#i almost got excited but why would they go anywhere other than new york

[genshin-impact-updates]

GENSHIN CONCERT TOUR Details Announced

Dear Traveler, amidst the gentle breeze, a familiar melody reaches you. The tales of your journey will harmonize into notes, bringing us together in real life.

Please visit the official event website to learn more about the sessions and ticketing information for the GENSHIN CONCERT.

https://hoyo.link/eM8jFQAL

[wren-is-a-wreck]

I’m back! And I think I’m almost finished… well anyway as usual, here’s pt 5, and part 4 is here

Jack’s clothes were dry, luckily. He changed as quickly as he could, making himself look presentable, and hurried back to the bedroom. Davey was dressed as well, although decidedly less awake than Jack.

“You’s not a mornin person, is ya Dave?”

Davey fixed him with a pitiful glare.

“Definitely not.”

Jack rocked on his heels as he tied his red bandana around his neck, wondering what to do. He couldn’t go downstairs, Davey’s parents would be confused as to why their son’s friend was wandering around their house early in the morning. But his other option was to leave, go back to the lodging house to have breakfast with the other newsies. He’d have to wait to talk to Davey again until they met at the gates, and the Jacobs brothers were always a bit later, showing up after the traffic had cleared from Weisel’s booth.

Then a fist knocked solidly on the door. “Davey? Are you up? Les said you seemed tired this morning.”

“Yeah, Pa, I’m awake!” Davey’s eyes widened, looking at Jack. Both of the boys were frozen.

“Okay, son. See you soon.” Davey’s father walked down the hallway with loud footsteps. Jack's shoulders relaxed, but Davey was still on high alert.

Jack walked over, taking Davey’s sleeve in his fist. “Don’t worry Dave, I’ll get outta ya hair, and we’ll see each other later, yeah?” Davey looked at him and seemed to relax a little. Jack let him go, and turned to open the window to the fire escape.

“Jack, wait!” Davey hurried over as Jack was shoving one foot through the window. “Will you wait on my street for me? I won’t be long.”

“Don’t ya need breakfast or something?”

“Nah, I’ll be alright. See you soon, Jackie.”

Jack got himself the rest of the way out the window, then winked at Davey and hurried down the stairs. He had a plan.

Davey was rooted to the floor. Did Jack just wink at him? He wasn’t sure, he was too tired to try and comprehend it. He finished trying to make himself look as awake as possible, which included finding matching shoes. He had already been running a bit late, and if he was going to be fast enough to catch Jack he was going to skip breakfast. Davey didn’t have breakfast anyways, more often than not.

When he made it downstairs, he was surprised to see Romeo in the doorway.

“Ah hey, Davey! I promised your kiddo here I’d show him the railyards! If that’s okay with ya, of course!”

“Sure, I’m positive pa won’t mind. Go ahead, you two, I’ll see you at the gates.”

Les whooped and jumped with excitement, and yelled a quick thanks as he dragged Romeo out the door. That kids got no idea how much energy Les Jacobs has in him.

Once Romeo and Les had turned the corner at the end of the street, Davey raced outside with his news bag, scanning the alley for Jack. He was about to assume the boy had gone and left for the gates when a voice he would know anywhere startled him from behind.

“Ah, sorry Dave. I was tryin to hurry but the bakeries is busy at this hour of day.”

Davey turned around to see Jack, with a roll of cinnamon bread in each hand. Jack must’ve seen the confused look on Davey’s face, because then he added, “yknow ya can’t go sellin papes without breakfast Dave.”

“Wait… you didn’t buy those for me, did you? It’s not worth the money!”

“Nah, don’t worry. One of the guys who works in the back owed me one, so I called in a favor.”

The two started off toward the World, eating the bread as they talked about the dark clouds on the horizon, and dodging carriages that drove through the puddles on the side of the street. Davey kept sneaking glances at Jack as they walked, observing the quiet but confident way Jack strode. He knew these streets inside and out. Davey wished he knew New York half as well as him. It would certainly help Davey get into less sticky situations.

Just as he went to look at Jack’s bright eyes, Jack turned his head to look straight back into Davey’s.

“What is it Dave?”

“Huh?”

“You’re doing the thing ya do when ya have somethin ya need to say. So say it. I’m always ready to listen to ya.”

It was unfair that Jack knew what he needed before Davey did.

I’ll get pt 6 out ASAP. Let me know how you’re enjoying it so far!! (Please I need reassurance that it’s at least an okay piece of newsies fanfic)

[angelasscribbles]

Victim of Love Chapter 10: Looking Backward

Series: Victim of Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley

Word Count: 1,682

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Song Inspiration for series: Victim of Love by The Eagles

Tell me your secrets I'll tell you mine

This ain't no time to be cool

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley frantically dug through the discarded pile of clothing from the night before, “Shit! I don’t have any clean clothes!”

“Um…down the hall, second door on the right, that’s the room Sav uses when she visits. Go see if you can find something in there.” His sister hadn’t been to the cabin in years as far as he knew, but he also didn’t think she would have bothered retrieving any extra clothes left there when she had moved to France.

Riley sprinted down the hall and into the room, rifling quickly through drawers. In less than three minutes she was back wearing a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt that fit well enough, “Hurry, let’s go!”

Drake had pulled on a clean shirt and was lacing up his shoes, “Yeah, coming!” He nearly tripped as he stood and swiped the keys off the bedside table before stumbling to the door.

They were pulling out of his driveway eight minutes behind Liam. “You sure this is a good idea? I know you want to support Liam but-“

“This isn’t about Liam! It’s about Hana!”

“I thought you two hated each other…”

“We do! I mean we don’t…I mean she’s my best friend! Was my best friend….I just need to know she’s okay, her and the baby, all right?”

“Yeah, of course!” He reached across the console and took her hand, “I get it. I’ll get you to the hospital, don’t worry!”

“Thanks,” she gave him a grateful look, “I know this whole situation is a complete mess. You probably wish you’d never bumped into me in that ballroom.”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed, “This is the most excitement I’ve had in years. I hang out almost exclusively with cattle and they’re pretty boring.”

That got a smile out of her, “Not very talkative, are they?”

“Oh, they’re very talkative!” He corrected her, “In fact, they rarely shut up! I just don’t speak bovine.”

She snorted, “I don’t believe you. I think you’re probably fluent in it!” She knew he was using humor to distract her, and she was grateful for it.

Her feelings for Hana were complicated. They had become best friends over the course of the social season, culminating in Hana confessing romantic feelings for her.

Desperation laced Hana’s voice as she implored, “The coronation is in two days, Riley, but he can’t pick either of us if we’re not here! Let’s just go, me and you! We can be together!”

“Oh, Hana….I love you, but-“

Hana’s face lit up as joy infused her entire being, “I love you too, Riley! So much! I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, I didn’t even know it was possible to-“

“Hana, stop! Listen!”

“What?” Hana’s big doe eyes searched hers, “What is it?”

“I love you but not the way I love him! I love him, Hana, and if he picks me, I’m going to say yes!”

“Oh!” Hana dropped her grip on Riley’s arm and stepped back like she’d been electrocuted.

“Hana, please-“ Riley reached for her, but the other woman sidestepped her.

“You kissed me….” Hana’s voice was barely audible.

“In a truth or dare game!”

“But…” tears pooled in her eyes, “It felt so real!”

“It was real, Hana! It just wasn’t what I have with Liam. I should never have kissed you! I didn’t mean to mislead you, I’m sorry, I-“

“Why would you say that?” Hana looked like she’d been struck, “You regret the kiss?”

“Yes! I mean no! I mean I regret that I hurt you, that you’re confused about-“

“I’m not the one that’s confused, Riley!” An emotion swept across Hana’s face that Riley had seldom seen there: anger.

“Hana-“

“You’re going to regret this someday, Riley, he doesn’t love you like I do! He can’t!”

If Riley had known what was coming down the pike on coronation night, would she have made a different decision? She and Hana could have gone to Shanghai, or New York, or anywhere in the world really, the two of them could be happy with each other right now leaving Liam to Olivia or Madeleine or whoever the royal council deemed suitable.

But instead, when Liam had broken her heart, he hadn’t just taken himself away from her, he had ripped Hana away from her as well.

“I choose….Lady Hana Lee!”

Riley’s heart stopped. NO!

She had known the council was still debating her approval, but she had really believed Liam would be able to sway them. She had also believed that if they didn’t approve her, he was going to refuse to get engaged, to anyone, because he had told her as much.

She found Hana in the crowd. She had been avoiding her, they hadn’t spoken since Riley had rejected her advances. Hana looked as shocked as Riley felt, but as their eyes met, a slow smile crawled across Hana’s face, and she shook her head from side to side.

Riley watched as Hana climbed onto the stage, took Liam’s hand, and found Riley’s gaze again before exclaiming, “I accept!”

Riley turned and ran from the ballroom, but there was nowhere to run to, the one person she would have gone to for comfort, for solace, had just participated in ripping her heart from her chest.

She flung her clothes into a suitcase and sent a text to Max: Bring the car around, I need to get out of here now!

She had left the palace that night planning to return to New York to lick her wounds. At least her student loans were paid off. She could take a few months to heal before starting a job search. Her apartment was gone but her parents would let her stay in her old room.

Her path forward had been clear until Liam had shown up on her doorstep.

“Riley, please! If you’ll just listen!”

“Listen to what, Liam? You promised me a future!”

“We can still have a future!”

“How? You’re engaged! To my best friend!”

“Because the council wouldn’t approve you! I had no choice!”

“You had a choice! You could have refused to get engaged to anyone! That’s what you told me you were going to do if the approval didn’t come through!”

“Yes, but that was before I found out my father is dying, Riley! I couldn’t be crowned king without being engaged and he has weeks left to live!”

“What?” She turned her tear-streaked face up to him, “How long have you known that?”

“I found out moments before the coronation when I told him I was going to wait another season. That’s when he told me that we didn’t have another season!”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Please stay, I love you; we can make this work!”

“How? I don’t even know if Bertrand wants me to-“

“You don’t have to depend on the Beaumonts any longer, Riley, I have something for you.” He produced a sheaf of papers and handed them to her.

“What’s this?”

“This is the paperwork transferring the deed to Valtoria to you and conferring the rank and title of duchess!” He smiled at her proudly.

“I…don’t understand. What’s a Valtoria?”

“It’s a duchy, my love,” he chuckled, “You’ll be a member of the Cordonian aristocracy in your own right, with your own lands, titles, and bank accounts. It lets you stay here as it grants automatic citizenship, gives you a governmental position, a means of supporting yourself, and provides a very real reason for us to spend time together, as you’ll need to be brought up to speed on how to run it.”

Her eyes flicked uncertainly back and forth from him to the papers in her hands, “You’ve…. thought of everything…”

Everything except how to have avoided breaking her heart, ripping their planned future right out of her hands, and taking her best friend from her in one fell swoop.

“Please say you’ll stay, Riley. Please!”

He looked so lost and forlorn, so full of longing and sadness that her heart constricted in her chest. She still loved him and the fact that he still loved her eased some of her pain, despite the convoluted situation they found themselves in.

