDAMN CONTRACT WHICH MIGHT NOT SOUND LONG—” Jess raises a finger in emphasis, “BUT BELIEVE ME WORKING IN L-CORP? A 3 MINUTE DIFFERENCE CAN MEAN AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT OR PSYCHOPATH PRESS!”

Supegirl of all people should already know this! For fuck’s sake!

Jess’s chest is heaving. She takes a deep breath, kneads her knuckles to her eyelids, “So, please if you're gonna have sex in the office, please, pleaseeeee clear the desk first. And at least, lock the door.”

She stares them both down, till Lena gives her a solemn nod; cheeks and ears still red. Supergirl squeaks out an, “U-understood, Ma’am.”

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” Jess gives them one final nod before finally fulfilling what she came in here to do, “Miss Luthor,” She turns to Lena, “here are the R&D blueprints. Good day, to you Supergirl. I'll be going now. "

When she finally goes home, tells her boyfriend, and wonders aloud if she’ll still have a job the next morning, he tells her she’s such a badass.

And well, Jess can’t disagree with that.

*****

"Did I just- Did I just get yelled at by your secretary?? D-did she just chew us out?"

"She did, and she deserves a raise."

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Doctor Y/n - Ortho Fellowship - 1 - Grey's Anatomy x Fem!Reader

A board-certified, orthopedic fellow.

You were a board-certified orthopedic fellow at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital in Seattle.

But at what cost?

Jo and Alex were gone, Arizona was gone, Leah was gone, even April was gone whilst you stayed.

Now you were alone.

///

"Hey, Y/n, how's Seattle?" Arizona asked as you answered the video-call.

"Hey, Mini-Me! How's ortho?" Callie added, leaving you to roll your eyes.

"I met one of the other fellows, he's an ass. He thought I was a peds fellow because I have rainbows on my scrub cap. I just told him I was hella gay and walked off." You deadpanned, rolling your eyes as you walked down to the ER.

"Seriously? That's just... that's just-" Arizona complained, leaving you to nod, letting out a sigh as you reached the ER.

"Wow, even the ER is lonely without any of you here... I'm going to go check on some pre-ops, ortho has a new chief guy." You admitted, hanging up before Arizona could say anything else.

"Do you think she's okay?" Callie asked Arizona, frowning as the screen was blank from you hanging up.

"No, I don't think she is." Arizona chewed her lip, putting her phone away.

///

"Whoah, hi, sorry, uh, let me help you with that!" You exclaimed, almost tripping over a woman's suitcases.

"It's fine, I'm fine... you're Doctor S/n, the resident who flew to New York on her day off to keep working."

"Uh, Y/n, yeah, I suppose that's a better thing to be known for, and you are?"

"Doctor Teddy Altman." Teddy replied, offering you her hand after you'd made sure her suitcases weren't going to fall over again.

"Nice to meet you Doctor Altman... oh, incoming trauma, I have to go, it was so nice to meet you!" You exclaimed, letting go off her hand so you could run down to the ER.

Teddy smiled to herself as she watched you jog in the other direction.

///

"Oooh, S/n, looking snazzy in navy blue." Amelia teased as she spotted you.

"No time, incoming trauma, open femur fracture." You replied, hurrying as you spotted Hunt with Webber and Levi.

"You got this, Hunt?"

"S/n, Schmitt, let's go." Hunt replied, gesturing to the ambulance bay.

"MVC. Altered at the scene. Pulse 130. BP's holding in the nineties. There's also an open femur fracture."

"We're gonna need ortho, there's a new hotshot ortho guy, let's get him." Hunt stated, gesturing to Levi.

"Wow, thanks." You grumbled, ignoring how Owen raised an eyebrow of challenge at you by helping move the patient for extraction.

Like Levi had said, she was a human bike rack.

///

"Somebody page ortho again, I'm gonna need a portable scan, S/n." Owen stated, leaving you to hurry over and get the needed equipment.

"I'm in heaven... you are all so pretty..." Nisha rambled, looking from Jackson to Owen to you, "like angels, in yellow."

"Oh my god!" Nisha exclaimed as Doctor Atticus Lincoln and Nico Kim walked over.

"Someone ask for an Ortho God?"

"Well, S/n's already here." Jackson interjected, leaving you to give him a grateful look.

"Open femur fracture, taking it off the metal could make her bleed out, you'd need a tourniquet to control it. You stated, leaving Link to nod.

"Doctor S/n, Doctor Lincoln and I have this handled, why don't you sort out the broken wrist in bed 3?" Nico asked, leaving you to sigh, glancing at Link before you left.

"Because she totally wasn't here first." Jackson muttered to himself, watching you walk over to the patient in bed 3.

"Why did you send away the pretty one?" Nisha whined, leaving Owen to roll his eyes subtly.

///

"Doctor Pierce, what speciality is she?" Teddy gestured to you as she spotted you passing her patient room to check on other patients.

"Y/n S/n? She's ortho, Doctor Torres basically raised her from an intern... but I am trying to persuade her to be double-certified and do a cardio fellowship too, I am not letting talent like hers fall to the boneheads." Maggie rambled as she checked for the blood clot in Teddy's femoral artery, like she had said she thought she had before.

///

You rolled your eyes as you stood in the gallery, watching Link and Nico perform ortho surgery on Nisha's leg.

"Shouldn't that be you down there?" Amelia asked, leaving you to huff.

"Nico is the one who thought I was in peds." You deadpanned, grimacing at the music that was now blasting in the OR.

///

"S/n, do you want to scrub in with me on this open distal radius fracture?" Link enquired, spotting you looking in on Nisha's post-op room.

"You going to let Kim kick me off that case later too?" You raised an eyebrow, leaving Link to sigh.

"He shouldn't have done that, but you could have fought back-"

"I fight back when necessary, and when that happens, people don't know what hit them." You stated before walking into the OR to scrub in.

///

"But I'm not married." Meredith grumbled, pausing as she was face to face with Link.

"That's cool. Me neither." Link grinned, looking confused as Meredith walked away.

"S/n, have you seen the hyperbaric chamber yet?"

"I'm going now, also, can you call me Y/n? S/n's a surname of the parents who abandoned me." You requested, walking away as Link frowned.

"You were abandoned?"

"And that's on desensitisation to trauma." You whispered to yourself as you walked away.

///

"I don't think you two are supposed to be honeymooning in a hospital?"

"Braces! Wow, navy scrubs look good on you!" Jo grinned as she spotted you leaning in the doorway.

"Hey, bonehead." Alex waved, leaving you to laugh.

"Tomato. You forgot suncream, didn't you? Anyway, what's this about you coming up with the future of medicine?" You walked into the room, spotting Jo's napkin notes.

"Doctor S/n, have you seen a dog?" Qadri asked, leaving you to pause, glancing around the room with wide eyes.

"There's, there's a dog in the hospital?"

Qadri nodded, raising an eyebrow as you scooted backwards to stand on a chair, then sit on the table.

"Oh, crap." Jo exclaimed, leaving Alex to frown.

"Oh, crap?"

"Braces is terrified of dogs. Terrified, terrified." Jo explained, reaching up to grab your arm as you bum-shuffled the table.

"Y/n, you can't sit on the table all shift." Alex stated, leaving you to grumble, your pager going off.

"I'm going, I'm going. Go on your honeymoon in a place that isn't a hospital then you need to go to Boston-"

"I already told Boston no, I don't have a job." Jo corrected you, leaving you to walk into the doorframe as you turned around.

"You did what? I have to go." You replied as you were paged again to the ER.

///

"I think I applied for a fellowship in Boston because I could apply for a fellowship in Boston, because Paul's dead. But I didn't stop to consider what I actually want, which is not Boston. I hate Boston. Boston feels like I'm moving backwards... oh my god, Braces said the same thing, she didn't want to go anywhere but Seattle, because starting over to her feels like moving backwards! I wanna move forward. You know what? I'm gonna talk to Bailey." Jo declared, standing up from the bar table and grabbing her things.

///

A loud squeal caught your attention as you pulled your Yale hoodie over your head in the bathroom of the fellows lounge.

"Joey?"

"Bailey signed off on a surgical innovation fellowship for me! Let's go drink!" Jo grinned, pulling you from the attendings lounge and down the hallway to the bar across the street.

"I only report to Bailey, I'm gonna get to work in a fancy lab with cellular technology, and I get dark-blue scrubs, like Braces, which makes us better than you." Jo bragged to Levi and Helm.

"What is that?"

"Nope!" You exclaimed, moving to the other side of the bar as Qadri appeared with the stray dog in her bag.

"My dog, apparently." Qadri replied as Jo held onto you, noticing you glaring at Nico slightly.

"He thought I was in peds." you grumbled before your phone began to ring.

"'zona, hi."

///

Tags: @nnightskiess @emskisworld @multifandomlesbianic

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Happier|Part Four

You guys! I’m kind of sad that Happier is ending. I really enjoyed writing it and from the feedback I know a lot of you guys enjoyed reading it. This part is a little different. We get a little back and forth from Reader to Chris’s POV. 

Previous Parts: One Two Three

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: angst (surprise), swearing, mentions of accident and a small mention of blood

“You want to explain what the hell that was?” Carissa snapped as soon as Chris stepped into her line of sight. “Seriously, Chris. What were you thinking? You can’t just punch somebody.” 

“Well it’s my house.” He grumbled. Carissa shot him a look that had him letting out a long sigh. 

She ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes getting glossy. “This was supposed to be my night. I wanted to celebrate my birthday with friends and get to know some of your friends as well. What is going on?” 

“Nothing.” Chris shoved his hands into his pockets, the night air mixed with this conversation causing him to shiver. He watched as Y/N walked out of his house, her cheeks flushed and her eyes red. He did everything in his power to not walk over to her and wrap her up in his arms. “Nothing, it was a misunderstanding.” 

Carissa followed his gaze and let out an unamused laugh. “Okay if it’s nothing we’ll ask, Y/n. Since she was right there she can clear it up.” 

Chris tugged on her hand as she called out her name. 

“Stop. Okay? Just stop.” Chris pulled her back towards the side of the house as Y/N jumped in her car without turning around. “She’s leaving anyway.” 

Carissa didn’t say anything as she just watched Y/n drive off. Finally she turned back to Chris, her shoulders dropping. Chris watched as her resolve vanished and her shoulders started shaking slightly. 

Shit. 

“Honey, I’m sorry.” He walked over to her but she took a step back. 

“Why did you bring me here?” She looked up at him as the tears flowed freely down her face. “Why did you bring me back here when you’re in love with someone else?” 

Chris took a step back as if she slapped him in the face. 

“Carissa, what are you talking about?” 

“Please.” She scoffed, wiping away some of her tears. “Please don’t patronize me. I’m a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. I see the way you and Y/N are around each other.” 

“Y/N? What? That’s-there’s no way. That’s crazy.” Chris fumbled over his words. “We’re just friends, Carissa.” 

“I’m not mad.” she sniffed. “I should be, but I’m not. Because it’s so clear that she’s as in love with you as you are with her. It was evident the first night I met her.”

Chris shook his head still trying to process everything that was coming out of his girlfriend's mouth. 

“Look me in my eyes and tell me that I’m wrong. Tell me that you aren’t madly in love with her.” She said softly. 

Chris opened his mouth, willing the words to come out but nothing could. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lie to her. 

“I think I’m going to stay with Veronica for a couple days. I’ll have some people come by and grab my things.” Carissa mumbled before she walked past an open mouthed Chris without another word. 

Chris watched as Carissa faded back into a throng of people in the house. He had two choices: go after Carissa or go after Y/N. He ran his fingers through his hair before running into the house. 

“Where are you going?” Chris walked past his brother as he reached for his keys that were hanging in the foyer. Quickly he glanced back inside where the party was supposed to be taking place. The music had been turned down and the carefree attitude that had been there all night was now replaced with a palpable tension. Chris knew he would have to give Carissa a better apology, for everything, but not right now. 

“I’m going after Y/N.” Chris finally answered simply.

“Listen, I’m all for Team Y/N and Chris but you guys can talk tomorrow. Give her some time. Tonight was a lot. For the both of you.” 

“We’ve wasted enough time, Scott.” Chris narrowed his eyes. 

“I know you have-” Scott was interrupted by the loud ring of Chris’s phone. Chris held up his finger, silencing his brother as he saw Y/N’s name flash across the screen. 

“Sweetheart, hey-” 

“Mr. Evans?” Chris stilled as a different female voice answered him on the other end.

“Yeah?” He questioned. He glanced at Scott who now had a confused expression on his face. “Who is this? Where’s Y/N?” 

“Sir, my name is Nurse Stadler. I work at Boston General. I’m calling on behalf of Miss Y/L/N.” She paused for a moment. “There’s been an accident, Mr. Evans.” 

Chris felt as though his entire body shut down. He reached out for Scott, his hand landing on his brother’s shoulder. 

“What?” Scott asked. “Chris, what is going on?” 

“What do you mean by an accident? I just-I just saw her.” Chris stuttered, his breathing coming out ragged. Scott stiffened as the word accident passed through Chris’s lips. 

“I’m not at liberty to give information over the phone, Mr. Evans. You are Miss Y/L/N’s emergency contact and if you come down to the hospital someone will be able to fill you in more.” Nurse Stadler’s voice was calm. 

“Uh yeah, of course.” Chris clicked off, his mind in a daze. 

I shouldn’t have let her drive off. She was drunk and emotional. No state to drive a three thousand pound vehicle. 

This is my fault. 

“Chris!” 

Chris blinked and looked turned to his younger brother who was searching his face for answers. 

“You have to drive me to the hospital. It’s Y/N.” 

Everything felt heavy. Your head. Your body. It was like you were weighted down. You slowly opened your eyes as they began to focus. 

Why is there a pole in my car? 

You tried to move but your body felt pinned in place. You glanced down at let out a silent whimper as you saw the blood pooling from your abdomen. 

“Oh my god…” You again tried to move, but once again failed. 

“Ma’am?” You turned your head as much as you could to the voice to your left. “Ma’am are you alright?” 

You groaned as your head lulled forward, too tired to stay upright.

 “Help me.” Your voice came out in a weak whisper. You couldn’t hear what the voice had to say as you passed out seconds after your plea. 

“I’m looking for Y/N Y/L/N.” Chris said hurriedly as he tapped his hands against the desk of the nurses station. Scott right on his tail, placed his hand on his brother’s back hoping to calm some of his nerves. “Y/N Y/L/N!” 

“Chris, calm down.” Scott warned his brother before giving the startled nurse an apologetic nurse. 

“I’m not going to calm down, Scott.” Chris snapped, spinning around on his sibling. “She’s here and she’s hurt and it’s my fault. So don’t fucking tell me to calm down.” 

“It’s not your fault, Chris.” 

“The hell it isn’t.” Chris looked away, turning back to the nurse. “Please. Where is she?” 

“Mr. Evans.” Both Chris and Scott looked up to see a plump, older woman waving them over. Chris recognized her voice as the one from the phone. 

“Nurse Stadler?” Chris pushed away from the desk and rushed to the woman. “Where is she?” 

“Mr. Evans-” 

“Chris. Please.” 

Nurse Stadler gave him a warm smile. “Chris. She’s right over here, but I’m going to warn you she’s pretty banged up. Her car collided with a guard rail on the highway.” Chris almost lost it. He bit his knuckle to stop him from crying out. “She sustained serious injury to her abdomen and her face has some lacerations and bruising.” 

“Is she awake?” Scott asked, his voice thick. 

“No.” Nurse Stadler shook her head. “She lost a lot of blood before the ambulance got there.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Scott muttered as Chris sat in silent shock. 

“They were able to get her into surgery and fix the internal bleeding. But her body has been through a tremendous trauma. Right now it’s just a waiting game. But she’ll come out of it.” Nurse Stadler laid a gentle hand over Chris’s. “Okay? You just have to have faith that she wants to wake up soon.” 

Chris just nodded before walking into the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, watching her breathing as her heart monitor let him know that she was still alive. 

“Come on, sweetheart. You gotta wake up.” He pleaded, his eyes blurry. “Please.” 

Again you felt heavy, but this time it was different. You opened your eyes slowly, afraid of what you might see. You squinted as the bright lights above started coming more into view. The steady beep of the heart monitor next to you and the whir of the fan above let you know that you were now in a hospital. You tried to move, but your arms were pinned now by IV’s. 

“Sweetheart?” Chris walked into the room carrying what looked like a fresh cup of coffee and a bagel. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was unruly and his usually trimmed beard was now a mess. His pale face accentuated the dark circles that were forming under his tired eyes. 

“Hi, buddy.” You tried to sound chipper but it came out in the form of a groan. 

Chris set down his breakfast before rushing over to you, his lips instantly finding yours. At first you were too shocked to even kiss him back but as his fingers skimmed down your bruised cheeks you melted into his kiss. It was gentle and passionate and everything that you thought kissing Chris would be like. Slowly he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. 

“Don’t scare me like that ever again.” His blue eyes were swimming with tears. Carefully this time you reached up and wiped away a tear that had fallen down. Chris closed his eyes as he rested his cheek in your palm. 

“I had to get your attention somehow.” You joked quietly. Chris let out a sob/chuckle as he kissed you again. 

“You have my attention. Always have and always will.” You tried to sit up to get closer to him but let out a whine as your stomach contracted in pain. 

“Don’t try and sit up right now, honey.” You looked past Chris to see a nurse walking in. Chris smiled at her warmly and gave her a quick hug. You raised your eyebrow in a question as he came back to you. 

“Nurse Stadler,” The woman playfully swatted Chris who just laughed. “My bad. Julie over here has been my saving grace. Well...yours too, but she’s kept me from chewing off the head of every hospital staff here.” Chris answered sheepishly. 

“Oh. Well then I guess thank you, Julie.” You smiled at her as she started checking your vitals. 

“Of course. This poor boy. Thought I was gonna have to call a code on him once or twice while he was waiting.You’ve got a keeper here, Y/N.” 

Chris squeezed your hand, careful of your wiring, before bringing it up to his lips. 

“He’s alright.” You laughed before wincing in pain. 

“Ahh, careful. Laughing is not going to be as enjoyable as it once was for a while.” Julie explained. 

You and Chris talked with Julie while she finished checking everything that needed to be checked. Thankfully she was able to remove one IV so you had a little more motion with your right arm. As soon as she left, Chris placed another sweet kiss on your lips. 

“Now that I’ve kissed you, I don’t want to stop.” He smiled against your lips. You hummed in agreement as you kissed him back. 

Carissa. 

You froze and pulled back slightly. How could you forget the biggest obstacle in yours and Chris’s way. 

“Chris what about-” 

“I ended it with her. Or she ended it with me. It might have been mutual, I don’t know.” Chris rambled. You squeezed his hand and he took a deep breath. “She came. Here, I mean. While you were still asleep. We had talked at the house but we officially ended it here.” 

“I feel terrible.” You said, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb along the track of his knuckles. “I never meant to hurt her or anyone.” 

“Hey,” Chris scooted his chair closer to your bed, if that was even possible. “Please don’t beat yourself up. This was on me. I shouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with someone when I was very clearly in love with someone else.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip as you processed his words. “You love me?” 

“I love you.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your nose. “I love you.” Another kiss to your cheek. “I love you.” Another one to your other cheek. “I. Love. You.” He ended on your lips. 

“Would this be a bad time to say I think we should just be friends?” 

“You’re not funny.” Chris rolled his eyes, kissing you again. 

“I’m a little funny.” You smirked before your gaze softened.  “I love you too.” 

“Promise me, no more car accidents? I don’t think I can handle that kind of torture. Worst three days of my life.” 

“I was out for three days?” You gasped. 

“Yeah…” He sighed before smirking. “There are more fun reasons to be holed up in bed for three days and none of them include a hospital.” 

“Chris!” You smacked his arm but grinning none the less. 

“Ew, are you guys going to be this sickening forever?” Scott made a face as he walked into the room, a giant bouquet of flowers in his hand. He shot you a wink as he set down the flowers before going to your other side and giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“If you don’t like it, don’t look.” Chris answered, but his eyes never left yours. “Cause I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.” 

Seven Years Later: 

You squinted as the light snuck its way through the small crack in the blinds, always somehow landing right on your face and causing you to wake up. Groaning, you rolled over throwing your husband over your husband's torso. But your arm fell straight to the mattress. You opened your eyes again and noticed that the spot usually occupied by Chris was now empty. You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. 

“Momma!” You smiled as your three-year-old daughter, Julie (affectionately named after her godmother), poked her head through the door. She let out a little squeal before running to you, jumping up on the bed and into your arms. “Morning, momma.” 

“Good morning, baby.” You pressed a light kiss to her nose and she scrunched her face in amusement. You scooted her back in your arms as you noticed she had something all over her pajamas. “What is all over you, silly girl?” 

“Sorry, that would be my fault.” You looked up as Chris snuck into the bedroom carrying a tray full of pancakes, bacon and fruit.  “We wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“You did what?” You tickled your daughter’s side as you smiled. “Did you help daddy make breakfast?” 

“Yeah!” She said excitedly, her tiny hands clapping together. 

“She’s the best sous chef in the state.” Chris set the tray at the foot of the bed and crawled next to the both of you. “Good morning, beautiful.” 

Your heart fluttered as he gave you a sweet kiss. Five years of marriage and you still felt like a teenager in love every time Chris was affectionate with you. 

“Good morning.” You whispered against his lips. 

Your heart felt full as you enjoyed your breakfast with your family. Julie thoroughly enjoyed when Chris made a big smile out of the bacon strips. You sat back content as you watched the two best people in your life laugh and play. You never thought that your life would end up here; Chris by your side and a beautiful little girl that was the perfect mix of the both of you. 

“I love you, momma.” you were snapped out of your thoughts as Julie climbed over to you again. 

“I love you more, bug.” 

“Daddy wins. He loves you both the most.” Chris said triumphantly, pulling the both of you into his arms. You cuddled into your husband and laid your head against his shoulder. Chris leaned down and gave you a kiss on your head. 

“Are you happy?” You asked after you all just sat in a comfortable silence, Julie slowly nodding off from all the excitement. 

Chris squeezed you closer as he brushed a piece of Julie’s hair out of her face. She gave him a sleepy smile before closing her eyes and resting her head on your chest. 

“I’ve never been happier.”

TAGS:

@username23345​

@thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog​

@stopbeingcurious​

@lharrietg​

@officialmarvelwhore​

@memoriesat30​

@mydarlingharry​

@kelbabyblue​

@evansphrix12

@thegreentwin

@denisemarieangelina​

@joannie95​

@crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans

@jennamarieee623​

@undecidedsworld​

@tenaciousperfectionunknown​

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@before-we-get-started​

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@patzammit​

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[parkers-gal]

Being tom’s costar & him setting you up with his brother, Harry. Maybe reader keeps saying no because she thinks Tom is asking her out

hello

combined with another request (hope you don’t mind)

Reader is dating Harry & Nikki like doesn’t her because she’s tom’s love interest in a movie. Harry & Tom defend reader

wc: a fat 3k (sorry lmfao took this too far)

—

When you were first called in for a dry run through of a script that would later be your next movie, you didn’t expect Marvel’s very own Spider-man to be there too. Of course, he didn’t expect you there either, but you were still pleasantly surprised that the director had called in for willing or suggested actors. 

The two of you immediately hit it off, clicking on screen and off screen. And though you were playing lovers in front of the camera, your relationship with Tom was strictly platonic — and you were glad he was on the same page. 

That didn’t, however, mean Tom wasn’t completely involved with your love life. After returning to your trailer directly after a date, Tom was waiting for you — and wondering where the hell you’d been. You confessed you’d gone out with someone, but the date wasn’t smooth and they weren’t your type at all. The date went pretty badly, and Tom pointed out later. Ever since then, he’d ask you if you were going on another date. 

It had been a month and a half since then, and though you were ready for a relationship mentally, you knew it might be hard with all the press you and Tom would be doing around the world. You weren’t sure why you would be going on tour, though — it was a recreation of Sandra Bullock’s film While You Were Sleeping. Tom and you were popular enough as it was — a tour simply didn’t seem necessary. But, alas, you complied with your manager’s advice. 

“Sooo…” Tom followed you into your trailer. It was around eight o’clock, and he was using the voice he used whenever he wanted something from you. “Are you seeing anybody?”

It had been about two weeks since the last time he’d asked, and you were already rolling your eyes. “No, Tom. I’m not interested in whatever offer you’re about to make.”