In that moment, she wasn’t thinking logically. All she knew was that saying yes relieved a lot of pain for both of them.

She could stay and give it a try. If it didn’t work out, she could always leave later, right?

“Earth to Riley….” Drake’s voice pulled her out of her reverie.

“Oh, sorry!”

“It’s okay, you have a lot on your mind. Where were you just now?”

“I was thinking about how everything went down between me and Hana.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I think I’d like that actually, just not right now.”

“Okay, I’m always only ever a phone call away.”

Her head jerked up, “A phone call? Are you leaving already? You just got here!”

“That was my mom on the phone, she needs me back ASAP, there’s something wrong with the herd.”

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! What is it?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. Let’s focus on Hana right now.”

“Drake, I want to be here for you too!”

“I appreciate that, and I will take you up on it. Just not right now. Like I said, you’re worried about your friend. We can talk later.”

“Okay, if we find out Hana is okay-“

“When we find out Hana is okay!” He corrected her.

“But what if-“

“Hey, you know Liam is going to get her the best medical care the world has to offer, right?”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am! Once we know she’s going to be fine, then you and I can tell each other all our secrets, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

He guided the car into the hospital parking lot and into a parking spot, “Here we are.”

She reached for his hand again, “Drake, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he grinned at her, “I still have to get you past security!”

[dancingdanvers1]

Having spent the last few months with the morning sickness from hell the redhead knew she wasn’t actually going to throw up, but through her tears she didn’t bother communicating that to Bo. Instead she just sank down onto the step putting her head in her hands, only to look up at him incredulously with tear streamed cheeks at the surprising response asking if that was it. To her it felt like the world was crashing down around her but maybe she was just hormonal…that was a thing right? 

Sniffing she wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, shaking her head to confirm he was in fact right. She wasn’t married - not even engaged actually. “No I’m not married.” Sloane murmured, trying to do as she was told taking a shuddering breath inward. Closing her eyes as she did so, one hand on her diaphragm, relived that no one was able to see them where they were tucked around the corner because otherwise it would be raising a lot of questions. 

The sensation of his hand smoothing against her back was surprisingly calming and after a couple of beats of silence the girl began to talk, he said start at the beginning, so she did. Right back at it. 

“When I lived in New York I started a relationship with Axel, well maybe relationship is a strong word because at the start I’m pretty sure he just wanted someone young on his arm to spoil, but over time it became more than that to me. He protected me, and made me feel safe, but he was a playboy so I was like ‘oh this is never going to go anywhere because he doesn’t want to settle’. When I got to Aurora he was just…here, which was fucking mental. Except he was dating this girl who super mega loathed me so the two of us like had to stay away from each other or whatever and while I was being forced to not see him I met Jake. Who I had this like instant connection with. So Jake and I started sleeping together, then Axel and I were like fuck this we shouldn’t be kept apart from we started sleeping together too. Only thing is like a month later I found out I was pregnant.” She paused, letting out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“I told Jake first because we were in this whirlwind romance thing and he was so excited, is so excited, and we got really serious really fast. Except then I told Axel and I thought he’d want nothing to do with it but instead he was … supportive and almost seemed like it was something he wanted. So my dumb bitch brain just…doesn’t tell either of them that it might not be theirs. I just let them carry on thinking it is there’s until…well now actually which is fucked up since I’m half way through my pregnancy.” Not that he’d know that, she picked her outfit deliberately to hide her small bump. 

“I think it’s Jake’s, since he and I slept together… a lot more at the time it would have happened, but the thought of doing a paternity test and it not being Axel’s? Makes me want to just…never come out of bed again. Plus he’ll probably never speak to me again, or Jake won’t, or maybe they both won’t I don’t know. Either way I’ve just been fucking both of them and Jake thinks I’m being exclusive and Axel thinks the baby is his. And Jake thinks the baby is his. So not only have i been cheating...i've been lying...and I’m just…I just…want it all to stop.” She trailed off, her rant aka the abridged version of why Sloane was an asshole, coming to an end. @borawinters

At the announcement that she might vomit, Bo subconsciously took a step back, wanting to protect the expensive shoes he was wearing from any possible chunks. The picture was starting to make itself clearer as she managed to get her words out, the bomb he had been bracing for more of a Bang snap.

"Is that it?" He doesn't mean for it to come out the way he's sure it sounds, like he's minimising her guilt. His own capacity for it was minimal at best and he had committed the same infractions in the past without losing any sleep at night.

He moves closer to the step then, taking a seat next to her on it as he tries to find better words to offer than the ones he had spoken.

"Last I checked, you're not married. People cheat all the time. On their partners, on their taxes, at sports. It's human nature." His hand reaches over then, his palm against her back in a gentle rubbing motion to try and ground her away from a ledge she seemed to be toppling over right before his eyes.

"Take a breath. Start at the beginning."

@dancingdanvers

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 8 - Rookie Mistake [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Every agent makes mistakes.

Series Masterlist

You had no idea what you’d done for karma to hunt you down like this, but it was very clear that at some part in your life, you had messed up.

Maybe it was because you never bought recyclable giftwraps for Christmas even if everyone told you to.

Maybe it was because you still used too much sugar in your coffee.

Maybe it was because of all the targets you had killed.

A mystery, that one.

You groaned, pressing your forehead on the window of the car as you massaged your temples.

“Do I have a tracker on me or something?” you whined, “Is that it? What are the chances I run into my fake boyfriend twice while on a mission? It’s a huge city, it’s not supposed to be possible!”

“I don’t know about you but I’m shaking,” Keith reached out to wave his hand in front of your eyes while Chloe checked you both in the rear mirror, “I’m— my hands are all sweaty look—“

“Don’t touch me with your sweaty hands!” you batted his hands away when he tried to touch your face, “How did this happen? How is this possible? Chloe? Chloe answer me, how is this fucking possible?”

“Okay, let’s all take a breath and focus on the bright side of the situation,” she managed to say, keeping her eyes on the road, “Your cover wasn’t blown, he still has no idea you’re…well, you. And everyone is alive, yay!”

“I was on the same rooftop as the world’s most dangerous assassin,” Keith let out a breath, “He was right there when I got there, he was just…. That guy could kill us all!”

“Shrike, just give the order and we will—“

“Everyone stay where you are,” you touched your earpiece, “It’s under control.”

“Let me guess,” Bucky said as he took a step towards you, “Another member of HYDRA and you got here before me.”

“Are you following me or something?” you asked and he scoffed.

“Maybe you’re not the only person going after HYDRA.”

“Maybe I should be,” you said, “Don’t get me wrong, I kind of dig the whole vigilante vibe but my superiors have more…planned strategies for things like these.”

“And who do you work for, exactly?”

You let out a small laugh, “Every girl has her secrets,” you stated, “Why are you here?”

“Why are you?”

“Because I’m getting paid for it,” you said, “You’re not. Surely a handsome guy like you could fill his nighttime with different activities rather than doing….this.”

Even in the dark, you could tell that he shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Aw, not a huge fan of flirting?”

“Not with you.”

You couldn’t help but scoff a laugh at the irony, “Why, you got a girl at home?”

The door slammed open and one of the agents –Keith, you assumed— stepped out, his rifle pointed at Bucky while he heaved a sigh, shaking his head slightly.

“Your friend has a scarf wrapped over his face to keep his identity hidden and you call me a vigilante?”

Keith almost looked like Daredevil with Chloe’s red scarf covering half of his face.

“Mystery is kind of our deal.” you said and motioned at Keith, “Put the gun down, he’s not going to hurt me. In fact, he’s going to let me walk away.”

Bucky tilted his head, “You think so?”

“I know so. I’d hate to mess up that beautiful face during combat.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am.” you shrugged your shoulders and walked past him.

“Who are you?” he asked and you turned around to look at him.

“Come on, you know better than that.” You said and saluted him in a mocking manner before walking to the door, “Until next time, soldier.”

“I’m serious, feel my hands—“ you were pulled out of your thoughts when Keith reached out for you and you made a face, slapping his hand away once again.

“He told me he would stay at home tonight!” you exclaimed. “I can’t believe this, how dare—“

“It’s not like he said he was going to bed and ended up going to a club behind your back,” Chloe said, “Just saying, that happens a lot in some relationships.”

“Chloe, it’s not a real relationship!” you reminded her “What, my options were him having a one night stand and him going after the same target I was going to kill? By all means, he can go and get laid then!”

“But that would count as cheating!” Chloe said, “Besides, you know what they say. Targets over...ladies.”

“No one in the whole human history has ever said that honey.” Keith said helpfully and you looked out the window.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“The base.” Chloe said as if she was apologizing, “Dad wants to see you.”

You threw your head back and slipped a little on the leather seat.

“Great,” you muttered, “Tonight is getting better and better.”

                                    ***

Thankfully, General decided to let you go home after an hour of briefing. He had asked you whether you would like to be pulled out of other missions and instead just focus on Bucky but ignoring Keith’s glances, you had said no.

You had to prove yourself if you wanted to be a handler.

Thankfully it was Saturday so you could sleep until late and when you woke up, instead of going over the plans and rushing to the milkshake shop and coming up with strategy after strategy.

For some reason, you felt almost excited for your second date with Bucky. Maybe Chloe had a point, maybe you had to be extra careful not to lose yourself in your own cover. Just because you hadn’t had that problem before didn’t mean you could take it for granted.

You weren’t used to this kind of a mission. Not this long anyway, tricking a target was fine, it was expected but actually forming a relationship with them was much more complicated than a couple of lies here and there.

You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, looking in the mirror. You already knew Bucky would show up on his motorcycle, so you ditched the dresses and instead picked jeans and a nice blouse. When Chloe had first recreated your whole wardrobe for this mission, you whined for days but now you were slowly getting used to it.

Even though you were pretty sure you would never get used to the uniform.

Your phone started vibrating on the nightstand and you checked the caller I.D. before answering it.

“Hi!” you said, “Are you here?”

“Yes ma’am,” You could almost hear Bucky’s grin, “You ready?”

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right there,” you said and hung up, then took a last look at your gun and put it beneath your pillow. Pushing your hair behind your ear, you locked the door behind you and made your way downstairs.

“Oh my goodness you were serious!” you said when you saw him leaning against a motorcycle and he looked you up and down, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Hi beautiful.”  

Your stomach did a pleasant flip and you didn’t even have to fake mirroring his smile, “Hi,” you murmured and pointed at the motorcycle, “You were serious about that.”

“I was, but—“ he turned around to grab something from the top case on the motorcycle, then turned to you, holding a bouquet of flowers. You gasped and reached out to take them from him.

“As promised,” he joked as you buried your nose into the bouquet.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him before heaving a dramatic sigh. “Well, we had a deal. I’ll have to get on this deathtrap huh?”

“Oh if you’re the type to break deals, you don’t have to,” he taunted and you scrunched up your nose. “But where we’re going is a little away from here, just so you know.”

“Where are we going?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to explore the city?”

You nodded and stole a look at the motorcycle standing behind him, making him chuckle.