“But Y/N!” He whined, pouting. “I know somebody who’s perfect for you!”

“As perfect for me as Andrew from the Uncharted crew?” You raise a brow, setting your purse down while Tom huffs. 

“He wasn’t that bad! How was I supposed to know that he doesn’t wash his beard?” “That seems like common knowledge to me, Tom!” You’re trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the conversation. “I could smell it from across the table!”

“Alright, alright.” Tom winces at the details. “I’m sorry about that one. But this time, I’m sure of it.”

“I swear to god if you pull some weird cliche shit and say yourself, I’m going to kick you out of my trailer.” You deadpan, pouring yourself from coffee from the brewer he’d just used while you were out. 

“It’s not me, Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, but you keep giving me dates with people that aren’t my type and then saying you have someone better. What if you’re buttering me up?” You smirk from behind the mug, sipping it smoothly. He rolls his eyes, but blushes nonetheless. 

“It’s not me.”

“Whatever you say, Spidey.”

He rolls his eyes again, sighing dramatically before heading towards the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“For what? Our date?”

“Quit teasing me!” He spins around, body halfway out the trailer entrance. “I meant ‘I’ll see you on set.’” You laugh wholeheartedly, waving to the brunette as he leaves you alone for the night. When you awake, you’re due early for a shower and straight to hair and makeup. You’re not sure why your character always wakes up so damn early just to work in a train station, but you comply with the director. 

“G’morning.” You greet the assistant director with a smile, bagel in one hand and your script in the other. 

“Morning,” He smiles before offering you some coffee. “Coffee?”

“Please?” You smile wider at the mention of the beverage, internally cheering as he makes your order — he’s memorized all of the crew’s by now, and it’s truly astonishing. You take up a conversation with him while you wait for your day to begin. 

Tom comes in through the double doors, spotting you immediately — with another boy. He races over as quickly as he can manage with his tired body and with what’s left of his dignity. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but he really thinks he’s found a promising boyfriend for you. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He greets before his jaw clenches subtly. “Morning Conor.” 

Conor nods at him before pouring another cup of coffee for the Brit. You’re rolling your eyes at Tom — you know him well enough to know when he’s feeling anything but positively. 

“Excuse us,” You smile apologetically at Conor. “I have a part of the script I’d like to talk to Tom about before we start.” Conor nods understandingly, and you pull Tom aside, walking behind the sets while you angrily sip your coffee. “Y’know, you don’t have to be so dry to the crew that happens to talk to me.”

“I wasn’t dry!” Tom defends, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket. 

“Then what do you call that?” You gesture behind you with the roll of your eyes. “I thought we were on the same page about our relationship, here. I don’t like you in a romantical way, and I’d prefer it if you’d keep that base of our relationship out of work.”

“Y/N, Y/N.” He’s wide eyed, hands gesturing for you to slow down and listen to him. “I don’t like you in that way. I just… think I know somebody who you’ll really get along with.”

You groan. “Tom, you’re a shit matchmaker. Y’know that?” He gasps at your response, feigning offense. “Look, I’m being real with you! Nobody you’ve set me up with has lasted more than a week. You suck at this job, Cupid.”

Tom rolls his eyes but stops you from walking any further, grasping your arm to turn you in his exact direction. “Look, just trust me on this one?”

You ponder the idea almost with your body, head tilting in unsureness. “I don’t know…”

“Please,” He’s practically whining now. “Please, just… one more date?”

“Fine.” “Yay.” He smiles in victory just as the two of you are called back onto set. With heavy feet, you drag yourself to set, but this time, you can’t help but feel a little hopeful. Don’t fuck this up, Cupid.

**

You’d wrapped up filming last week, and the director’s were quite positive you wouldn’t need to come back in later for reshoots. So, you were flying out of Chicago and down to Atlanta with Tom for the weekend. He was going to “introduce you to his next option.” You still didn’t trust him, but you didn’t have any immediate projects, so you agreed anyways.

Tom was due to start filming Spider-man 3 on the upcoming Monday, so you knew you’d be going to the airport alone on your last night — that is, if things didn’t work out with this new date. 

After receiving a text from Tom to be ready by eight o’clock, you’d showered and done your makeup. Settling on an outfit wasn’t as difficult because you had only what you brought with you. You were driving down to Tom’s rental home — apparently Marvel Studios always rented him that one — by seven forty-five. You were driving a rental car, and you mentally kicked yourself for not bringing a jacket in the middle of winter. 

Parking in the open driveway, you rang the doorbell. Tom swung the door open, hair slicked back and trousers fitted nicely. You rolled your eyes with a groan, and before Tom could even greet you, you complained. 

“Tom, I told you I’m not going on a fucking date with you- please ju-”

“No, no, no, love.” He laughed. “C’mon in, it’s game night with me and the boys. Your boy is inside waiting for you.”

You looked at him skeptically before walking up the steps and through the door. Tom led you through a rather modern-looking house, through an extremely large kitchen and into a back den room with a poker table. You rolled your eyes, but your facade dropped in the immediate moment where all eyes turned to you. 

“Guys, this is Y/N, my co-star in that rom-com we just wrapped.” You saw Zendaya smile and wave, Jacob greeting you with a cheerful “hi!” and then you saw a freckled boy with red hair and immediately felt butterflies tickle your stomach. “Y/N, this is Harry. The guy I told you about.”

You wanted to curse at Tom for practically keeping this guy a secret. You wanted to curse him for setting you up with all those other tramps instead of this gorgeous boy right here. You wanted to curse at Tom for-

“This is my brother, Harry. Harry, this is Y/N, the girl I told you about.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out at his words, for reasons being that this “Harry” is his brother and that he’s talked about you to him. Keep your cool, Y/N.

“Uh, hi.” You nervously laugh, stepping forward to shake his hand. Harry smirks at you, hand reaching up as his lanky fingers make contact with yours, shaking from his seat without even standing. 

“Hey.” His voice is deeper than Tom’s and it catches you by surprise. Tom had told you about his three younger brothers, but he never mentioned specific details like the ones you’re noticing now. 

“Right then,” Tom clasps his hands together. “Y/N, you can share the seat with Harry while I get the drinks.”

You nod and try not to come off as too flustered, heart pounding against your chest, palms sweating. They’ve pulled up a loveseat to the poker table, suitable for two people, or two lovers. You wince at your own self, wanting to kick yourself again. But you don’t, instead sliding in next to Harry. He smiles, removing the toothpick that was sitting on the side of his mouth, sticking out like a truck driver. He throws it, and it lands directly into the garbage bin. You bite your lip and begin the game. 

You end up staying in Atlanta for a lot longer than your two-day trip for the weekend. You’re there for a total of four weeks, and you’ve spent practically every hour with Harry. You were in a hotel for the first four and a half days before Tom had groaned at you leaving at one in the morning again, telling you to stay in Harry’s room and stop wasting your money on lousy hotels. The proposition made you giddy inside (and nervous, but they didn’t need to know that), and when Harry smirked at the idea, encouraging it too, you agreed.

So, you spent practically four weeks in Harry’s room, giggling at jokes and cuddling and watching movies and taking pictures. He’d taken you to set too, showing you around, talking nonstop about his cameras and their many different lenses. 

The Spider-man crew was dispersing for a two week break, and Harry had already decided that you were going with him and Tom back to London. 

“Love, are you ready?” Harry called for you from the bathroom connected to his bedroom. You shouted back your reply, zipping up your final suitcase while he walked back into the room. 

You knew that after your trip to London, Harry would have to go back to work and you’d have to go home before starting your next project. But you didn’t care — the two of you had already discussed long distance relationships before confirming yours; you could make it work. 

You would land in London by your two-month mark, you realized with a smile. Harry gave you a forehead kiss before talking both of your suitcases downstairs to the car. You grabbed the duffel bags and followed him out of the room where it all began. 

The flight was exhausting but nostalgic in a weird sense. You spent the latter half of it curled up into Harry’s side, asleep or watching a movie. When you finally boarded off the aircraft, you went straight to Harry’s flat without protest. Normally, you’d fight about checking into a hotel so you wouldn’t catch anyone unprepared, but you were too tired to care. 

Now, it’s been a day since your flight and you’ve promised Harry — and Tom — that you’ll go with him to their parents’ house for some lunch. You admit that you’re nervous and that it’s probably too soon to be meeting parents, but you pay no mind as you’re entering Holland's childhood home. 

“Mum!” Sam, Harry’s twin who you’ve just been introduced to, yells out. “They’re here!”

You hear excited squeals as Sam leads the three of you through and into the kitchen. Nikki’s back is turned when you enter, but she excitedly turns around to greet her sons. She’s taken off-guard at the sight of you next to Harry, but still leans in to tightly hug her sons, who she hasn’t seen in quite awhile. 

“And who’s this?” She inquires, gesturing in your direction. You’re a little taken aback at how unwelcoming she seems to be acting, but you shake it off as nerves. 

“Mum,” Harry smiles, a hand on the small of your back, nudging you a little closer to him and his mother. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

The whisk in her hand seems to stop mixing the recipe in the bowl. Your smile falters slightly, but Tom fills the silence at Nikki’s ajar mouth. 

“Mum, she’s- uh, she’s my co-star in that rom-com I got casted for. Remember?”

“Oh,” She smiles a tight-lipped one, and you can tell it’s forced and fake. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Nikki.” She wipes a hand off on her apron before extending it for you to shake. You accept the offer with a hesitant but genuine smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” She hums but doesn’t respond, instead turning her attention to Tom. You make eye contact with Harry worriedly, and he shakes his head, bewildered. He kisses your temple before sending you in to meet Paddy and talk to Sam — somebody who actually welcomed you. 

The day goes on like this, and though the tension is most obviously present, you don’t touch the subject, knowing it’s not your place or your home, especially since you came almost unannounced. You don’t want to be angry with a woman you barely know, so you try not to mirror her feelings.

“So, Y/N,” She directs her attention to you for the first time all day. You look up from your intertwined hands with a smile. 

“Yea-”

“Did you just decide Tom wasn’t good enough based on his character and then move on to my next son?”

You’re shocked, mouth ajar as you blink. “W- what?”

“Tom told me about how many ‘date failures’ you had until you finally settled on Harry.”

You want to curse at Harry for offering to refill your drink, and you want to curse at Tom for spilling the secrets of your dating life. “I- I didn’t settle for anyone.”

“That’s not what my son says.”

Just then, both boys walk in together, laughing in conversation about something. You’re already crying, but the minute the door opens you stand abruptly, nearly knocking Harry off his feet. 

He laughs at you, “Love? What’s u-” But he’s cut short when he notices your red eyes and fresh tears. He sets the glasses down, wiping your cheeks and grabbing both of your hands. “What happened? Hm?” He’s shushing you, trying his best to calm you down. “C’mon, angel. Tell me.” 

“Your- your mom just said a few things.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrows, and so do Tom’s. They turn to look at the woman in the chair skeptically, questions flying out immediately. 

“Mum? What did you say to her?” 

You excuse yourself, not wanting to be a part of the conversation just yet. You run off to the bathroom to freshen up while Harry and Tom talk to Nikki. 

“Harry, I’m just being a protective mother, okay? I didn’t say anything that bad.” 

“Mum, you made her fucking cry.” Harry’s fuming, nostrils flaring while he glares at his mom. 

“Don’t talk that way with me.” She points her finger at her son. “That girl is no good for you.”

“Mum, I introduced them.” Tom says. “I know her; she is good.”

“Not if she has to settle for Harry.” She clicks her tongue. “I remember all those dates you told me she went on, Tom.” She sighs while he scoffs. “Anyone that tries that hard to find a boyfriend is out for other things.”

“That’s bullshit.” Harry interjects. “She’s an actress, of course dating is hard.”

Nikki purses her lips but doesn’t reply. 

“Mum, she’s crying.” Tom says softly, seemingly trying a different approach. “You haven’t talked to her at all, today. I think you shouldn’t have judged her too quickly.”

“Apologize.” Harry says finally before standing up. “Apologize or we’re leaving.” He walks out of the room, heading to the bathroom where you’re hidden away, sitting on the toilet while you catch your breath. He knocks, coming in with your permission. 

He pouts when he sees your tear-stained face, face puffy and eyes red while you sniffle. 

“‘M sorry.” You grumble the words while he kneels in front of you. 

“What’re you sorry for, baby?”

“For causing all this drama.”

“Hey, hey,” His thumb rubs across your knuckles. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She had no right to say those things to you.” You look at him as he finishes, engulfing him quickly, crying into his shoulder while he catches you with his arms, holding you against his chest lovingly. After a few minutes, there’s a knock at the door, and Tom’s voice rings through. 

“Mum says she wants to talk to you guys.”

Harry makes eye contact with you apologetically, thumb still moving across the skin of your hand. 

“Well,” he stands tall. “Shall we?” You wipe your cheeks one final time before standing with him, taking the hand he offered you as you head for the bathroom door. 

“Guess there’s no avoiding this part if she’s going to be my future mother-in-law.” 

Harry sucks in a breath, and as you make eye contact with a smirk, there’s a glint in his eyes that acknowledges that you’re feeling better. He smirks back, opening the door for you as you head back into the living room. 

Keep your cool, Y/N. You inhale a deep breath, emerging into the room. Keep your cool. 

[the-modernmary]

to be enough || aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: During a movie night with your boyfriend Aaron, you accidentally stumbled onto his old wedding video, and it makes you wonder if you could ever compete with his first love?

A/N: This was an anonymous request, thank you SO MUCH for sending this in!! It’s my first request and it was so much fun to write!! I love soft Hotch so, so much. I’m sorry this took so long to get out. I was sick on and off for like two weeks straight, it was a whole thing. I hope you like this!!

masterlist || read on ao3

“I’ll make popcorn and open the wine, you pick the movie. We’ll meet back on the couch in ten minutes,” Aaron said quickly as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before making his way to his kitchen.

  You giggled at your boyfriend’s eagerness as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. Truth be told, you couldn’t blame him, though. It was rare that the two of you ever really got the chance to just hang out at his apartment. Whenever Aaron was home, he liked to spend as much free time with his son as possible, which you completely understood. So between spending time with Jack and Aaron being away on cases, you lived for these small moments of alone time and domesticity. 

  “You might regret letting me pick the movie, my love,” you called to him jokingly as you sat down in front of his TV, looking for where the remote was hiding. “I am very loyal to my early 2000’s chick flicks.”

  The sound of Aaron’s laughter floating through his apartment made your heart swell. He had never been the tough, FBI unit chief around you, but he was also rarely so carefree and light. There was always a shield around him, especially with the way he would carefully choose his words so as to not give away too much of himself. He was always so guarded and unwavering.

  Aaron poked his head out of the kitchen, hair falling in his eyes. “In the interest of honesty, I’m fully planning on moving this to the bedroom before we even get halfway through the movie,” he admitted, his voice carrying even over the sound of popcorn in the microwave.

You giggled again and shook your head fondly, unable to stop the smile spread across your face at his words. Seeing him be so playful was like a gift — always a surprise, but never unwelcome. You lived for those small glimpses of the man you knew he was.

  Aaron went back to choosing the perfect movie night wine and you settled on the couch, turning on the TV and ready to pick out the goofiest, most feel-good movie you could find. Before you could pull Netflix up, however, the DVD that was already in the television began playing.

  The film was grainy and the camera work was shaky at best, so you weren’t sure exactly what you were watching at first. There was a church in the background and men dressed in nice suits. Kids dressed in their Sunday best ran around in the grass. The camera panned over to a couple who were clearly getting married, going by the big white dress the woman was wearing.

  The camera zoomed in on the couple and your heart dropped to your stomach, because there, right in the center of the screen was Aaron. It was a much younger version of him, of course, probably law school, but it was definitely him. 

  Oh god, this was his wedding video. Which meant that the beautiful, blushing bride wrapped in his arms and making him throw his head back in laughter was Haley.

  Aaron had told you about Haley and everything that had happened between the two of them right up to her murder pretty early on in your relationship with him, but then it was never really mentioned again. But you had heard the whispers on nights out with his team, listened to them all gossip amongst themselves about how “I never thought Hotch was ever going to move on?” .

  Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to change the film before Aaron came back into the living room, you couldn’t help but watch in morbid fascination. The Aaron on the screen was so different from the man you had come to love.

  You watched as the film Aaron spun Haley in circles and peppered her entire face in kisses. The entire time, they never once stopped touching each other, even if it was something as simple as holding each other’s hands. Aaron kept glancing over at Haley with the biggest heart eyes you had ever seen, and it was nothing like the way Aaron had ever looked at you. Even when the couple was supposed to be paying attention to the people giving speeches around them, Haley and Aaron kept sneaking glances at each other, mouthing “I love you” like it was the only thing they could think to say.

  Aaron looked so happy and so free and it was so unlike the man in the other room. In the year and a half you had been dating him, you had never seen Aaron with a smile so big. He never gave you PDA so freely, and it wasn’t something you realized you even wanted until you saw him do it with somebody else. Suddenly, you wanted to feel young and reckless and dizzy in love the way he looked back in the film.

  It was unfair to ask him to live every day with you feeling like it was his wedding day, and you knew it. Still, something stirred inside of you that made you crave for Aaron to look at you like that, even just once.

  What you had with Aaron now was safe and a certifiable “adult” relationship. Not to say it wasn’t nice, and there was plenty of passion and fun in it. All of your friends constantly expressed how envious they were that you had found somebody who was so stable yet still unpredictable and could sweep you off your feet with romantic dates under the stars. Being with Aaron felt like home for you, and you had always thought that he felt the same, although now you weren’t sure. It had never occurred to you that Aaron may not have ever really gotten over his first love.

  The microwave beeped, signaling that the popcorn was done and that Aaron would be back in the living room at any second, and you quickly switched the TV to Netflix, clicking whatever movie popped up first, not even bothering to look at the title. 

  Just in time, too, because not long after, Aaron made his way over to the couch, precariously carrying a bowl of popcorn, two wine glasses, and a bottle of a sweet red wine that had become a go-to for you both. He generally preferred red wine, but you hated the dryness of it and basically only drank sweet, dessert wines, so when the two of you found this one, it had seemed like fate. Most of your relationship with him felt like fate, honestly.

  You forced yourself not to think about the fact that Aaron was happily drinking white wine in the wedding video.

  “Either the definition of ‘chick flick’ has changed drastically,” Aaron started, plopping down next to you. “Or Mad Max is very different from what I remember.”

  “I decided to change it up, put on a movie neither of us will be invested in,” you lied, desperately fighting to keep your voice even. “That way we can move right into the bedroom portion of the night.”

  “I like the way you think, sweetheart,” he chuckled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. His thigh was pressed against yours, but even then, he felt a million miles away from you.

  It was unfair to get so worked up over this whole wedding video thing, and you knew that. His time with Haley had ended long before he had even met you, and logically, you knew that people could fall in love multiple times. Still, that didn’t quell the anxiety that was bubbling in your stomach, making you queasy.

  Why was he even watching that video, anyway? Did he often sit right there on the very couch you were cuddling with him on and rewatch the happiest day of his life? After a date with you, did he ever come home conflicted about his own emotions and feeling guilty for moving on, and go down memory lane to remind himself who his real true love was? 

  You kept thinking about how giddy he had looked in that video, and how easy it had seemed for him to be with her. And Haley… God, how could you compete?

  She was stunning, no doubt about it, with her blonde hair and bright eyes that shined, even through shitty 90’s video camera quality. The pink on her soft-looking lips only seemed to make Aaron want to kiss them more and more, maybe to see if he could smudge her lipstick. It never once budged, though, because of course it didn’t. She seemed too perfect to have faded lipstick on her wedding day. She had floated across the makeshift dance floor, like a fucking Disney princess leaving a trail of fairy dust and sunshine everywhere she went. Everything about her seemed soft and kind and good, all things you had never once associated with yourself.

  It was no surprise that Aaron had decided he was going to marry her from the first time he saw her, as he had said in his vows. She was everything you could have ever wanted to be, and clearly, she was everything Aaron had ever wanted.

  Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your rapid descent into crippling insecurity. “I can hear you thinking from here, honey.”

  You took a long sip of your wine, avoiding his piercing gaze. “I’m just concentrating on the movie,” you lied.

  “The movie you picked specifically so that we didn’t have to pay attention?” he retorted, eyebrows raised. Really, you should have known better than to try and give him such a blatant lie. Aaron reached over you to grab the remote and paused the movie, placing his hand lightly on your knee. “What’s going on?”

  How could you even explain what you were feeling? It definitely wasn’t jealousy, although you almost wished it was. At least with jealousy, you could push it to the side as an awful, gross feeling that comes from years of internalized misogyny and being told that other women are inherently competition for the attention of men. You could deal with that feeling.

  But it wasn’t that at all. Despite Aaron’s obvious devotion to her, you found it hard (and a little twisted, if you were being completely honest) to be jealous of a woman who was violently murdered in her own home in front of her young child. Besides, jealousy would imply that you and Haley were on somewhat equal ground, which you so clearly weren’t. 

  Haley was his high school sweetheart, the love of his life, the woman he had chosen to have children with, and you…

  Well, at one point you thought you could have been that, too, but now you were faced with the fear that you were nothing more than a person to fill the hole in his heart that Haley had left. Even worse, however, was the sinking feeling that you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be enough to fill it completely. 

  “It’s stupid,” you stuttered out, avoiding Aaron’s eyes, which were so full of concern. That was the worst part. It would be one thing if Aaron didn’t love you, but he did love you. Just not in the way he loved her. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

  “I—” You cut yourself off with a sigh and shifted on the couch so that you were facing him. “Am I enough for you?”

  Aaron looked about as taken aback by your question as you felt. You hadn’t meant to burst through the gate with that particular insecurity.

  “Are you enough for me?” he repeated slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, like the question didn’t make any sense. In all honesty, it probably didn’t. “If you mean ‘am I happy with you’, then yes. Incredibly. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

  That should have made you feel better, but it wasn’t the answer you were looking for. You absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on your sweater. “I saw your wedding video,” you admitted shamefully. It felt like you were a little kid getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “And, I don’t know… You looked so happy and so… alive with her. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime love, Aaron. I’m never going to be able to be that for you.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, and for a moment you were worried that he was going to get angry at you for watching the video. Maybe you had tainted that one happy memory for him. But the lines on his face softened just a bit and he covered your hand with both of his.

  “Have you always felt like this?” he asked cautiously, attempting to keep all emotion off his face. “Like you’re not… enough?”

  You shrugged. “Sometimes. If I think about it too much. Especially when we first started dating. But never this intense. I guess since I had only heard stories of her, it was almost like she didn’t exist? But now that I’ve seen her and how you looked at her… I love you so much and I want you to be happy, but I’m scared I can’t be that for you. I’m sorry if I’ve crossed a line, but this has been eating me up from the inside for a while now and I—”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Aaron cut you off mid-ramble, and you took a shuddering breath. Guilt was written all over him, which made you want to crawl into a hole and never be heard from again. “Have I done anything to make you think I’m unhappy?”

  “No, of course not! You’ve been nothing but wonderful. But I’m not Haley. I can’t make you as happy as she made you. And maybe this is selfish of me, but it hurts to know that you don’t love me the way you loved her.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, but he still held on tightly to your hand. “I didn’t think you would want me to,” he said, and now it was your turn to be confused.

  You could practically see the gears turning in Aaron’s mind as he tried to find the right words to verbalize the floodgate of emotions that had just opened. Being vulnerable and open about his feelings wasn’t something he was very comfortable with, and it definitely didn't come easy for him. The fact that he was trying and willing gave you some comfort.

  “What I mean to say is…” he backtracked. “You’re right. You’re not Haley and the way I loved her is different from the way I love you. I love you differently because you’re different. And I’m different now, too. But different doesn’t mean less, and it never has. I would never want you to think that you’re just some consolation prize.”

  He was looking at you with such intensity and sincerity that you could have cried. “It’s just that when I realized you had been rewatching your wedding, I kept thinking that maybe she was your one love,” you explained nervously. “I don’t know what that leaves me.”

  Aaron took your hand that he was holding and moved it so that it rested on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. “My love isn’t finite. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

  You melted into his touch, and it was like the sun came peeking through the storm clouds. He didn’t have the exact same expression that 25-year-old him did on the wedding video, but it was something close. Maybe even something more. It was warm and inviting and felt like coming home after a long day. 