“You laugh now but if you drop me on the way—“

“I’m not going to drop you on the way.”

“Or if I die, I’m haunting you.” You pointed at him, “For the rest of your life.”

He nodded in a very solemn manner, “Deal.”

You placed the bouquet into the top case carefully and turned to him so that he could put the helmet over your head. The fond light in his eyes was impossible to miss as he fixed it and lifted the shield.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his hands still cradling the helmet and you grinned.

“Mm hm.” You said and got on the motorcycle after him, then wrapped your arms around his torso. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aftershave filled your nostrils, making you inhale and you adjusted your grip.

“Ready to do this?”

“Nope,” you said, making him laugh, “Let’s do it anyways.”

                                        ***

You had never been so good at dates. You always thought it was awkward and to be frank most of the time you felt like it was an unnecessary step to getting to know this person when you could just look them up or ask Chloe to do it for you.

Besides, the last time you had gone on a date it had ended up in what spies could get as close to a relationship as possible.

But now, much to your surprise you were actually enjoying yourself.

“Brooklyn!” you said, looking around, “Oh my God, I’ve wanted to come here for a while!”

“Have you?”

“Yeah!” you said, “Since I moved to New York. I saw it on um— I saw it on Gossip Girl.”

“Is that a magazine?”

“TV show.”

“Ah.”

“You grew up here right?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yeah! Yeah I grew up very close to this neighborhood actually.”

“Do I get to see it?”

He tilted his head, “Do you want to?”

“Yes!” you said, “It’d be fun, don’t you think?”

He hesitated only for a moment, “Right this way then,” he said and held out his hand. You bit down and smile and took it, then started walking beside him.

“There used to be a movie theatre there,” he motioned at one of the shops, “I was actually— I came around here right before I was shipped off.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm. We went to this Stark Exhibition, me and—“ he stopped talking and you looked up at him before it dawned on you.

Steve Rogers.

Of course. Figures.

You cleared your throat, desperate to pull him out of his own mind.

“I can actually see you growing up here,” you said, “And for some reason you’re wearing short pants and you have a cap? And you’re like running around with a newspaper under your— am I describing a movie? I think I’m describing a movie.”

“Weirdly enough, you’re actually right.”

Your jaw dropped, “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah I had short pants and a couple of caps while I was growing up,” he said, making you gasp.

“Aww!”

“No, don’t.”

“That’s such a cute mental image!”

“Stop imagining it.”

“Tiny baby Bucky Barnes with his tiny little hat—“ you started but he pulled you closer to cover your mouth while still walking, making you let out a muffled laugh.

“Hey you should see my baby pictures, they’re a mess,” you said, “I have this picture with strawberry jam covering my face and my hair— oh, I’ve heard about this shop before! They make these famous bagels, do you want to take a look?”

“Sure, why not?” he said and followed you into the shop.

“Oh come on…” he muttered as he took a look at the menu board “Why does everyone put everything in food nowadays?”

You stifled a laugh and turned to the woman behind the counter, “I’ll get a cereal rainbow bagel and he will get something….classic.”

“We have plain bagel with cheese?”

“That sounds good. When exactly did people start eating lavender?” he asked you and you shrugged,

“Pretty recently I think,” you said and reached for your wallet but Bucky shot you a look.

“Don’t even think about it,” he quoted you and paid for the food, then you both grabbed the small paper plates and sat down on the small bar stools. You crossed your legs, turning to look at him better.

“I could let you try mine?” you taunted him and he chuckled.

“No thank you.” He eyed your bagel as if it was going to come alive any time. “I like the smell but…”

You tore a part of your bagel and put it on his plate. “Live a little Bucky Barnes.”

He held up the piece as if toasting you and you held up your bagel to touch his, giggling.

“So,” you said, “Could you rest last night? At least a little?”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if trying to decide what to say.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, “I did.”

Right.

Of course he would lie, it wasn’t as if he could tell you—

“I just had to go outside for an hour but it was fine.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you blinked a couple of times, taken by surprise at his honesty. It would’ve been so easy for him to flat out tell you a lie, but for some reason he chose against it. You knew he wouldn’t tell you the whole thing but the fact that he hadn’t brushed you off somehow made you feel all warm.

“Oh?” you asked, “Is—is everything okay? You were safe right?”

“Of course.”

You raised your brows, “Bucky.”

“There’s just this…crazy person I keep running into but it’s fine, no worries.”

Crazy person?!

You stared at him but you managed to pull yourself together and sat up straighter, picking at the cereal on top of the bagel.

“As long as you rested just a little, I still take that as a win,” you pointed out, making him smile.

“How about you?” he asked, “How was your night?”

I ran into you right after assassinating another member of HYDRA.

“It wasn’t as exciting as yours,” you took a bite of your bagel, “Surprising isn’t it? Here I thought I was the dangerously adventurous one.”

                                ***

You were one hundred percent sure you were somehow doing this whole mission wrong. In fact scratch the mission, you were doing this date thing wrong.

You weren’t supposed to like it this much.

You had never enjoyed any of your earlier dates with other people this much. By the time you decided to go back, it was the middle of the night and you had spent the whole day together without even realizing it. It didn’t feel like it was a mission you had been put on, it almost—

It almost felt real.

You frowned at yourself, reminding yourself to keep your head in the game and got off the motorcycle when it stopped in front of the building your apartment was in. As soon as you took off your helmet, you started fixing your hair while he watched you with a smile on his face.

“I have a confession to make,” you said as you handed him the helmet for him to put it on the motorcycle.

“What is it?”

“There’s a slight possibility,” you said, bringing your thumb and pointer together close, “Very slight possibility that you may have been right about the motorcycle.”

“Oh was I now?” he asked, feigning surprise and you let out a giggle.

“Maybe,” you said, “I mean I didn’t die, that’s something.”

“That was an expectation?”

“That was a possibility,” you corrected him, “But I got on a motorcycle and you tried a weird bagel. As far as putting ourselves in dangerous situations on a second date, I’d say we’re even.”

“You know, thank you for acknowledging it,” he played along, “It was really intimidating at first, but I’d like to believe I pulled through in the end.”

“You did,” you said, “So proud of you. Maybe the next time you visit me at the shop, you can finally try Unicorn Cotton Candy.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said and shifted your weight, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you for today. I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

“I’m glad,” he said with a smile, “Same here, aside from your quite disgusting taste in bagels, it was—”

“You didn’t like it?” you exclaimed and waved your hands in the air, “You know what, it’s fine. I have this strategy and you’ll—you’ll get there. We’re going to find something that is both completely modern and you like very much.”

“I think we already have,” he stated, his gaze locked in yours and you couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I’d hope so,” you replied, “Really.”

A silence fell upon you and you pushed your hair behind your ear.

“I should probably get going,” you pointed at the building with your thumb, “I have this very curious elderly neighbor, and trust me, she wouldn’t even wait for the morning to ask me about you if she saw us.”

“Oh we can’t have that, can we?” he said and you nodded your head, then gasped.

“Wait—Bucky, my flowers!” you said, “Give me my flowers.”

“Right,” he snapped his fingers and turned around to grab the bouquet from the top case, then paused.

“What?” you asked and he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to keep them in a very hot box whole day?” he asked and pulled out the bouquet, making you let out a whine at the sight. The flowers looked nearly withered and you took them from him, pressing your lips together.

“Okay, it’s not so bad,” you said as if trying to convince yourself, “It’s alright, I can fix this.”

“Darling I don’t think—“

“I can!” you insisted, “I’m gonna put them in water tonight or—or find some solution. I’m gonna google something, I’m pretty sure there are ways to save them.”

“Or I can just get you new ones.”

“That’s not how it works,” you pointed out, still holding the bouquet carefully over your chest as you assessed the damage, then looked up to find his eyes fixed on you.

“I’m—I should go now.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you moved for a moment before you took a deep breath, your heart slamming against your chest. You knew what your cover would or wouldn’t do, but somehow you had this urge that told you the situation probably called for your decisions, not your cover’s.

“Oh screw this,” you muttered as you stepped closer to him to stand on your tiptoes and pull him into a kiss.

Well, for you or your cover that felt like the best decision you had ever made on this mission.

He pressed you closer to his body, his hand cradling the back of your head and as if on cue, your stomach did a pleasant flip, giddiness filling your whole system. You rested a hand over his chest, feeling his fast heartbeat under your palm and let yourself get lost in the kiss until he pulled back slowly. A small giggle escaped from you as his arm around you got tighter, a smile lighting up his face.

“Well, you weren’t going to do it,” you commented, making him chuckle.

“I was waiting for the third date actually.”

“Oh how I’m glad the times have changed,” you said and caught the sight of the bouquet currently crushed between you two. You took a step back, tilting your head.

“Gosh, I don’t think I can fix this.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure we just murdered them,” Bucky stated and you heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Worth it,” you grinned, “You win some you lose some.”

“New flowers next date, got it.”

A look of mischief crossed your face, “Deal. Good night Bucky.”

“Good night darling.”

You bit down a smile and made your way to the building, then hopped on the steps to get to your floor, somehow way too excited to get in the elevator and wait. As soon as you got into your apartment you leaned back to the door, closing your eyes.

Just your cover. You knew you had to act like your cover and that was why your heart was beating this fast, no other reason.

You pushed yourself off the door and stepped into the living room, still holding the flowers tight in your arms. You knew what you were supposed to do, back at the academy when you were being educated on seduction of the enemy, they always told you to draw the line between yourself and your cover. One of the easiest ways to do it was getting rid of every single thing your target would give you as a gift, keeping these gifts posed the danger of making you hesitant when it was time to bring the target in.

You couldn’t keep anything. You knew that.

It would be a rookie mistake.

You lingered on your steps, then approached the dinner table to touch the vase Chloe had put fake flowers in. You grabbed the fake flowers and pulled them out of the vase to throw them into the trashcan, then filled the vase to the brim with water and carefully placed the bouquet into it before putting it on the table again.

You were a professional spy. Keeping something as simple as flowers only for this one instance wouldn’t hurt anyone after all.

You were sure it would be fine.

You stepped back to take a look at the vase and shrugged your shoulders.

“My cover likes flowers,” you muttered to yourself and made your way to your bedroom.

Chapter 9

[cherrybracelets]

I’ll Take You On

bucky barnes x f. reader

18+ / drinking mentions, heavy smut (unprotected s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) )

inspired by: ill take you on by brockhampton 

For your whole childhood, as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a veterinarian. You had loved animals, and couldn’t imagine a better way to spend your days than caring for them. But, as you grew up and the harsh realities of adulthood and capitalism dawned upon you, your dream was becoming less likely. 

Vet school was way over you and your mom’s budget. It was just the two of you, and she wasn’t exactly bringing in buckets of cash at her teaching job. So, you had to get a bit more realistic. 

After graduation college with a business degree, you set forth into the world hoping for a lifetime of amazing opportunities. But, a job didn’t come as easy as you’d hoped, and you were getting desperate. So desperate, in fact, that you called your estranged father begging for a job. 