  “You’ve been nothing but the picture-perfect boyfriend,” you assured. “This is all me and my own insecurities. I saw that you had been watching the video and I just… spiraled, I guess.”

  Aaron mindlessly rubbed his thumb back and forth on your hand. “I should probably explain why I was watching it, then.”

  “God, no, you don’t owe me any explanations for what you—”

  “I was showing Jack,” Aaron interrupted, his voice soft. “He doesn’t remember her that much, and he definitely doesn’t remember when we were married. Most of his memories are of fighting or divorced parents. I wanted to show him that his parents loved each other.”

  Your face went hot as embarrassment spread through you. “Wow, that makes perfect sense and I feel like an idiot,” you breathed. “I’m sorry.”

  Aaron pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he stood up from the couch. “You’re not an idiot, and you have nothing to be sorry for,” he promised. “Come on, let’s get changed into something a little nicer.”

  You looked down in confusion as your movie night outfit. “Why?”

  A mischievous glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes as he bent down and gave you another kiss, one much less chaste than the one before. “Because,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m going to take you on a date and show you just how much I love you.”

[babybluebex]

the proposal [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: ceo!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 3.9k ➽ summary:your pushy boss forces you, his assitant, to marry him in order to keep his visa status and avoid deportation.  ➽ warnings: forced marriage?? except not really?? ➽ a/n: this is loosely based off the sandra bullock movie of the same name which i recommend you watch bc it’s good classic rom com, but i just see tom being a dickhead and bodying this

I gasped as hot coffee spilled down my front, and I looked at the mail cart that had run into me. “Sorry,” the person steering the cart shrugged, and he continued on his way, totally unaware that he had just ruined my day. I gritted my teeth and looked down at my black-coffee stained shirt, knowing that my boss would be out of his morning coffee, had I not ordered a second. I always ordered a second coffee in case a disaster like this occurred. Mr. Holland could be just awful sometimes, and I only made the mistake of forgetting his coffee once. 

The door to the office opened, and I looked to see my boss striding in. Mr. Thomas Holland was one of the foremost editor-in-chiefs in the world, and he was deserving of it. While he was a great editor-in-chief, he was the meanest man I had ever met. He expected everything to be just his way and, if they weren’t, he would work to make it that way. Past assistants had been fired for less than forgetting a coffee. 

I followed him into his office for his morning briefing, and a single sculpted eyebrow lifted at the stain on my shirt. “Rough morning, Y/N?” he asked with a laugh. I kept my comments to myself and handed him his coffee, and he sat down at his desk.

“You could say that, sir,” I mumbled. “You have a meeting at eleven, and Penguin needs that manuscript by tomorrow--” 

“Who is Jake?” Mr. Holland asked suddenly. “And why does he want me to call him?”

I stopped talking and noticed my boss staring at the coffee that was at first mine, and my face went pale. Written on my cup was the name of the barista that made my coffee every morning, along with his phone number. Mr. Holland looked at me, expecting an answer, and the look in his blue eyes made me want to puke. “Oh,” I stuttered. “That is-- He’s--”

“Do I want to know?” Tom asked. 

“No, it’s better if you don’t,” I replied. “Um, also, you got a call from Immigration Services last night. They need you to come in and do some paperwork.” 

“I sent it in last week,” Tom said cooly, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Not according to them,” I said. “Umm… Can I ask a question, sir?”

“You just did,” Tom said. His dark eyes stared deep into me, and I held down my shiver. 

I sighed. “You know what I mean,” I said. “I thought you were a citizen?”

“Nope,” Tom replied, popping his lips. “I’m in America on a work visa. What time do they want me to come in?” 

“They said ‘at your earliest convenience’,” I told him. 

Tom sighed. “Let’s go get this over with,” he mumbled. “Umm… You might want a change of clothes.” 

I looked down at my stained shirt and huffed out a frustrated grunt, and Tom scoffed. “Alright, then,” he chuckled plaintively, his London accent rolling off of his tongue. I wasn’t blind, I knew that my boss was attractive— a strong jaw that was always clean shaven, brown eyes that shifted golden in the right light, and dark hair, usually styled down with just the ends showing their true curly nature. He was tall and built like a Greek god, and his wonderful accented voice would have been appealing if the words he said with it didn’t cut right through me. Some would say Mr. Thomas Holland was mean; others would say he was blunt. I would say he’s just a dick. “Don’t have to get so worked up.” 

“I—“ I began and sighed. “I don’t have a change of clothes.” 

Tom cocked his head thoughtfully. “Have you ever seen The Bodyguard?” he asked. When I didn’t respond, he said, “It’s a show on the BBC, I should have known you wouldn’t have seen it.” With that, he pulled off his jacket and draped it against his desk chair, and he loosened his tie around his neck. 

“Mr. Holland, what are you doing?” I asked quickly, jerking forward to stop him. 

He looked at me with those honey eyes as he set his tie on his desk. “I am giving you the shirt off of my back,” he said. “Like the kind soul I am.”

I nearly protested, but I knew that he had a spare; I had brought it from the dry cleaners two days ago. I searched for something to say to him as he disrobed, and the sight of his bare chest made me say “Thank you. It is very kind.” 

“Most would say uncharacteristic,” Tom said, handing his shirt. The hand clutching his shirt had a shining watch on the wrist, and, while the sight was enticing, it only served to remind me of how late we were going to be. The shirt was still warm from him having worn it, and he crossed the room to retrieve his spare from the storage closet. 

“Most would,” I agreed. I pulled my blazer off and began to undo my shirt, but I felt as if Tom was staring at me. I looked over my shoulder to him, already doing up the buttons on his shirt, and his eyes lifted to mine. 

“Do you need help, Y/N?” Tom asked, a snide bite to his words. 

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Can you…” I started. “Ya know, turn around?” 

Tom scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Americans are so prudish,” he said. “I undressed in front of you, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, but it’s different,” I said. “Just close your eyes, something, please.” 

Tom laughed lightly, and he made a show of covering his eyes with his hands. “Is that better?” 

I rolled my eyes. It would have to be good enough. I pulled my shirt off and exchanged it for his and, once I was fully dressed again, I said, “Alright. Thank you.” 

“Great,” Tom said and uncovered his eyes. “Are you ready to go now?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Sure.”

Once we arrived at the Immigration office, Tom was brought in almost immediately, and he had me come in to take notes. A secretary’s job is never done, I guess. I stood by the door as he sat before the officer, and I watched the scene unfold before me. 

“Mr. Holland, you’re here on a work visa,” the officer began. “Which means you’re not allowed to leave the country.”

“Yes,” Tom said, and he raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And you went to an international book fair…” the officer began as he shuffled some papers around. “In Germany, last month.”

Tom scoffed and flipped his tie in annoyance. “It was for my job,” he said. “Can’t I go to work functions?” 

“Not when it violates the rules of your visa,” the officer said. “Because you violated those rules, you have to leave the country and go back to your home country for one year.”

Tom straightened in his seat suddenly and gave a laugh. “I can’t do that,” he said seriously. “I can’t work from a different country for a full year. I’d lose my job.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Holland, but it’s federal law,” the officer said. “The only way you can stay in the country is if you get married by the end of this month, and--”

I had worked for Thomas Holland for a long time. I knew him well. I knew what shampoo he used, what pants size he wore, and, most importantly, I knew what he looked like when he got an idea. His chin went up, his shoulders went back, and he smiled. He rarely smiled, at least where I was concerned. “Um, yeah, w-what if I am getting married?” Tom asked. “What-What then?”

“Well, it would have to be filed appropriately and the service would need to be witnessed,” the officer said. “But, if everything was legal, you would be allowed to stay in the country.”

Tom turned around to look at me and he gestured for me to step closer. “C’mere, darling,” he said, and his honey eyes widened at me. “Don’t be shy, c’mon.” He turned back to the officer and gave a smile to him. “She’s so shy, it’s adorable.”

I stepped closer to him, and Tom stood up and wrapped his arm around my waist. I was confused as hell about what he was doing, but it clicked when he captured my chin between his forefinger and thumb and planted a quick kiss to my mouth. Oh fuck. If he was fired, I would be out of a job too. I needed Tom to stay in the country, which meant that he had to get married. And who better to marry than somebody who already knows everything about you? Fuck. That’s me. “You two?” the immigration officer asked. “Is she not your secretary?”

“She is, yes,” Tom said, and he laughed nervously. “But it wouldn’t be the first time that someone fell for their secretary, would it?” He then gave a deep laugh, and I quickly giggled to ease the tension. “Yes, no, but… Y/N and I are getting married. We were planning on a spring wedding-- you know how girls and spring weddings are-- but we could fast-track it, if it keeps me here… With her.” 

The immigration officer raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he said. “Where is your ring?”

I looked down at my hands, certainly missing an engagement ring. “Oh, umm…” I began. “Well, you see, we don’t want our coworkers to know yet. Seeing as I’m being promoted to editor, we thought it would be inappropriate for our relationship to be… Known to the office. I have a ring, but I don’t wear it.”

“Yes, editor…” Tom began and looked at me, a flash of annoyance crossing his face for just a moment. “Sure, yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Alright, Ms. Y/L/N,” the immigration officer began. “You do understand that, if you are caught in a lie, it’s five years in a federal prison?”

I nodded and gave a tight smile. “Good thing we’re not lying.”

I watched Tom as we left the building and, once we were outside, I stopped walking. “Wanna explain that?” I called. 

Tom stopped and turned on his heel, his phone already pressed to his ear. “What is it?” He asked. “I’m on a call.”

I huffed and pulled his phone away. “Mr. Holland has business to attend to,” I said. “He’ll call back.” I hung up and shoved the phone into my pocket, and I crossed my arms. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Tom asked, and I gestured back to the building with a huff. “Oh. It’s the only way for me to stay in the country and keep my job. We’ll get a legal marriage by the end of the month, then, when the appropriate amount of time passes, I’ll set up a quickie divorce and you can forget that this funny little thing ever happened.”

“What if I don’t want to get married?” I asked. “What about my boyfriend?”

Tom scoffed. “As if you have a boyfriend.” 

“Hey!” I cried. “You don’t know that!”

“You wake up at four in the morning, every morning, in order to get ready and get my breakfast,” Tom rattled off. “You work from eight to four every day, most times until five. You are on call at all times; your phone never rings twice before you answer it, especially if I am calling you. You bring me food at one in the morning if I need it. No boyfriend would be okay with a work schedule like that. So, Y/N, unless you have any other unfounded issues with this, I suggest we start to learn things about each other that an engaged couple would know.” 

“No.” 

“No?” Tom repeated. 

I smiled sweetly. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what?” Tom asked with a grimace. 

“Ask me nicely to marry you,” I said. 

Tom gave me a look of boredom, and he rolled his eyes before he took my hand. “Will you please marry me?” He asked, his voice full of sarcasm. 

“No, no,” I said. “Down on one knee. You’re an Englishman, Mr. Holland, have some manners, for God’s sake.” 

“Y/N--” Tom began. 

“I wonder what airfare is like to London,” I began. “And moving all your stuff over there, it’ll take forever.” 

Tom sighed heavily, and he looked around us at the busy New York street corner. “Damn it, Y/N,” he mumbled, and he worked himself down to kneel on one knee. “Y/N, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars, my darling girl. Provider of late-night sushi and witty comebacks. Will you please marry me, with cherries on top?” 

I chuckled lightly. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but yes,” I said. “I will marry you… Tom.” 

“Well, thank God you’re on time.” 

“I know, it’s shocking,” I chirped. “It’s almost as if I haven’t been reminding you of appointments for the past few years.”

Tom gave a shallow laugh and welcomed me into his apartment. I had been a few times-- he didn’t call me ‘provider of late-night sushi’ in his proposal for nothing-- but never long enough to take in the place. It was nice, a lot nicer than the apartment I lived in. In my apartment, I could extend my arms all the way and touch either side of my living space. 

“We have a lot of work to do,” Tom said. He wore mostly the same outfit from the day, sans the jacket and tie and the first two buttons on his shirt. It yawned open to expose his chest, dusted with thin, light hair, and, under normal circumstances, I would have liked the sight. Absolutely nothing about this was normal, though. “We have to learn enough about each other to pass the questionnaire that the immigration department is giving us.”

“Won’t be hard for me to do,” I said. “It might be difficult for you, Tom.”