Your father left your mom when you were nine. You didn’t care much, as he wasn’t around a lot anyways. He was some big shot lawyer in Miami, and he was always traveling for work. It was honestly easier on you and your mom once he left. He didn’t make much an effort to connect with you after that, only calling every few months and sending wads of cash on Holidays, hoping to make up for his absence. 

So, as you pushed aside your pride to call and ask for his help, it was really the least he could do. And lucky for you, his firm’s office manager had just quit. It didn’t sound like an incredibly difficult job and the pay was beyond what you wanted. Your father was most likely overcompensating with the salary. But he could afford it. 

He also promised you a place to live, rent free. He owned multiple properties around the city, most of which he never used. It was kind of the perfect situation. A little suspiciously perfect. 

But there were no other options. You needed a job and he desperately needed to feel like he wasn’t the worst father in the world. It was a win-win for both of you. 

And obviously, Miami wasn’t the worst place you could be. You didn’t know anyone besides your father, but you didn’t care. The idea of relaxing on a beach alone soothed you way more than a group of screaming drunk girls. 

After a week of settling into your apartment and the city, it was finally time to start your new job. You had met up with your father multiple times already, getting prepared for the job and visiting a few of his favorite spots around the city. He was actually really kind, but it was slightly uncomfortable talking to him.

You walked into his office on your first day, shaking in nerves as you prepared to meet your new coworkers. Would they treat you kindly, or did they catch up on the obvious nepotism that was lingering through this entire situation? 

But your fears were quickly buried over as his staff welcomed you with open arms, talking highly of you and about how “proud” your father was to have you working here. You rolled your eyes at his obvious attempt to show a warmer side to his staff, but you let it slide. You had a job and place to live because of him, so it was the least you could do. 

You spent the morning learning the phone and computer system, battling intrusive questions from everyone in the office and trying to learn how to work the damn coffee machine. But all in all, it wasn’t a bad job. 

You never really knew what kind of law your father practiced, and maybe that was something you should’ve asked before, so you were a little less shocked. His clients were mega rich and famous. And your father was just mega rich. It kind of pissed you off, seeing how well he lived and how you and your mom never saw a penny of it. Part of you wanted to scream at him, break all the expensive glasses in his office and storm out. But what was the point? Caring about him was more energy than it was worth. 

Your father met with his clients throughout the day, and part of your job was welcoming them to the office, getting them something to drink, and telling your father when they arrive. And today, at 2:12 PM, twelve minutes late for his appointment, he walked in. 

“James Barnes. I’m here to see Henry,” he commanded, not bothering to look up from his cell phone and pay you an ounce of attention. 

“Of course. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked kindly, trying to keep your voice from quivering. He stood towering over you, his large frame blocking the light above, casting a shadow over your desk. He was one of the most beautiful and intimidating people you’d ever seen. You felt like you were going to choke if he looked directly at you. 

But he didn’t. He walked cooly over to the sofa in the waiting area and sat down, mumbling “Scotch…”. 

You stood up and walked away quickly, desperately trying to catch your breath. You slipped quietly into your father's office, smiling as you closed the door behind you. 

“James Barnes is here. And he mentioned something about scotch, which I’m not sure if I’m authorized to give…” 

Your father chuckled and stood up, walking over to a small bar cart in his office and pouring two drinks. 

“Everyone calls him Bucky. He’s a good friend. Come on, i’ll introduce you.” 

You followed behind your father in a daze, not ready to face him, not ready for his eyes to meet yours. Your skin felt hot and the room was spinning as your head, his loud voice greeting your father in excitement. 

“Bucky! It’s been too long!” Your father yelled, handing him a drink and smiling sheepishly. 

“Yeah, I had to be in New York a bit longer than I thought,” he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink. You were hiding behind your father, hoping he would forget about you and you could sneak away without a word. But of course you wouldn’t get away that easily. 

“Bucky, I have to introduce you to my daughter. Today is her first day working here! (Y/N), come introduce yourself,” he instructed, turning towards you and ushering you in closer to Bucky. 

“(Y/N)...” he whispered, the sound of your name in his mouth making your whole body light up. You had never heard it sound so beautiful before. He reached his hand out towards you, and you grabbed it lightly. His hands were soft and cold, shocking your skin as he touched you. As you shook hands, he leaned towards you, the smell of mint and tobacco pouring from his skin. 

“Why don’t we head to your office, Henry,” he frowned, dropping your hand and turning towards your father. You brought your hand back to your side, confused and dizzy as you found your seat. 

“Can… can I get you anything, Henry?” You stuttered, realizing awkwardly that this was the first time you’d addressed him, and you didn’t say dad. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry, thought that would be more professional. Totally awkward, right?” You laughed, trying to ease the tension. You didn’t think your father would care if you called him Henry, but maybe he wanted you to play into the sweet daughter character at work. 

“No, sweetheart, this is actually a private meeting. I don’t want any interruptions, unless someone’s dead. Okay?” He said in a serious tone, pushing aside any awkwardness. He hadn’t said this with any other clients he’s seen today, so it gave you an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. 

You turned towards Bucky, looking for some sign of a joke with him. But his face was carved of stone, his eyes locked on your father as if he expected Henry’s devout secrecy for any conversation they had. 

The two walked quietly into his office and shut the door, leaving the image of him to only exist in your mind. You were curious who exactly this beautiful  mystery was, so you did what you always did. Googled him. 

You searched for a while, under both of the names he went by. But nothing. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Nothing on Facebook, Linkedin was empty, Twitter and Instagram were farfetched. It was like he didn’t exist. You even unblocked your father on facebook to stalk his friends and see if he existed there, but nothing. He was a ghost. 

You got frustrated after a while, sitting back angrily in your chair, realizing you had three voicemails. Yikes, you were not very good at this job. 

You finished all your work quickly, hoping it would distract you from him.

 They spent the next two hours locked away in your fathers office, leaving you to wilt away in boredom. It only took about 30 minutes to catch up on calls and emails, and then all you could do was scroll aimlessly on your phone hoping someone would bother you. 

But everyone seemed very quiet here. Beyond the initial excitement of meeting you in the morning, everyone stayed at their desks all day, focused intently on their own work. It was one of the quietest offices you’d ever been in. Maybe they were just trying to show off on your first day, or trying not to bother you… but it was odd. 

At 4:15, your father loudly exited his office, Bucky following behind. He was smiling, something you hadn’t seen before. It was almost god-like, his perfect smile, radiating warmth and happiness. You wanted to be close to him again, missing the sweet smell of his lips…

“(Y/N), I have a request…” your father interrupted your daydreaming, making you jump as you stood up to help him. 

“What’s up?” You asked casually, refusing to take your eyes off Bucky. 

“Bucky and I are grabbing dinner tonight, and we’d love for you to join us,” he said quickly, Bucky finally turning towards you and meeting your glance. 

“You… want me to come?” You asked quietly, Bucky still staring at you. He smirked slightly as you spoke, but refused to break your gaze. 

“Well, Bucky would really love to get to know my daughter. You know how… proud I am of you. The light of my life!” He said, smiling intensely at you. You finally looked away from Bucky and towards your father as he spoke. 

It was disgusting, the way your father was obviously using a fake relationship with you to get in good with his clients and employees. But you would’ve done anything to see Bucky again. So you agreed reluctantly, wondering why a man like Bucky would care about his lawyer's daughter… 

“We’re going to a nice place so… dress up,” your father instructed, eyeing your clothes. You had noticed you were the least dressed up at the office. 

“Um… I don’t really have a nice dress…” you whispered quietly, wondering how “nice” you needed to dress…

Your father pulled out his wallet, handing you a thick black AmEx card. 

“I’ll have my driver take you downtown to some shops. Get whatever you want,” he instructed, pushing the card in your hand. 

You didn’t refuse, why would you? Free shopping spree and dinner with some hot mystery man sounded like your perfect day. 

You spent the next few hours in and out of shops, spending more money than your father most likely anticipated. But you needed a new wardrobe anyways, most of your old clothes were too warm to wear here. 

You picked out a gorgeous light blue silk dress and some strappy white heels to match. You were maybe a little ‘under’ dressed for dinner with your father, but all you could focus on was Bucky. You felt high whenever he crossed your mind, your body unable to focus on anything except the feel of his cool skin touching yours.

By the time you were done shopping, it was almost time to meet them at dinner. The driver promised to bring the rest of your bags home and drop you right off at the restaurant. It was all the way across town, and you’d most likely still be late even if you left now. So you hopped in the car quickly, your new outfit looking perfect. 

The drive to the restaurant took just as long as the driver said it would- maybe even longer. You were getting impatient as the time went by, wondering if he was thinking about you the way you were thinking of him. 

It was unlikely. You still weren’t sure who exactly he was, but you knew he didn’t spend his time with ordinary girls. 

But why did he want you to come to dinner? It was odd of him to take such an interest in you. None of your fathers other clients seemed to look twice in your direction. But then again, Bucky was the only one that required privacy. 

As you got lost in your thoughts, your mind tumbling through expectations and excitement, your driver pulled swiftly up to the front entrance of Paterro’s. 

Upon walking through the doors, you were taken aback by the overwhelming fanciness of this restaurant. Your father definitely undersold how nice it was. You felt slightly underdressed, but no one seemed to look twice at you. You were used to not turning heads, being able to walk through a crowd without notice. 

That changed when you got to your table. Your father wasn’t there, most likely in the bathroom or at the bar. It was just him, looking just as beautiful as you pictured he would. 

He wore a navy blue suit that hugged his skin tightly and left very little of his body up for imagination. As you walked towards him, his head lifted from the table and his eyes lingered towards your body. He gave you a soft smile, but he was obviously distracted by how much of you he was seeing. 

“Your… Henry ran to grab a few cigars for later…” he mumbled, standing up awkwardly and pulling out a chair for you. 

“Thank you…” you whispered, sitting shakily down in the chair as he pushed you in towards the table. 

You were in between Bucky and your father’s seat, but much closer to Bucky. Your father came back less than 30 seconds later, which was ideal, since you couldn’t think of a single word to say to Bucky. 

Your father greeted you kindly, a wide smile that read as ‘You better be good tonight.’ It clearly wasn’t normal for him to have guests attend his business dinners. He seemed just as put off as you did, but the two of you kept your thoughts to yourselves and made small talk. 

“This is one of my favorite restaurants, (Y/N),” your father smiled, handing you a menu to you. 

“I’m excited to be here. Thank you for having me,” you responded kindly. 

Bucky and your father started talking about business, leaving you to your own thoughts as you scoured the menu. The prices were insane, but obviously you weren’t footing the bill. You had half a mind to order the most expensive thing on the menu, for the hell of it, but you settled on a nice glass of red wine and pasta. 

You weren’t included in much of the conversation, wondering why exactly you were invited in the first place. It seemed that the two of them barely even knew you were there. You sipped at your wine angrily, wondering how you could get Bucky’s attention. 

It was then when you decided to make one of the riskiest decisions of your entire life. But, high risk, high reward, right? 

Bucky cracked a joke with your father, and you laughed loudly and girlishly, forcing him to draw his eyes towards you. You then gently placed your hand on his knee, dragging your fingertips on his thigh lightly as you smiled at him. For a second, you forgot your father was even there, lost in the delight of finally having your hands on Bucky. 

But you quickly drew your hand back, afraid of how far you’d go if you didn’t stop. Luckily your father didn’t seem to notice, or care. But Bucky did. 

In fact, he was glaring at you. His fists were clenched on the table, his breath shaky and his stared. His face started to relax and he looked away, a slight smirk on his face as he grabbed his drink and gulped it. 

“I have to run and make a quick phone call,” Bucky said abruptly, not waiting for a response before leaving the table. 

You turned awkwardly to your father, not sure what to say to him at this moment. Thankful for you, he clearly felt the same, and buried himself in his phone. That was the nice thing about your father, he never forced you to talk. 

Bucky was back quicker than you’d expected, looking relieved as he sat down. 

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, clearing his throat. “Where were we?” 

The three of you started chatting again, a feat that only lasted about five minutes, before another interruption. Your father’s phone started ringing loudly, much to your embarrassment. 

“One sec,” he whispered, jumping out of his chair and answering in a rush. 

Your heart dropped as you realized you were alone with him for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him after you nearly groped him under the table. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared intently at your fathers empty chair. 

“Do you wanna talk about what the hell you’re doing?” Bucky growled at you, making you finally turn your head and face him head on. 

“I don’t know what you mean…” you whispered innocently. 

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m not gonna fall for your sweet girl act. Your father might, but I see right through it…” He snickered, taking a large sip from his third drink of the evening. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you, James.” You could see him cringe at the sound of that name. You couldn’t help but to get under his skin. Something about him so angry made it hotter. 

“Listen, if you wanna fuck me, just say it. I’m not here for all these little games.” 

“You truly think every girl in the entire universe wants to have sex with you? Seems like somebody has a little ego problem,” you retorted, rolling your eyes and looking away. 

“Oh, baby,” he laughed, touching your cheek lightly with his thumb. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t get under this table and suck my cock if you could?” 

The thought of your mouth around him made you quiver, which was very evident to Bucky. He laughed coyly, before tightly gripping your chin. He brushed his thumb lightly over your lips, your body aching at his touch. 

He dropped his hand quickly as your father approached the table, looking distraught. 

“I’m so sorry guys... My client just called, major emergency. I’m gonna have to run… Bucky, can you make sure (Y/N) get’s home safe? I’m gonna have to take my car…” 

Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded at your father, enjoying the obvious win. 

“I’ll take good care of her, man.”

Your father thanked Bucky, throwing his credit card to you for dinner and running off in a hurry. You felt sick to your stomach, all the red wine dancing around in your body. You felt Bucky’s hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on your skin. 

“You ready to go?” He winked, tilting his head for an answer. You could only nod, unable to think of any words to say. 

Bucky tossed three one-hundred dollar bills down on the table, taking them from a large wad of cash hidden in his jacket. You felt dizzy at the sight of all the money, wondering where it could possibly be coming from. 

The valet pulled Bucky’s car around, which was obviously something beautiful and fancy and nauseatingly expensive. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat. He leaned towards you after you were sitting, pulling your face to his. He kissed you intensely, not giving you a second to think, or breathe. You melted into him, allowing his body to do whatever he wanted. 

But he quickly broke away, closing the door and getting in the driver seat. He didn’t speak to you the rest of the ride, just casually glancing in your direction every few minutes. You wondered if you should tell him where you lived, or if he already knew. But you quickly realized you weren’t going home.

You pulled up to a large white house on the beach. The gates opened promptly as you arrived. They closed quickly behind you, making you finally realize the intensity of the situation. You were here now, locked inside, with a complete stranger. A very, very hot stranger. 

Bucky opened the door for you, clearly picking up your awe at the size of the house. 

“I’m just renting it. I don’t usually stay in one place too long…” he explained, a hint of sadness in his voice. 

“What exactly do you do?” You asked, instantly regretting it as you noticed the distaste in his voice. 

“You don’t need to know that, yet,” he snapped, emphasizing the word ‘yet’. What the hell did that mean? 

He ushered you through the front door, offering you a glass of wine as you entered. You accepted happily, staring at his wide wine collection that was much nicer than the box sitting in your fridge. 

You sat down on his couch, sinking into the soft cushions, realizing just then how tipsy you were. As he walked back towards you with your drinks, you felt a wave of excitement and spontaneity wash over you. Fuck wine, man. The worst and horniest decisions you ever made were because of wine. 

Bucky set your drinks done and you didn’t waste any time. You jumped up towards him, pushing your lips onto his and dragging your hands down his body. He didn’t fight you, unbuckling his pants quickly. He began kissing your neck, pulling down the straps of your dress. You hadn’t worn a bra, giving his lips easy access to your breasts. He sucked your nipples lightly, grazing his teeth. 

You pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly sculpted body that at this point, you had expected. You brought your hand down to his dick, already hard and poking out through his boxers. You pushed him off of you as you got down to your knees, removing his boxers and taking his length into your mouth. 

You flicked your tongue across his tip, making him shake under you. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself deeper into you, hitting the back of your throat. He moved in and out of your mouth, his hand holding your hair out of the way. 

Finally he pulled out of your mouth, beckoning you to stand up. You did as you were told, getting off your knees and following him to the catch. He sat down and dragged you onto his lap, feeling his cock under you. He kissed you for a while, but you never got bored. You could’ve kissed him forever. 

But you felt him twitching beneath you, begging to be inside. You positioned him to your opening and slid down gently, adjusting to his size. He moaned slightly, throwing his head back as he went in. 

“Don’t move for a second…” he commanded, sitting up and taking your face. He was inside of you, not moving, just holding you. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he whispered, the scotch spilling from his breath. He didn’t give you time to respond before he grabbed your hips and began to rock you on him.

You let him move you for a few minutes before you started moving yourself. You felt the overwhelming rush of pleasure take over as you got close to cumming, speeding up your motions. 

“Shit…” you squealed, riding out your high as he kissed your neck. 

“Keep going… I wanna cum inside you…” He whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your jaw. 

You kept grinding your hips, moving faster as he got closer. He gripped onto your hips, digging his nails into your skin as you felt him twitch. You felt him fill you up with warmth, claiming you as his in that moment. The ultimate trophy of male dominance. 

You felt sick to your stomach after you got off, feeling him drip down your thighs as you rolled to the other side of the couch. The fun of the wine had worn off into an annoying headache, and you were dreadfully thirsty.

For some reason, you wondered if you had dreamed the whole thing, before you looked over and saw a naked Bucky, staring blissfully at you. 

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, kindly. 

“Water.” 

He smiled graciously, standing up and putting his boxers on. He walked down a hallway, presumably to the kitchen, and your fight or flight kicked in. You quickly grabbed your shoes and bag, bolting out the front door, unable to face him. 

You were greeted by the fresh air, happy to be back in the realm of normalcy. And then you remembered. The gate. 

“Fuck…” you exclaimed, dropping your shoes on the pavement. 

“I’ll take you home.” You heard, seeing an uncomfortable Bucky standing in the doorway. 

You got back in his car, staying uncomfortably silent as he started the engine and opened the gate. 

“Do you regret it?” He asked. His voice snapped through the quiet like a whip. It made you jump. 

“No. I don’t.” You answered. It was the truth. 

“Good. We’ll talk soon, then.” 

He dropped you off without another word, and you realized you never actually gave him your address. 

Who the hell was James Barnes? 

[alj4890]

I got an ask we know Riley gets kidnapped by Anton but what if Anton was in love with her and he didn’t wanna kill her but makes her his. What if Olivia killed Claudus for shooting drake.

I love the way you think, Nonny! I actually would have eaten this up with a spoon if that had happened in canon. To be honest, I really liked Justin in book 2. If he had been a new love interest, I would have done a play through just to see what happens if Riley chose him 🤦🏻 Of course then we find out he is behind all the bombings and such so...oops, LOL. When I first saw your request, I made an aesthetic with just Justin/Anton and Riley in mind. I completely forgot to add a definite OTP of mine, Drake and Olivia, to it. Smh. The story though will definitely include them along with Riley and Justin. I am so tempted to turn this into a series 🙊

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg  @amandablink @neotericthemis  @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

True Intentions

It had happened when he had not been paying attention. It shouldn't have happened at all. He had one goal. One mission. Nothing had ever come to mean more to him than that. Nothing. No one.

Until Riley.

He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time with her. He shouldn't have helped Maxwell in picking the right dresses for her. He shouldn't have stuck around to see her come out of dressing rooms, an excited smile upon her face, as she twirled around for them to give their opinions.

It had taken all his will power to keep from telling her what he truly thought. Riley's beauty was simply stunning, not because of her outer loveliness, but more that he saw her inner beauty shining through each trial she faced. Her strength amazed him. Her wit brought a smile to his face. Her kindness touched his heart.

It made him begin to long for things he shouldn't. They shouldn't be a part of any dream or plan he had.

And yet...she was beginning to crop up in his thoughts. In his dreams.

In his plans.

He winced as he tried to get comfortable.

His plans hadn't exactly gone as he had hoped. In fact, he should have talked to his men and explained that Riley was not to be a target.

Thank God for Drake. If he hadn't jumped in front of her, she would have been taken from me.

His lips twisted in another painful grimace.

"Are you in pain?"

Justin looked up and tried to smile. "Just a little."

His nurse shook her head. "I told you to buzz before it got too bad." She gently checked his wound.

"I don't want to be a bother." He mumbled.

"You aren't." She patted his hand. "You aren't any trouble at all." Her nose wrinkled. "We had a few nobles cause unnecessary problems when the attack happened."

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Some were knocked down during the chaos and demanded they be admitted."

He chuckled softly. "Sounds like something they would do."

"It's a shame that good people like you were seriously hurt while those spoiled nobles try and take all the attention." She readjusted his covers after administering some more pain medication in his IV. "I don't know why King Liam is so hellbent on bringing them back to court."

"What do you mean?" Justin tried to fight the effects of the pain medicine. "What's he doing?"

"He and Lady Riley are going on some type of tour to some of the major houses to personally invite them to their wedding."

His brow furrowed.

A unity tour. That would work on these small minded individuals. It was a smart move. The public were already Team Riam. Once the royal couple convinced the most powerful houses to come to their wedding, all the other minor lords and ladies would follow suit.

"Well played, Liam." Justin's eyes drooped closed. "Well played."

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

He couldn't believe that they not only convinced Madeleine's entire family, but also somehow got all of Portavira on their side.

"What's the plan?" Claudius asked.

"We need something big to remind everyone that we aren't a one trick pony." Justin told him.

He looked out the window. Leaves were beginning to change with the first hints of autumn in the air.

A hint of a smile appeared as a plan began to form.

"It would be a shame if Cordonia's apple orchard had a bad year, wouldn't it?" He eyed his second in command.

Claudius chuckled. "It really would."