“Nothing is difficult for me, Y/N,” Tom laughed. “Right, we can start right there: what’s my legal name?”

“Thomas Stanley Holland,” I replied. “Son of Dominic and Nicola.”

Tom blinked in surprise a few times, and nodded slowly. “How did you know that?” He asked.

“I had to fill out paperwork for you to make an appearance at a book signing about three years ago,” I said. “One of the forms asked for a middle name, so I asked you, and you told me that exactly.”

Tom nodded. “Umm… My birthday?”

“June 1,” I said. “You’re a Gemini, even though you think astrology is fake.”

“How do you--”

“For the past couple of years, you always sneer at the horoscope section of any magazine,” I told him. “It’s not hard to figure out what you think of it.” 

“You’re right,” Tom said slowly. He looked over to a pad of paper with his scribbled writing on it, and he picked it up and scanned the list. “I found this list online… A list of questions similar to what they’ll ask us. Alright, there’s no way you know this: my childhood nickname?”

“Which one, Dutchy or Billy?” 

“How in the fuck do you--”

“On your last birthday, you got a letter in the mail from your mom,” I began. “It was addressed to Dutchy. That was easy; Holland, Dutch, Dutchy. Kinda cute, actually.”

“And Billy?” Tom winced. “How did you find out about that?”

“One of your old uni friends works for a publishing company in Glasgow,” I said. “You sent him a letter to catch up-- but really to get him to do something for you-- and you signed it Billy.”

“Do you know why I was called that?” Tom asked. His honey eyes were unwavering as he watched me, and he seemed to deflate when I shook my head. 

“I have no idea,” I said. “If it’s anything like my college nickname, it came from a night of drinking and something unfortunate happened.” 

“What was your college nickname?” Tom asked, suddenly amused. 

“Oh, right, you don’t know everything about me,” I laughed. “Well… It was DongNose. My senior year, me and some friends decided to go to a-a… Ha, a male strip club. Things happened and… I ended up getting hit, on the nose, with… Yeah. It fractured my nose and my face bruised up really bad.” 

“Oh, shit,” Tom chuckled. The corner of his mouth twitched, and I rolled my eyes.

“It’s alright, you can laugh,” I said. “It’s a funny story.”

“No, I’m not laughing at you,” Tom said. “Just… Thinking about you in uni. Would we have been friends, do you think?”

“I doubt it,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “You would have been playing rugby or whatever Brits do at uni. I was a TA for a long time, so I hardly left my office at all.”

“Oh, that’s a question,” Tom said, looking at the list. “Where did I go to uni? Or, I guess, college, as you Yanks call it.” 

“Umm, your first semester was at the BRIT School,” I began. “You still get mail from them, asking for donations. But you transferred to Cambridge and graduated from there.”

“Well, Y/N, you’re wrong,” Tom said. “I went to Oxford, not Cambridge. My little brother goes to Cambridge. I don’t usually like to tell people that, it feels too uppity to me.” 

“You say as we sit in your New York City apartment,” I scoffed. 

“See, that’s different,” Tom began pointedly. “I didn’t grow up with much. Me and my mum and dad and brothers lived in this little town outside of London. It was a sort-of poverty area, so we only had what we could get by with. I was young when I told myself that I was going to work to get myself out of that. And…” He gestured to the apartment. “I did. And I was able to get my parents out of that as well.” 

“Oh,” I said softly. “What was the name Billy all about? You never said.”

For the first time since I knew him, I watched color rise in Tom’s cheeks. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? “Umm…” He began. He looked to the coffee table and to the shelf underneath it, and he quickly pulled out a leather-bound scrapbook. “Mum made this for me before I moved to the States. Just some pictures of home and all. But…” He opened the book and spread it out next to us on the couch, forcing me just a few inches closer to him. There were pictures of him and his family in the gray background of London, most of them stamped with the date and time. A picture from when he was in secondary school appeared on a page, taken beautifully and professionally. A black blazer and striped tie adorned his frame, an insignia for his school on the right breast of his jacket. His hair was short and done in the spiked look that was oh-so popular with young boys several years back, and he gave the camera a closed-mouth smile, probably to hide a set of braces. 

“I was about twelve here,” Tom began. “This was around the time the nickname came around. I did dance all growing up-- Mum said I was too energetic and chucked me there to tire me out, but I ended up loving it. I ended up auditioning for Billy Elliot, and I got the part. I was on the fuckin’ West End when I was twelve, doing ballet every single day. It was great, but… I went to a Catholic school then, and the other boys in my class didn’t think it was all that cool.” Tom chuckled, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. “But then the nickname came around. People at school called me Billy, even after the show closed. I was tormented with it for years. It carried into college, and then uni. And, even though I’ve long since quit dancing, I still have people from uni that call me Billy.”

“Why did you quit?” I asked. 

“I just lost interest.” Tom mumbled with a shrug. “I was being bullied so much that I quit enjoying it. I sometimes wish I never stopped, but what’s done is done.”

The silence was tense between us, and I lightly cleared my throat to diffuse the tension. “Billy Elliot,” I said softly. “Really?”

Tom’s flush came back, but a smile came with it. “C’mon, I was twelve! And I looked like that! What d’ya want from me, Swan Lake?” 

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” I exclaimed. “Besides, it isn’t any worse than what I did in high school.”

“What did you do?” Tom asked.

“You’re deflecting my question, Tommy,” I pointed out. 

“Answer my question, Y/N,” Tom rebutted instantly. 

“Alright, alright!” I grinned. “When I was fifteen, I played Juliet in my school’s production of Romeo and Juliet. Which would have been great, but my director was so inspired by Baz Luhrmann’s movie that he made it set in the 1950s, but had us keep the dialogue. It was… Not good.”

“Say a line, won’t you?” Tom asked. “Just a few words of Juliet.” 

I sighed, and tried in vain to recall even a single line from the play. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more?” Tom mused, looking down at his lap. “Or shall I speak at this? I take thee at thy word: call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth I never will be Romeo.”

A smile slowly filled my lips. “You know Shakespeare?” I asked. 

“My darling, I’m British,” Tom laughed. “I would have my citizenship revoked if I didn’t.”

I nearly didn’t catch how he called me that name. My darling. A slip of the tongue, a thought from Romeo’s mind? Or more? “I guess we’re more alike than we first thought, huh?” I chuckled. “Anyway, I don’t think Billy Elliot is anything to be ashamed of. It’s a beautiful story.”

Tom sighed. “I hope this works,” he mumbled. “I need this job. I’m sure you do too. We both get something out of it. Which, I was meaning to talk to you about that. Editor?”

“Tommy, if I get caught doing this, I could go to jail,” I said firmly. “I’m not going to commit a federal offense if I’m not going to get some benefits afterwards. You get me?”

Tom nodded slowly. “You are a lovely girl,” he said softly. “Any man would be thrilled to call you his.” 

“You do,” I said. “At least, for the next few months, you do.” 

Tom looked at me with those warm honey eyes. “Have you ever been kissed, Y/N?” he asked suddenly. 

“Um, yeah,” I sputtered out. “Of course.”

“Who was your first kiss?” Tom asked. 

“Who was yours?” I said quickly. 

“Zendaya Coleman, one of my best mates from college,” Tom said quickly. “Answer my question. What was his name?” 

I hesitated as I tried to come up with the name of any boy I went to high school with for me to lie about, but my hesitation was answer enough. A slow smile crept up on Tom’s pink lips, and he bit his bottom lip in amusement. “You’ve never been kissed, have you?” he chuckled. “Earlier today, when I kissed you at the office, that was your first, wasn’t it?”

“Jesus, you say that like it’s a bad thing,” I scoffed. 

“It’s not,” Tom said. “It’s just hard to believe. You are smart and witty, beautiful, with a sense of humor… I can’t imagine that boys weren’t falling over themselves to catch you.” 

“Well, nobody’s caught me yet,” I laughed softly. 

“Thank God,” Tom said with a smile. “Or our plan wouldn’t work.”

[violetnotez]

Hiiiiiii! Can I have a request where Midoriya’s s/o makes a promise to him that they will protect them with their life?

“God, this part always made me so upset,”

you snuggled closer into his shoulder, grip tightening on his sleeve as you watched the woman on screen let go of her lover to the ocean, the melancholy music playing like the main theme like a funeral progression as the camera captured the beart wrenching moment.

Midoriya chuckled, looking down at your pouted face as you watched the scene of Titanic unfold, your expression obviously unhappy with the events taking place in the story.

“And why’s that?” He asked, almost sheepishly, timid voice ringing out with curiosity as he smoothed the hair away from your face with his scarred palm.

He felt you take a deeper breath, your chest deeply pressed into his for a second or two. “I could never do that,” you stated, your voice muffled from being curled into his tshirt, “just leave somebody I love like that to die. It’s kinda messed up when you think about it.”

“Well, she didn’t really have much choice, the door only couil fit one person-“

You shuffled on top of him, propping your head up with a playful huff. “It could have totally fit him on too!”

Midoriya chuckled, finding it kind of funny how adamant you were about this fictional scenario. Apart of him agreed with you, that the protagonist maybe could have tried a little harder to save her lover....but apart of him felt sympathy for her.

Many times he’s been in near death experiences, the sole task of saving people in need left on his shoulders. He couldn’t count how many times he stayed up at night, rethinking his approach to those situations in order to do better the next time around, beating himself up when situations ended up worse than he thought.

He knew what it felt like to be those situations, where the line between life and death was only but a single fragile thread, one wrong move snapping the boundary Indeifnitley, and not knowing what the right move was until moments after when everything was said and done.

Did this character regret her decision? Did she wish she saved her lover, not listening to him and joining him in death as well?

Midoriya shook his head of the morbid thoughts, coming back to reality when he heard a man yelling from the TV.

Izuku looked back down at you, grabbing your hand instinctively, finding a certain solace with touching you, grounding himself back into reality.

Midoriya was prone to going on tangents internally, his mind an Icarus of itself. He would fly through his thoughts, each other more detailed than the last, until it ran him into a barrier like the sun, suffocating his sanity.

But with you, you were his saving grace....an angel to gently pull him back to Earth, unknowingly keeping him from being engulfed by his own self.

His thumb squeezed yours gently, smiling as the familiarity of your face made him feel at ease in the present. The man on the screen was still yelling, presumably looking for any survivors as your brows knitted in sadness, hands pressed deeper into Midorya’ chest.

“What would you have done?” He suddenly asked, his thumb grazing the skin of your outer hand.

“Like-if it was you and me?”

He felt you tilt your head, gaining a peck to see his facial reaction. Izuku gulped, feeling a familiar heat raise to his cheeks knowing you were curious by his question-did you find it wierd he was asking such a sad question? Was it a bit morbid for a home date to ask? You had been together for a while...was it okay to ask that?

You felt your voice call out his name, the sound sweet and dreamlike against his ear as he awoke yet again from his internal tangent, shaking himself from the thoughts.

He sent you an apologetic grin, green eyes wide and cheeks glowing a dusty pink.

“I-I guess you could say that,” he said sheepishly, hoping the question didn’t bother you too much with its dark undertone.

He felt you hum against him, your smaller chest sending a vibration down his spine as you thought about his question.

“Well...” you sighed, your eyes shifting upward to look at him “I would obviously try to make you go on with me.”

“And what if it didn’t fit us both?”

I’d make it fit us both,” you said triumphantly, shuffling to prop yourself up in your palms, showcasing a proud grin.

Izuku chuckled at your antics, scarred digits moving to your hips, encasing you on his lap. It was so comfortable like this, so domestic...you really were like a dream, so stubborn yet so sweet in all the right ways.

Deku bite his bottom lip, emerald eyes looking down.

“And what if that didn’t work?”

You tilted your head, leaning down slightly to look at Izuku’s expression. Your grin was on your face, that pride still plastered on your expression.

“I’d force you on it.”

You said it so effortlessly, as if it was so normal and nonchalant. But to Izuku, this was major-you practically said you would-well, die for him-how could you be that.....devoted?

It wasn’t as if Izuku wouldn’t do the same-hell, he’d willingly give his life over yours if it came to it, no question about it...but hearing it from you-well it worried him as well as filled him with a strange sort of gratefulness.