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

Justin watched as every channel showed the devastation of the orchard near Applewood. He couldn't help but smile over Riley making the people love her even more for her righteous anger. Her promises to bring those responsible to justice along with making the orchard bigger than before made him nearly burst with pride.

She had grown into her role more so than he had ever imagined. Gone was the timid young waitress from New York who uttered no comment when reporters surrounded her. She was a confident woman now who could think on her feet.

Justin thought she was more attractive than the first time he had seen her floundering in front of the cameras, in desperate need of a hero. It hadn't been a bother to rush to her side then and put his arm around her. Her wide eyes had lifted to his and he had nearly melted from her beauty.

He still couldn't believe that she forgave Liam for choosing another over her. Granted Madeleine impressed him with how she could manipulate reporters into spinning a story to her advantage, but Riley was so many things that the cold countess was not. She deserved better than what she got.

And he planned on giving it to her.

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

A week after the orchard burning, he turned to see the one rarely far from his thoughts.

"Justin!" Riley rushed over to engulf him in a hug.

"How's my favorite media darling?" He asked.

She leaned back and gave him that smile that was brighter than flash bulbs. "Much better now that I know you're recovering." She playfully glanced about before whispering, "Save me from Madeleine!"

He laughed as he hugged her once more. "I don't know. I've seen her work and can't find fault with it."

Riley pouted. She linked her arm with his as they walked down the hospital hallway. "I prefer your guidance to hers." Her nose wrinkled. "It's weird being told how to act by Liam's former fiancée. I know there wasn't anything between them, but still."

Justin patted her hand. "Tell you what. If Madeleine is unable to do her job or you decide to fire her, then I will gladly step back into my old position." He dug around in his pocket for the earpiece she had used during Liam's engagement tour.

Her smile reappeared. "Old faithful."

"I'm always Just-in-time." He teased.

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

It had been too close. He hadn't expected Riley to go anywhere near Constantine. And there she was, by Liam's side, graciously accepting some necklace from the old man who had destroyed her initial happily ever after.

His heart had nearly stopped as he watched rubble fall around them. Riley had frozen in fear over Liam's safety. It was a nightmare come to life as pieces of the wall and ceiling began to collapse.

At least one good thing had come from this: one king was dead.

It sadly wasn't the king he needed to die.

Justin began to plan how he would comfort Riley once Liam was gone. He wouldn't have to tell her it was he, himself, who orchestrated his death. But he would make certain to enjoy the benefits of it.

His eyes narrowed over another slight problem he had.

He was going to have to kill his own wife too.

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

Lythikos...

It had been almost too easy. Madeleine was already in need of a distraction after hearing Liam gush over how excited he was to marry Riley in a few weeks. Once she requested a fruity cocktail, he knew then that the poison could go undetected taste wise.

The bartender left to go replenish the champagne. Madeleine's irritation over having to wait on a refill was drawing attention.

"Here." He grinned at her. "Allow me to make you another."

Her eyes widened. "Aren't you that press secretary that helped Riley?"

"I am." He began to mix a strong cocktail for her while adding the poison, all right under her nose. "And I must say you are the best I've ever seen."

Madeleine's irritation disappeared over the compliment. "I am, aren't I?"

"Riley's lucky to have someone so knowledgeable in ways of both the court and public like you." He added.

"Yes, she is." Madeleine muttered. "I'll do anything for my country, even if it is a thankless job."

"You should be recognized for your sacrifice." Justin handed her the deadly drink.

"Yes, I should." She took a gulp.

"How is it?" He asked.

"It's the only good thing here." A tipsy grin appeared on her face when she saw Riley. She grasped Justin's hand and pulled him in her wake. "Let's go say, hi."

"Boooooo!" Madeleine giggled when Riley turned around. "It's the ghosts of press secretary past and present."

"The what now?" Riley lips trembled with suppressed laughter as she looked up at Justin for clarification.

"I'm the ghost of press secretary past." He winked at her.

"OoooOooo!" Madeleine swayed where she stood.

"Whoa, there." Riley tried to steady her. "You okay?"

"She's had a little too much." Justin mimed drinking.

"It's a party!" Madeleine slurred. "It's in the worst place ever but it's a party and I'm going to...going to..."

"Enjoy it?" Riley offered.

"Extractly!" Madeleine's brow wrinkled over that not being the right word. "Expactly?"

"Exactly." Justin corrected.

"That."

The crowd quieted around them when Olivia took the stage to offer a final toast of the evening to Liam and Riley's wedding.

"Woo!" Madeleine cheered.

Riley and Justin tried to shush her.

Her giddy smile fell as her rosy cheeks drained of color. "Somefing's not..."

"Madeleine?" Riley lost her grip on her when she swayed violently to the right. "What's--"

Madeleine hit a table, causing the plates to clatter and the vase of blood red roses to fall over.

"I hate this place." She collapsed on the floor.

"Madeleine!" Riley dropped to her knees and tried to bring her to. "Liam! Mara! Come quick!"

Justin stepped back as the two came to see what was wrong. He watched as Olivia made her way through the crowd to find out what the all the fuss was about.

"What's wrong with her?" Riley asked.

"She's been poisoned." Mara whispered.

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

Justin loved seeing the delighted surprise once more on Riley's face when he said he would take over Madeleine's duties for the rest of the tour. It would have been a perfect moment if Liam had not been standing there. He was ashamed to think of his nearly giving himself away when he panicked at the sight of Olivia walking in behind him.

He wished Lucretia would quit trying to push Olivia into going into the family vault. She had a sick sense of humor in wanting her niece to discover she was already married. For some reason, she did not approve of the way her niece depended on her friends for support.

Justin knew the power friends could have. Had he not been trained by his own parents' friends, he wouldn't be the worthy man next in line to the throne. His comradery with his own men inspired their loyalty and willingness to die to make him king.

He needed to distance himself from Lucretia the moment they got out of Lythikos.

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

She was supposed to come alone! Why did she bring Riley? I can't kill her. I need her. I deserve to have a choice in the one I want ruling by my side. The people already adore her, much more so than they admire Olivia. I was supposed to become free of this marriage. Once she and Liam are dead, I'll be able to be king and have--

"Justin?" Riley's eyes were clouded with confusion as she looked first at a picture of him dressed in a royal uniform. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Riley." His voice cracked on her name.

Justin reached in his pocket and pulled out a revolver.

Lucretia cackled with glee as she told her niece the truth about her marriage.

Justin stood there silently as the woman he loved shook her head in denial.

She's so incredibly sweet to doubt a friend could be the bad guy. I hate that I can't pull her away from all this and simply explain why I should be the ruler of Cordonia. I deserve it. I worked for it. My entire life was made for me to take the crown. She would be able to understand that. Look how far she's come in her own life. Who could imagine a waitress from some dive bar in America would come to be the next queen of a small European nation?

"Do it already!" Lucretia hissed. "Shoot her!"

He couldn't do it. Even as he held the gun steady, pointed directly at the woman he loved's heart, he couldn't shoot Riley.

"Get away from her!" Liam ordered.

Justin spun around to see the king and guards filling up the narrow passageway.

"I thought you said this was secure." Justin snapped at Lucretia.

"It was." She held her hands up in surrender.

Justin watched as she stepped forward, pretending to stumble.

His eyes widened as once again his love was trapped within a collapsing room.

He managed to see her safely end up in Liam's arms before escaping through a hidden passage.

He left Lucretia to the guards. She had served her purpose and was sadly of no use to him any longer. Now he could plan what he truly wanted to happen.

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

Liam and Riley's wedding day...

"I don't care who you kill. Olivia and Riley are to be taken alive." Justin told the small team of men he was sending in. "If you have to wound them to get them here, make certain Riley's is non life threatening.

He ignored the questioning look Claudius sent his way.

"Bring them both to our stronghold." His eyes narrowed. "Do not fail me."

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

Later that night...

"Good work." Justin straightened his jacket. He wanted to look his best when he saw Riley again.

Claudius smirked at him. "Just think of all the men we would still have if you had let me go alone."

Justin chuckled. "True, but at least we are free of our weakest links." He smoothed his hair back. "Now take me to our guests."

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

"I know the real Justin is somewhere in there." Riley leaned as far forward as her bindings allowed. "You helped me gain the love of the people. You know that if you kill me, the people will not readily accept you as king."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know and that is why I don't intend to hurt you."

"Then why kidnap us?" Olivia demanded.

He turned toward her. "If I'm to be king, then I have to take the necessary steps to claim the throne." He motioned for Claudius to come in.

"You're the one who shot Drake!" Olivia shouted, struggling against the ropes biting into her tender skin. "You'll regret that."

"And you tried to kill me!" Riley added, narrowing her eyes.

"That was a mistake." Justin quickly said. "You were never to be harmed."

"Then why all the attempts?" She asked. "Why do you persist in--"

"You weren't supposed to be here, Riley." He knelt down in front of her. "You should have stayed in New York until the time was right"

Her eyebrows drew together. "What are you talking about.

Justin asked Claudius to remain with Olivia while he took Riley somewhere private.

"If you think for one second that I will remain with this man while you take her away go do only God knows what," Olivia's chair creaked at her straining to break free, "then you don't know what a Nevarkis is truly made of!"

Justine rolled his eyes over her rant as he untied Riley from her chair. He kept her ankles and wrists bound together. He swept her into his arms and carried her out.

Olivia's shouts were silenced by the sound of a hard slap.

Riley struggled in Justin's arms. "What did he do to her? OLIVIA?!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Justin, please don't--"

"Nothing's happened to her." He took her into a surprisingly clean, yet drab, sitting room.

Riley was dropped on a chaise lounge. She eyed the door then Justin.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated. He gently cupped her cheek, fingers brushing along her jaw line. "I love you too much to ever harm you."

Riley stilled. She looked up at him. "You what?"

He knelt before her. "I'm in love with you. It didn't hit me until you told me you had accepted Liam's proposal on the train. I didn't plan it, but I refuse to hide my feelings any longer." He smiled at her. "You've proven yourself as the rightful Queen of Cordonia. Once Liam and Olivia are dead, you and I can rule this country as we see fit. We'll--"

Riley shook her head. "Justin," she believed he was deranged and knew she had to handle this carefully, "I'm flattered. Really I am. I mean, we both know I would never have gotten this far without you."

His smile grew at her realizing she owed him for her meteoric rise within the court.

"But if you kill Liam and Olivia, the people will not feel any love or loyalty for you." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Surely you see the problem with this plan."

"People respect power." He explained. "They respect someone who fights for what is rightfully his. Since my birth, I have been meant for something greater. My parents, Olivia's family, even my soldiers realized that I alone am worthy to rule over this country." He focused once more upon her. "And I've seen that you are the one to do so by my side."

Riley shook her head. "Justin, I am honored," her voice cracked on that lie, "to have your love but I can't accept it." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love with Liam."

"Riley, he didn't choose you." Justin argued. "He left you on your own to fight against nobles, the press, even his own father. You deserve so much more than being an afterthought."

Tears slipped down her cheeks once more. "That wasn't what he did. He was trying to protect me. And I--"

He leaned down and kissed her.

She froze at the touch, refusing to participate.

"Once Liam's gone, you will see the truth." Justin promised.

"I won't." Her eyes narrowed. "As long as I live, I'll hate you with everything within me for taking him from me."

"You don't have it in you." He shook his head in amusement. "You've forgiven everyone. Olivia, Penelope, Madeleine, even Constantine. You never hold a grudge."

"You'll be my first." Riley vowed. "Liam is the love of my life. If you ruin my chance to finally be with him, I will never forgive you. As long as there is breath in my body, I will find a way to destroy you."

"You are amazing." He murmured, knowing she was speaking from her heart. He couldn't wait for that devotion to be for himself.

"Anton?"

The two turned to see Claudius in the doorway. "Liam should be here any moment."

Justin nodded and told him he would meet him and the rest of the men downstairs.

He lifted Riley in his arms and placed her back in the cell with Olivia.

His wife had the bruised imprint of Claudius's hand on her alabaster cheek. Blood had dried on her bottom lip. No tears had fallen from the force of the hit. Her left eye was bloodshot as she glared up at him.

"Liv?" Riley choked out. "Are you--"

"I'm fine." Her harsh answer echoed in the chamber. "It will take more than some two bit thug to hurt me." Her eyes did a quick scan to make certain Riley wasn't hurt.

"If you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for Liam's last night on earth." He retied Riley to her chair.

She threw her head back with all her might to connect with his face.

His glasses broke from the force of her strike. Blood poured out his nose as he stumbled away from her.

"Don't ever," his voice dropped to a hiss, "do that again, my love." He gripped her chin and jerked her face up toward his. "You will learn how to behave soon enough."

He slammed the cell door and left them alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Olivia whispered.

"No." Riley bit her bottom lip. "Not yet."

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

"Where is my wife?" Liam demanded.

Justin couldn't help but be impressed. The young king was standing before him, completely outnumbered, yet didn't show the slightest flicker of fear.

He asked the one question that he himself would have asked if Riley was taken from him.

"She is well." Justin replied. "Which is something I can't promise about your own well being."

"I want to see her." Liam bit out. "Now!"

Justin's chuckle was interrupted by a hastily whispered message from Claudius. His head jerked around to search the dim hallway as if doing so would reveal the missing prisoners.

How had they escaped?

"You don't get to make demands here." He snapped at Liam.

"Let Riley and Olivia go." Liam ordered. "And I will take their place." His eyes narrowed. "I know it is a temporary one."

Justin couldn't help but smile. The man was indeed brave to trade his life for Riley and Olivia's.

"No!" Riley screamed out from the stairs.

Chaos broke out as she led the charge to attack the Sons of the Earth. Justin watched as she ran over to protect Liam's back.

The couple were doing their utmost to protect the other from harm.

Their friends were taking his well trained soldiers out one by one. It was embarrassing to see how pitiful his men fought.

Olivia moved into his line of sight. Fury blazed across her delicate features.

"I'm impressed." He told her, unsheathing his sword. "I should have searched you myself."

"Trust me." Olivia circled him. "It will be the last mistake you'll ever make!"

She lunged at him. He easily parried her attack. "I think you've forgotten that it was your parents who gave me the same training you had."

"I think you talk too much!" She twirled about, bringing her daggers up to stop his sword from meeting her shoulder. He grunted from her heel piercing his leg as she pushed off to break his hold.

They continued to try and deliver punishing blows to the other. She was desperate to kill the man who was after her friends and country. He was anxious to be free of their marriage.

He noticed from the corner of his eye Claudius and Drake fighting. His second in command stunned the commoner with an uppercut to his jaw, causing Drake to stumble back into a wall.

Olivia heard the scuffle and followed Justin's line of sight. Her face paled at Claudius moving towards Drake to end him once and for all.

With a flick of her wrists she not only slashed Justin but threw her other dagger at Claudius. It struck true along the side of his neck, cutting into his jugular. He let out a garbled scream as he fell to the floor.

Justin hissed at the deep gash she had made along his ribcage.

Seeing that it was a lost battle, he hopped the banister and began to rush upstairs. He would have to go into hiding once more before orchestrating another attack.

"This ends now!" Riley yelled out at him.

He spun around to see both her and Liam rushing toward him. He raised his sword, determined to put an end to the man who stood between him and the throne. He hesitated when Riley jumped in front of her husband.

"You're not taking him from me!" She raised her battle ax. "Every time you try, I will stop you."

Does Liam know how lucky he is? She waited on him to choose her. Twice! And now she stands here, ready to defend him to the death. How could any man not fall in love with Riley?

His refusal to fight her was his downfall. He was pushed over the banister by the royal couple. While his breath was knocked out, Maxwell and Hana bound his hands together behind his back.

He looked about at his fallen and captured comrades. His attention was drawn toward Olivia and Drake. The pair were covered in blood and bruises, yet they were leaning against each other. Drake had his arm around her while softly speaking. Whatever was said caused Olivia to press even closer to his side. Her arms slipped around his waist. Her eyes were closed tight as she allowed him to hold her.

Justin had suspected something more between the pair. It looked like his coup for the throne had accomplished something for them.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards rushed in. After talking to the king and new queen, he collected Justin and hauled him outside.

On the way, Justin met Riley's eyes.

There were so many things he wanted to explain to her. He believed she would have been on board with his plans for the kingdom. Once he had killed Liam and Olivia, he would be the benevolent king the country needed. Gone would be the purpose for pompous nobles. He would have established a council of Cordonia's citizens from all walks of life to advise him. People would be rewarded and honored for their service instead of simply being born to the right parents.

And she would have been his queen, guiding and protecting all she deemed worthy.

"Riley, I..."

"You will never ever hurt those I love again." She hissed.

"Take him away." Liam ordered, keeping his arms locked around his wife. "He will be dealt with in the morning."

Justin knew then that it was pointless to try and explain. She would never give him a chance after all that had occurred.

For the first time in his life, he realized that his intentions didn't matter to the one he loved most.

[p-artsypants]

Crushed

Stuck under a collapsed building together, Chat Noir and Marinette have a heart to heart.

Ao3 | FF.net

I originally wrote this as a secret santa gift, but it strayed too far from what the giftee wanted, so I did something else. I decided to finish this anyway, and I hope you like it!

—

This akuma attack was not going great. He called himself ‘Bomb Voyage’ (“Like in the Incredibles?” “Yes, Chat. I do believe Hawkmoth ripped that name.”) And he was blowing things up right and left. 

When the Lucky Charm bullhorn fell into her hands, she had some sort of plan in the works, but it all fell short at Chat’s shout. 

“My Lady! Look out!” 

The building right in front of her, mere feet away, exploded suddenly, the only clue being Bomb Voyage’s finger point. 

There was no time to run. No time for Chat to scoop her up. Only impending destruction and carnage. 

So Chat leapt, his arms wrapping around her head, and tackled her to the ground as the rubble rained down. 

It felt like ages of pain before things settled. They both coughed out lungfuls of plaster dust that still hung in the air. It was mostly dark, with a scant bit of light from above. 

Chat was squished, but he pushed up on his arms and felt Ladybug move slightly. 

“My Lady?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“My leg hurts. I may have sprained my ankle. How are you?” 

“I took a brunt force to the back when the building collapsed. It hurts, but...I can’t really feel my legs.” 

“Chat...” 

“Though, that could just be bad circulation. I’m in an awkward position.” 

Ladybug’s earrings chirped. 

“Crap,” she muttered. “I used my lucky charm. Do you think you can cataclysm your way out of here?” 

He twisted his neck in an effort to look around, though the dust of the rubble was still thick. He looked towards the light source above them, able to see where it was coming from, but it looked several feet away. “Negative, my lady. I think we might need some outside help for this one.” 

She bit her lip nervously. “I don’t hear anymore explosions.” 

“That’s good. Right? Maybe Hawkmoth thinks we got crushed and stopped his akuma.” 

“Yeah, that’s great…unless he’s got someone waiting to take our Miraculous’ off our corpses when we’re dug out of here.” 

“Ever the optimist, hmm?” 

“It’s my talent,” she smirked. Her earrings beeped again and she turned her ear toward Chat. “How much time do I have left?”

“Looks like two minutes.” 

“Great…”

“I can close my eyes.” He offered. They were basically nose to nose, and her hands where trapped below his arms, so she couldn’t reach up at all. 

“I…I don’t know…”

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know?”

“We need to find a way out of here,” she switched topics. “Or find a way to contact emergency services to get us out.” 

“My baton is still on my back, if you can reach it.” 

Ladybug groped around blindly, feeling for the staff. 

“That’s my butt.” 

“Oh, sorry.” She blushed, and then moved her hand up. Once she found it, she held it out to her side as she could see the screen. “I’m about to detransform, but I have a cookie for Tikki in my purse. As long as it’s still there, she should be able to recharge before they bust us out of here.” 

“I didn’t even think about that,” Chat winced. 

Ladybug dialed the number. 

“112, what’s your emergency?” 

“Hello, this is Ladybug and Chat Noir. We’re in a bit of a pickle.” 

“How can we help, Ladybug?” 

“A building collapsed on us, and we’re pinned and can’t get out. We’re on Rue de Lappe, not far from Bastille.” 

“I’ve got your location on my map. I’m sending the fire department your way.” 

“Is there any sign of the Akuma?” 

“We’ve gotten similar calls about being trapped, but they stopped coming in a few minutes ago.” 

“Thank you. I’m going to extend Chat’s Baton out through the rubble so they can find us.” 

“Alright, I will pass that information along. Good luck, Ladybug!” 

“Thank you!” Carefully, Ladybug aimed the Baton towards the little hole to the surface, and extended the staff, the top breaking through the topside. 

“And now...we wait.” Her earrings beeped again. 

“So...you don’t want me to close my eyes?” Chat asked for clarification.

“I’ve been thinking...if I’m the guardian, and something happens to Plagg, like he gets sick or something, you need to be able to find me out of the suit, you know? It’s just you and me...” 

“Does that mean you want to know my identity?” 

She grimaced. “I should but—“ 

In a flash of pink, Marinette remained, looking sheepishly at him. “...I need a little time to come to terms with this.” 

His eyes were impossibly wide, staring at her, drinking her in in the scant light. “Marinette? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” 

“Howdy?” She squeaked. 

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Chat?” She asked, fearfully. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. He opened his eyes again, and his lip wobbled. “I just—I’m trying really hard not to cry.” Despite this, a tear fell from his eye and landed on her cheek. 

She tried not to cry herself. “Are you that upset?” She whispered. 

“Upset?! No! How could I ever—Marinette, I’m thrilled beyond belief! If it was anyone else—“ he clenched his eyes shut again, as more tears started to fall. “I admire you, and trust you, and respect you more than anyone else.”

“Chat...”

He smiled tenderly. “You know, I had hunches. I was almost completely certain until Kwamibuster, too!” 

That made her wince again. “Oh Chat, you know I didn’t mean to lie to you...” 

“I know, I know, at the time, it was too risky.” He continued to smile, his tears subsiding. “I know this isn’t ideal, but I’m glad I get to see you now.” 