“Force me?” He stuttered out, eyes wide with confusion. “But I-I wouldn’t, I couldn’t let you do that-“

“Cmon ‘Zuku, lets be real here-“ you pursed your lips, your expression more serious than before. “you’re a pro hero. Your life is way more valuable than me.”

“T-that’s not true, all life is valuable, especially yours! I couldnt live with myself if you-“

“You lived without me once-you could live without me again.”

Izuku sucked in a harsh breath, his chest brushing against your yours for a split second. He didn’t expect that from you...such a blatant lack of your own concern for your life. How could you be so willing to lay everything down for him? Of course, you were only saying this, and actions speak louder than words as they say...but the way you were looking at him confirmed what you were saying. Your eyes were knitted, irises dark and full of harsh honesty. It terrfied him, filled him with a pool of icy worry in his stomach.

“I couldn’t.”

He breathed out, digits squeezing your skin, almost as if to confirm you were still there with him, heart beginning to beat like a steady drum in his chest.

“Izuku, your life, no matter how you look at it, is much more valuable.”

You explained, your lips curving into a sweet smile. “You save lives, and you’re pretty damn good at it-Id protect you with my life, because you’d help way more people than I could ever in one life time.”

“T-that’s....no, I-“

You laughed at his obvious flustered look, loving how adorable he was with his cheeks like red licorice, freckles dusted like specks of choclate, sweet and enticing to devour.

You pressed a chaste kiss on his heated cheek, nose grazing his skin, warmth radiating off of him. You giggled at how much he reacted to that one small gesture, his nose taking in a sharp inhale of breath and muscles of his legs tightening under you.

“Just be grateful I wouldn’t toss you into the ocean.” You said mischievously, eyes creased with amusement.

“T-thanks....I guess...”

You smiled, feeling guilty as well as proud that you had the power to turn such a strong person’s mind into much with just a few actions. You decided to give the poor guy a break, finding your spot against his chest yet again. You snuggled back into him, relishing in the smell of his shirt that was so familiar at this point.

“Ya know...I-I...I really-love you,” you heard Izuku stutter out the words, voice so timid it made your heart tug with adoration, “and Id do the same for you. In a heart beat.”

In A heart beat.

It echoed in your head like a mantra, that honey sweet word circulating your body, warming up every corner of your insides.

You yawned quietly, the feeling so refreshing and calming as you snuggled deeper into him, relaxing your body as your lids fluttered down.

“In a heart beat...” you repeated back, feeling as if the simple phrase was perfect to say, the sensation of Izuku’s strong heart beat a reminder of that promise.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Only in a Sitcom

Fandom: WandaVision Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Jimmy Woo Rating: T Chapter Count: 1/?

Summary: Darcy has no idea what the hell's going on with this WandaVision thing, but neither does Jimmy. It's kinda fun to have somebody to binge-watch alternate reality TV with.

The snack selection is paltry to begin with. Darcy doesn’t share, out of spite. Except with Jimmy, because he’s cool and he actually called her “Dr. Lewis” until she waved off the formality and let him use her first name. He agrees with her about the snacks. If this were purely an FBI operation instead of the mixed-jurisdiction playdate it is, he might be more defensive over the lame flavour choices. As it is, the Bureau has issued no statement taking credit for the sad, muddied, salt-and-vinegar-copycat chips, so she and Jimmy spend as much time criticizing them as eating them.

Darcy tries not to outwardly sulk any less than usual when her fancy coffeemaker arrives. She pats the box and says, “Yep, important equipment acquisition,” then lugs it to her desk, giving inquisitive glances the Dirty Harry squint until they look away.

She used to be the kind of girl to hand out coffees willy-nilly, but that kind of girl is an intern and Dr. Darcy Lewis isn’t so easy. She hoards her shiny dispenser of caffeine like a troll. If they played nice with her to start, she might be more accommodating now. Though it takes up a lot of space at her desk, it’s worth it; the coffeemaker is the one thing that doesn’t have a screen and therefore the one thing she can stare at in peace until she drags herself back to data and frequencies and scanning for other feedback and, most importantly, the greatest little ’50s (and beyond) sitcom that never was: WandaVision.

Her reasoning for a full rewatch at half speed is that she’s hoping to pick up on any other telling details, anything more modern than the time warp she’s witnessing. After Monica mentioned Ultron in the episode where Wanda gives birth, Darcy realized it was possible that there were earlier slippages. Ok, she hasn’t found any that specific yet, but on this rewatch (the third), she has help.

“How’s your cappuccino?” she hisses at Jimmy.

“It’s perfect. I want to sit in it like a hot tub,” he says back.

“Right?”

Darcy pulls at her hat, getting it to cover her ears just right. The Department of Somebody or Something has a bee in their bonnet (ha) over the transformation of that one dude into a beekeeper and they’re going in and out a lot, leaving the door open. It’s chilly. This is the kind of thing that pisses Darcy off when people don’t acknowledge it. Must all creature comforts fall by the wayside to make room for whatever-the-heck branch of engineering or nuclear something-or-other? Forget calling the people around her clowns—they are clearly reverse mimes, failing to react to something that’s definitely here: the cold of working into the night in a New Jersey field, with nothing but her perpetually overheating laptop to keep her warm. That, and coffee.

She takes a long sip of hers and sneaks a look at Jimmy to see if he seems annoyed that she spoke while they’re working. After running through the episodes so many times, she’s succumbed to the deeply human instinct to talk during the commercials. Yeah, yeah, yeah, even the commercials have meaning here—Stark toaster this, Hydra watch that—but it’s all being recorded. Her brain has designated the ads “tune out time,” and repurposed them for time spent either staring blankly at the screen or talking to Jimmy.

“Hey,” she says when she slurps from her mug too loudly and he still doesn’t complain, “you’re pretty chill.”

“Am I?”

“When you’re not talking about family planning.”

Jimmy frowns.

“I’m not getting any younger.”

“Yeah, but you’re not that old.” Darcy darts a glance at him. “You don’t look that old.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sure it’ll happen for you,” she adds a few minutes later, when she notices the funny longing look he gets on his face at the part where Vision holds Tommy for the first time.

“Who has the time?” Jimmy uses his mug to motion towards the happy family on Darcy’s non-flat television. “Reality is a secret joint stakeout where we may be getting irradiated by the energy field over Westview. Sit-down dinners and painting the nursery only happen on TV.”

She nods along and says, “Also, hostile alien invasions.”

“Yes! How am I supposed to meet someone when it’s one supernatural catastrophe after another!”

Despite his distress, Darcy cackles.

“Man, the stories I could tell you.”

“About dating or supernatural catastrophes?”

She considers this.

“I mean, both. There’s some overlap there. Nothing serious though,” she notes calmly while Wanda screams her head off pushing out Billy. “I don’t even have a reliable apocalypse booty call to text whenever the world seems like it might end. Do you?”

“God no.”

They both pause to aww over the on-screen couple cradling their swaddled newborns.

“You want some licorice?” she asks. “I snagged it earlier and I don’t want to rattle the wrapper when we get to the scene where Monica asks Wanda about Pietro.”

She sets her mug down and retrieves the bag from behind one of the monitors, holding it out to Jimmy with her eyes still on the screen. At the sharp tug that nearly yanks the packet out of her hand, she turns to see what’s up. The pieces are stuck together and, giggling, she has to grab the licorice next to the one he’s trying to pull out. They peel them apart with a tacky sound that Darcy finds so satisfying. She tosses the bag onto the desk and leans back, crossing her leg and bobbing her foot anxiously, anticipating the ominous cut between Monica confronting Wanda and the couple bouncing the twins on the couch as the credits roll.

“Anything?” a voice asks brusquely from behind them.

Darcy whips her head around, licorice hanging out of the corner of her mouth, to find a S.W.O.R.D. agent snooping on her and Jimmy’s binge session.

“Research,” Jimmy tells the man, biting off the end of his own strand of licorice, his cappuccino raised defiantly in his other hand.

“Carry on.”

“I don’t report to you,” Jimmy mumbles after him, jamming the licorice back into his mouth to soften.

Watching him, Darcy grins. He eats his licorice the same way she does.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

Supercorp - 49 please

Jess has been with her ever since the beginning of time. It might sound like an exaggeration but it really isn't.

Jess was already assigned with her ever since she was the Junior VP of LuthorCorp's Research division back when Lionel was still alive.

And when Lex inevitably drove the whole company into ruin and forced Lena into the limelight as CEO, Jess remained by her side.

So, really, Lena couldn't refuse Jess's resignation letter when it came, finally telling Lena that she wants to expand her horizons. Lena was beyond happy to hear that Jess was interested in going to grad school and finishing her Master's that's been put on hold. At the same time though, she also doesn't know how to let her go. It might sound a little selfish to keep Jess all to herself, but Lena's sure she's going to die the moment, Jess leaves her office.

But of course, Lena let her go, with a hefty final pay and a promise that Jess always has a place with L-Corp.

So truthfully, she doesn't have a problem with Jess leaving, what she does have a problem with, though, is Jess's replacement.

Jess made sure to choose the best of the best from L-Corp's array of eager interns.

Which means Lena has to work with the smartest, kindest, most fucking beautiful intern to ever grace her office.

How inconvenient.

"I'm her boss," she snipes at Sam, for the nth time that night. It's been 6 months of this. Of Kara coming into her office and making Lena's shitty day, less shitty. Of Kara being the most caring person in Lena's life. Of Kara somehow making Lena eat three full meals a day and getting her to sleep on time. Of Kara making her fall and fall, deeper and deeper.

Of Lena trying hard to suppress every little feeling she has when it comes to Kara by whining about it to her friends.

It's been 6 months of this and now it's Christmas and Kara is looking more and more tempting as the evening passes.

"Right, because that hasn't happened before." Sam rolls her eyes. "I haven't seen you look at another woman this way ever, Lena."

"Again," Lena stresses. "I'm her boss. As in, she works for me. She answers calls for me and she arranged this goddamn Christmas party."

"Then fire her," Andrea deadpans, taking a sip from her champagne flute, arm casually wrapped around Sam.

"Mm. I second that idea." Of course, they're ganging up on her. That's their favorite past time--making Lena's love life a source of entertainment.

"Remind me why I'm even talking to the both of you?"

"Because, you've fallen in love for the first time in your life and you don't know what to do because you're emotionally constipated due to family issues and it's Christmas and Kara's standing right there and I'm pretty sure you want to pull her under the mistletoe and we're the only ones who can help," Sam impressively lets out all in one breath.

"I hate you."

"We love you too, Lena," Andrea automatically responds. "Now, go tell Kara she's now unemployed because you want to rail her for the rest of the night."

"You can do it, sweetie. We believe in you." Sam raises her glass in solidarity.

"The both of you should be ashamed of yourselves." Lena glares at the both of them. "Christ, railing..." she murmurs under her breath at the same time she looks up from her drink and into Kara's eyes across the ballroom floor. Kara gives her a small wave, picks up her champagne float as if to toast, Lena raises her drink in turn.

Kara smiles. Lena flushes.

She's going to blame it on the alcohol when Andrea starts to ask.

Kara is on the other side of the ballroom floor, chatting up one of Lena's tech and bioinformatics staff, Wilfred? Winslow?

Whatever his name is, but Kara doesn't seem to be paying any attention, Lena keeps catching her looking at where she is every 5 seconds.

"Lena, for the love of God, stop with the eye-fucking already. If you aren't going to woman up, I'm gonna get Kara over here myself."

Lena knows Sam isn't kidding with her threat. Sam raises her brow in that 'Well, what are you going to do about it?' way that she always does.

"Fire her and get it over with. I heard Cat Grant is hiring."

"Oh my god, you two! Stop it already, I am not going to fire her, and I am not going to break moral code and for the love of God, I DON'T WANT TO RAIL KARA DANVERS, OKAY?!"

She breathes in deep, her heart pounding from her little outburst. Sam's eyes is twice in size and Andrea's lips bitten in an attempt to hold everything in, her left brow twitching.

"What?" Lena grits. "Why are you looking at me like-"

"Ms. Luthor." Somebody taps her on the shoulder and Lena is confronted with the reason why her friends are completely silent all of a sudden.

"Kara," she whispers in horror.

"Uhm." Kara fidgets with the her dress. "I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time? I want to talk with you about something."

Lena clenches and unclenches her fist and tries to rein it in. Fuck, did Kara hear?

"Is it urgent?"

"Uhm yes, sort of," Kara mumbles. And then more nervously, "I promise, it'll be quick!"

"Alright," Lena acquiesces, heart running a mile a minute. She follows Kara and doesn't dare glance back at Sam and Andrea. She doesn't really want to hear what they have to say about the whole turn of events.

Kara leads them out into the empty balcony, National City gleaming brighter than ever before them.

The jazz notes of the holiday serenade from the ballroom fades out and becomes replaced with the soft quiet of the falling snow instead.

"What did you want to talk about, Kara?" Lena dares to ask, goosebumps running along her arm at the cold.

"I, uhm promise me you won't be angry after I tell you?" Kara says, almost a whisper, a plea.

What could be so bad that Kara looks so afraid at the moment?

"I promise, Kara." The words waiting on the tip of her tongue. Eager to give Kara whatever she needs.

"Okay, okay here it goes, okay," Kara mutters under her breath, hands wringing nervously, clearly itching to fiddle with her glasses.

"I want to leave L-Corp."

Lena's heart plummets.

"What?"

Kara steps forward, looks down at the ground and then back to her.

"I- I want to resign. I want to leave L-Corp. I've been thinking about it for a few months now, and I've finally made up my mind. I wanted you to know in advance. I'll be passing a formal letter to HR in January."

Kara's eyes are so blue under the moonlight and her words are chasing each other around in Lena's head. Kara wants to leave. Kara has been thinking about leaving for months.

And here Lena was, expecting her to stick around for forever.

"Why? I thought you were happy at L-Corp? What could possibly be the reason for you to want to leave?"

I thought you were happy with me?

Lena can't help it, the question comes out of her lips without her permission and she can't take it back.

She thought Kara was happy spending time with her, working with her.

But what Kara says next turns Lena's entire world upside down in a heartbeat.

"You," Kara answers.

Everything slows. Time stops and all Lena can see is Kara and only Kara.

"I want to leave. I need to leave. Because of you, Lena. I'm in love with you, Lena."

Lena's first thought is, Fucking hell Andrea and Sam are gonna insufferable after this. Her second being, KARA'S IN LOVE WITH ME, KARA'S IN LOVE WITH ME, KARA'S IN LOVE WI-

"I'm in love with you. And I think you feel something for me too," Kara utters softly.

"And, I also know how much you value L-Corp and how everybody perceives you and I don't want to start something between us, if it would cost you more than it would cost me," Kara tells her reverently, finally closing the gap and taking Lena's shaking hands into hers.

"Oh, God, Kara, I love you too. God, this is crazy, I love you too. I'm so in love with you."

Lena doesn't even feel the cold, all she feels is this crazy, dizzying rush of happiness at finally being able to say what she's been feeling. And to hear it said back to her.

God, is this what it feels like?

Kara is smiling so wide and it takes a moment for Lena to realize that she is, too. She's smiling so hard her cheeks are hurting.

"I really want to kiss you now."

"I really want you to kiss me now, too, Ka-"

She doesn't even get to finish.

Kara presses their lips together and Lena tastes the cinnamon of Kara's lip gloss, because of course, she's the kind of girl who would wear cinnamon chapstick for Christmas.

They're both smiling too hard to kiss properly for the first time.

Lena breaks away for a moment, only to kiss her again for the second time. This time, deeper, more passionate. 6 months of pent-up emotions and want and love.

"To be clear, you love me, you're not going to fire me and you don't want to rail me??"

"I am never going to let Andrea and Sam near you ever again."

prompts list here

[miss-smutty]

Immortal Chapter 3

A/N- My first OC and I'm super excited for it and this story! Hope you love her ☺️

Summary- Thor learns more about his mystery love interest

Word count- 1,952k

Pairing- Thor x OC

18+ Only!

Posted: 21st June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires

Part 1. Part 2.

The last thing Aria remembered before her vision pooled with bright lights and stars, was a car heading straight towards her. She felt the impact, her body flown through the air and crashing back to the ground with a sickening thud. She expected to hear her bones fracture into pieces with the impact of the car, to see her life flash in front of her eyes as she floated through the air. The world around her paused, time going incredibly slow, the speed causing the wind to blow her hair around the curve of her jaw in slow motion. She'd expected to feel the rough tar of the road, peeling away her skin as she landed in a heap, to feel tiny fragments of gravel imbedded in her soft and malleable flesh.

When none of that came though, she wasn't overly surprised. Instead of feeling excruciating pain, she revelled in the feeling of flying, enjoying the moment while it lasted until she was pulled back to earth and ultimately, back to reality. The reality of knowing the look on people's faces as she stood unharmed after a brutal collision that should've left her for dead.

Aria kept her eyes screwed shut, willing herself to just disappear and not have to deal with the backlash. The accident drawing unwanted and dangerous attention to her, attention she'd worked so hard to avoid. I mean she'd run away from her Prince Charming just to avoid this sort of attention, it was kind of ironic really.

Aria slowly opened one of her eyes, her vision blurred and glassy, there were people around her. Lots of faces she didn't recognise, hazy shapes all merging together until her eyes settled on one familiar face. Thor.

His distinct features standing out through the obscurity of her vision. Piercing sky blue eyes shone brightly, until that was all she could see. Eyes so clear she could see straight into his soul, a soul so pure it made her eyes sting. Thor's story playing through her mind like a movie, she blinked repeatedly willing it to stop, wrinkling her eyes tightly shut again.

"Everybody move out of the way, give her space. MOVE!" Thor bellowed over Aria, the crowd dispersing at once with his all commanding tone. He crouched down beside her, giving her body the once over, gulping deeply at the feel of her curves under his touch. Shaking his head while trying to ignore the unwanted thoughts that so helplessly followed. Wondering morbidly if it would be the second and last time he would be able to feel that magnetic pull he felt when their bodies touched.

Aria's tense muscles relaxed at the feel of Thor's hands smoothing down her legs and arms, checking for broken bones he was never going to find. A gasp left her lips when he lifted her T-shirt up just above her belly button, his fingers prodding gently at the softness of her flesh. It took all she had not to giggle, as his fingers tickled against her bare midriff.

Thor continued kneeding his hands softly around her precious torso, more than sure he would find something life threatening. Knowing there was absolutely no way a Midgardian could escape a collision like that with absolutely no lasting scars. His brow furrowed with suprise at finding absolutely no broken bones. Not even one. Even more surprising he found no cuts or bruises, not even a graze.

Aria lay before him, a vision of perfectness, her dark as night hair blanketing her defined features. She bent her hour glass curves, bringing her knees up to her chest. Thor's eyes widened, drawn to the definition of her hips and the swell of her backside in the tight black jeans she wore. He reached forward to stroke the silky hair away from her face, anxious to see her flawless skin and the rosy pink flush of her cheeks.

Aria's eye's fluttered open when she felt Thor's cold fingers brush against her clammy cheek. She recognised the painful look of anguish in his expressive blue eyes, the worry set deep within them.

"I'm ok, help me up please." She stuttered, trying to raise her head from the ground, twisting her body around. Thor's arms immediately reached out, cushioning his large hand behind her head.

"I don't think that's wise, you've been flung about five metres down the street. You need medical assistance. How are you even…" 

"Thor I'm fine, just dizzy. Help me stand please." Aria stopped him mid-sentence, desperate to get out of there before the ambulances arrived, not knowing how she was meant to explain how she was completely fine after being hit by a fast moving car and thrown at speed for quite a distance. The car alone should've broken bones and left her with internal bleeding and that's before she shattered onto the ground five metres down the street. She shouldn't even be alive, never mind perfectly capable of walking away unharmed.

Thor gave in and helped her to her feet, hooking his arms underneath hers and pulling her up gently. Aria's legs buckled when she stood but Thor was there to catch her and hold her steady, the bulk of him stood behind her as he waited for her to find her feet. 

Shaking loose from his grasp, squirming free, she turned to bolt but not before his thick fingers wrapped around her wrist. Aria's heart sank when she realised she wasn't getting away from his restraint, not then and maybe not ever. Thor wasn't about to lose her again, not after she was nearly taken from him for good.

The crowd of people that had gathered around to witness the miracle, the deception of logic, begin whispering between themselves. Sounds of astonishment filled the air at the spectacle before them. Thor pulled Aria against his chest, wrapping his arms around her back in an embrace. The warmth of his body was comforting for her,

the familiarity of his heartbeat thrumming against her ear. The sounds around them melting away as they held each other on the sidewalk, as they became lost in each other once more they heard the faint signs of cheering.

Aria let herself smile, she let herself be happy in the moment if for only a minute before the cheering and whistling was drowned out by the sound of approaching sirens. Thor noticed the visible panic on her face as she pulled back from him, searching the streets for a place to hide. 

If he knew anything after seeing that look in her eyes, that terrible look of fear in her emerald green, Doe eyes, he knew he would do absolutely anything to protect her. Thor knew it the first time he ever laid eyes on Aria, he would always do everything within his power to keep her safe.

Without a moment's hesitation he pulled Aria by the hand, taking her with him as he ran down the street. Glancing at her through his peripheral and taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her next to him, the feel of her fingers wrapped tightly around his hand as she gave her trust to him. The wind blowing through her shoulder length hair as they ran and realising that he hadn't needed to slow his pace so she could keep up. She was running at the exact same speed as him, running along side him effortlessly as they dodged the obstacles in their paths. Aria was just as agile, just as strong and with the exact same level of reflexes as Thor.

If Aria wasn't in a state of panic she would have enjoyed the feeling of running alongside Thor, to finally not have to hold back any longer. It was a big deal for her to put her trust in anybody let alone somebody she had just met but she didn't have much choice. She needed to get out of there and fast. 

They turned the corner together, down a narrower street lined with trash cans and through an even smaller alley.

With no where else to go, they stopped at the end of the alleyway, a metal gate blocking their way. Closed in with no where to escape but luckily no one to escape from. Thor leant one hand against the sturdy gate, studying Aria closely. Waiting with bated breath to see whether she would need to catch her breath, instead she looked up at him bright eyed, crinkling her nose in the cutest way. Then he heard the most glorious sound he has ever heard, like sweet music to his ears. 

Aria couldn't help herself, she looked up at the god of Thunder, a look of confusion etched on his chiselled face and she laughed. Not a cute little girly giggle either but a full belly laugh, holding on to her knees as she struggled to breath through it. The truth was, she hadn't felt that exhilarated in years, running away from danger usually wasn't so exciting for her but having a tall, strong, literal God by her side made her feel invincible. Cheating death also added to the thrill, to that untouchable feeling. She knew it wouldn't last long, it never does, but she would enjoy it while it lasted.

"Why are you laughing?" Thor couldn't hide the amusement in his voice from the warm feeling it gave him seeing Aria laugh.

"The look on… People's faces." She struggled to get out between laughing. Her pink cheeks turning red, her head feeling light from lack of air. "On your face." Her chest rattled as she finally started calming down.

"Yes, although it wasn't funny at the time, I can see why it would make you laugh." He leaned his body against the gate. The sound making Aria jump, goosebumps travelling up her arms as her ears pricked, the laughter dissipated. 

"Relax, it's just me." He soothed, taking note of how easily she startled. Not only eyes like a doe but the behaviour too. "So you're unbreakable, you have no trouble keeping up with my speed and your stamina almost matches mine. That's without even mentioning the feeling I get when I'm near you." 

The uneasy feeling came, as she knew it would. She was deluded to think she would automatically begin to trust. To forget about the way people had used and hurt her in the past. So much so that she'd built a giant wall, locked her heart up and thrown away the key. Luckily Thor had his own hammer to knock down that wall and nothing would stop him finding that key.

"So what are you saying Thor?" She didn't hide the annoyance in her voice. Resting her back against the brick wall and slumping down to the ground.

"I want to get to know you, to figure out why we're quite clearly connected in some way. I don't even know your name?" 

"My name is Aria and I don't know what I am. I've spent my lifetime trying to figure it out. And I don't know, ok?" Aria sniffs.

"It's ok, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you Aria. What about your parents?" 

"I don't know my parents, they probably realised what a freak I am and sent me away." 

"I can help you." Thor pushes back from the gate and slides himself down next to her. "We're similar. And you can not deny the connection we have." He nudges her with his elbow, willing her to look at him just as the sound of footfall echoed down the alley towards them. They both turned their heads at the same time, in the direction of the noise. The footsteps drawing closer.