“Kinda makes Evillustrator funny, huh?” 

He laughed. “You’re right! I forgot about that! Hey! You called yourself cute!” 

“I am cute!” She pouted. 

“You are cute,” he agreed, taking her in. “I’ve stared at your face a lot, but you look so so different without the mask.” 

“It’s the glamour,” she elaborated. “That extra bit of magic that makes it hard to connect the dots.”

“I know how it works,” he smirked. 

“Right...sorry, this is just...weird.” 

���Good weird?” 

“I feel naked.” 

“You just say the word, and I’ll get naked with you.” 

She threw him an unamused look. “Don’t be gross.” 

“Sorry, I can’t help cracking jokes around you. Although, I’m sure you were wishing I was secret mystery boy right now instead, right?” He waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to hide his heartache. “So who is it? It’s Luka, right?” 

It was like she had her mask on again, cheeks red as a tomato. “No...it’s not Luka.” 

“Oh...aren’t you guys dating?” 

“Not anymore. We did, for like a week. If you could even call it dating. He just came over to my house during my downtime, and played his guitar while I worked on commissions and stuff. It was nice and all...but I prefer the piano.” She looked away. 

“Piano, hmm?” He smirked. “You know, I’m an excellent piano player...and the real mystery guy is too?” 

“You can’t laugh.” 

“I would never.” 

“I doubt that,” she said flatly. 

“I promise, I know you don’t like people shallowly. So whoever it is, I know it’s genuine.” He smiled softly, encouragingly. 

Marinette screwed up her lips and admitted, begrudgingly. “Fine. It’s Adrien. Adrien Agreste.” 

The sound that Chat let out was not a laugh. But it wasn’t a great sign. It was like a wheeze, but a gurgle. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I just...” he blinked several times, trying to convince himself this wasn’t a dream. Ladybug was Marinette! And she had a crush on him! “I...am surprised, is all. I didn’t know you were...close?” 

“I sit behind him in class. He’s one of my best friends. Our best friends are dating, so sometimes we end up being third wheels together?” 

“Oh. And this is the same guy as before?” 

“It’s always been Adrien.” 

Chat hoped she couldn’t hear the pounding in his chest. “Oh...even when Glaciator hit? When I found you sad on your balcony?” 

“Yep. He was supposed to meet us for ice cream, and he didn’t show...I kind of told Andre that love was bogus, and that’s why he got akumatized.” 

Chat laughed at that. “Aww, it’s okay, Marinette. I’m sure he had a good reason for not showing up...” 

“I’m used to it,” she said dully. “His father is a huge pain in the ass. I used to respect him, but now...he’s a jerk. He constantly holds Adrien’s freedom ransom to make him do stuff. It kills me! You know when I was in New York?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I had to beg his father to let him go. It was a class trip, and he was the only one not allowed to go! Just because his father is so concerned with his safety.” 

“Can you blame the man? We’re currently trapped under a pile of rumble.” 

“But as soon as I’m out, I’ll lucky charm and cure everything! Poof! Sprained ankle gone! Whatever’s wrong with you, gone!” 

“What do you think your parents would do if they found out you were Ladybug?” 

Marinette thought for a moment, and answered honestly. “Probably be sort of angry, and worried. But I think they would understand. They respect us a lot, even after my dad got akumatized.” 

“Don’t remind me.” He groaned.

“What about your parents?” She asked. 

“My mom would have been excited. I think. Worried too, but excited for me. But my father...well, he’d rip off my miraculous and make sure I never saw the light of day again.” 

“That bad, hm?” 

“I’m not exaggerating. I’m in the same boat as Adrien, extremely sheltered.” 

“I’m sorry,” she smiled softly. “I didn’t know.” 

“I didn’t really want you to know. Chat Noir is supposed to be my safe place, my wild and crazy side. I’m afraid if I start talking about home, I’ll admit things that civilian me doesn’t want to.” He exhaled, his chest bumping with hers. “God, it is just so easy to talk to you. Now more than ever.” 

“Really? You know me that well?”

“I know enough. And maybe it’s just because I’ve got you pinned and you can’t go anywhere.” 

She laughed at that. “Well, we’ll probably be here for a while. And...I still want you to hide your identity for a while, but if you want to talk about your life a little more, that’s fine.”

“You sure?” 

“Yes. It really is time for us to know who each other are, I’m just...not ready.” She huffed, and his bangs fluttered. “This was unavoidable, but let’s plan for your reveal, so I can be emotionally prepared.” 

“You won’t be. You will cry.”

“You say that with an awful lot of certainty.” 

“Trust me, when you behold me in all of my unmasked glory, you’ll cry.” 

“Alright. Can’t wait to prove you wrong.” 

He smirked. 

“Chat? Are you shivering?”

“Uh…yeah, kinda.” 

“Are you cold?”

“Not…not exactly. I’m holding up a lot of rumble so it doesn’t crush you…and I’m pretty claustrophobic.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier!?”

He laughed, but it lacked any mirth and was filled with quiet panic. “Uh, just…you know…trying to stay calm.”

“What can I do to help?”

He exhaled shakily. “I don’t know, but talking about it isn’t helping.” 

“Okay, well, why don’t you keep eye contact with me, and…let’s just talk.”

“About what?”

“I know you’ve got a whole list of questions you’ve been dying to ask me. Now’s your chance.”

“Damn it!” He nearly shouted. “I had a whole notebook full of questions I wanted to ask you, but it’s at my house!”

“Well, you know where I live, so you can ask me some other time if you want.”

“Deal!” He screwed up his lips. “But first, since you mentioned it, Weredad.” 

“Oh god…”

“Why did you say you were in love with me?” 

She winced. “To be quite honest, I thought you were going to find out who I was…and the poor excuse just flew out of me before I could think through the consequences. I didn’t think my dad would overhear anything, and I didn’t think you’d show up for brunch.” 

“You didn’t think I’d show up? Me? The biggest gentleman in Paris?”

“Okay fine, I hoped you wouldn’t show up.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Now that I’m thinking about it, there’s a lot of shenanigans that could have been prevented if—hold the phone, how did you do Multimouse?!” 

“Fox miraculous,” she shrugged. 

“The Fox! Of course!” 

She laughed, his reaction calming her nerves. “I understand what you mean now, it’s easy to talk to you. It’s always easy, but I didn’t notice until you said it.” 

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You don’t always feel that way.”

“I mean, I get frustrated with your jokes when I’m trying to be serious, but that doesn’t mean—“ 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Oh?”

He swallowed thickly. “Civilian me…you…you have a hard time…” He trailed off, not looking at her face. 

“Chat?”

“Did you ever tell Adrien? That you…you know?”

She tilted her head at the sudden topic change. “Uh…no. I tried, but it was never meant to be. Every time I did, something would go catastrophically wrong.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like...I gave him this scarf, right? For his birthday. And I forgot to sign it initially, so I snuck into his house and left a sticky note on it. Somehow, it still managed to go wrong, and he thought it was from his dad.” 

Chat stared at her, wide eyed. “And you never told him?” 

“No, he was happy believing that it was from his dad. His happiness is all I want.” 

It was hard to describe the look on Chat’s face. Almost pained, but still full of love. Like seeing something so precious it brings you to tears. “You did that for him? You really love him that much?”

She looked away, “Unfortunately.” 

“Why unfortunately? Is he a jerk?”

“No, not at all. I just…I know he doesn’t love me back. ‘Oh Marinette, you’re such a great friend.’ ‘I’m so glad I have a friend like you.’ ‘Please stay my friend forever!’” She shook her head. “That boy has me firmly friend-zoned.” 

He winced, “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. He probably really really likes you, and just wants you to know how much he appreciates your friendship.” 

“And that’s another reason I can’t confess. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” She groaned. “I sound so pathetic! It’s so stupid.” She shook her head. “I wish I had your bravery.” 

“My bravery isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s gotten me hurt pretty badly, after all.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled at her softly. “You feel how you feel, and I just hurt myself.” He gnawed at his lip. “Actually…can I ask a really dumb question?”

“I don’t see why not.” 

“You don’t have to answer it…actually, no. I shouldn’t ask at all. Nevermind.”

“Well now you have to ask,” she chuckled. “I’m curious.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, but don’t hate me.” 

She nodded him on.

“Why…why did you go out with Luka if you knew I loved you? Do you also like Luka? Or…are you just that…repulsed by me?”

Marinette’s mouth fell open in quiet shock, and she inhaled some dust. She turned so she wouldn’t cough in his face at least. 

“Sorry,” he tried to sooth. “I told you it was stupid. You can date whoever you want…” 

She cleared her throat, and then wheezed out. “You just wanted it to be you.”

“…yeah…”

“Chat,” she leaned up to tap her nose against his. “To say I have absolutely no feelings for you would be a lie.” 

He looked hopeful. “Really?”

“They’re still developing. But I noticed thoughts I have about you sometimes. Missing you, thinking you’re cute…but Luka was the safer option at the time. I was trying desperately to get over Adrien. Luka and I weren’t really friends first, so if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t a big loss. But with you…” She looked into his eyes, an insurmountable amount of pain and unsaid words just beyond his reach. “I could lose everything.” 

“You won’t lose me, My Lady.” He said softly. 

“Oh kitty,” she moaned. “I…I never want to lie to you…but there’s something that I haven’t told you. Something I should have a long time ago. I just…don’t like thinking about it.” 

“What is it?”

“Chat Blanc.” 

At her hesitation, he prodded her on. “What’s a Chat Blanc?”

Her whole face tightened, lips curling into a thin line, eyes squinted hard, and brow furrowed. “It’s…he’s your akumatized self.” 

“What?” He breathed. “But I’ve never been akumatized.”

“No, not anymore. You see…Bunnyx helped with it. Somehow, the event of me signing a gift to Adrien triggered a series of events that got you akumatized. I don’t know what the correlation was, but…you knew my name, and you said our love destroyed the world.” 

“The world?”

“I hate thinking about it,” she winced again. “The whole of Paris flooded, the Eiffel tower knocked on it’s side, the moon exploded. Everyone, including me and Hawkmoth, turned to dust. You cried when you saw me. You asked me to save you, but you also wanted my earrings, wanting to fix everything yourself. So we fought.” 

“I assume you won, if you’re here.” 

“Yeah...the Akuma was in your bell. Your all white bell, on your white suit, with your white hair and blue eyes...” she shuttered. “I still see you like that in my nightmares.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

“I didn’t want to mention it. I didn’t want to worry you, and I didn’t want to remember. I knew I should have told you sooner, though. I’m sorry.” 

“...I understand.” He swallowed and exhaled in a whoosh, all the debris above them shifting. He moaned, ending with a hiss. 

“Chat?”

“Sorry, I moved and realized that I’m a little more hurt than I thought.” 

“What’s ‘a little more hurt’?” 

“Uh…I think I’m…I’ve been impaled?”

“What!?”

“It’s not that bad, the suit took most of the pain. I just…am having a little hard time breathing, and I thought it was from my claustrophobia, but I think something is lodged in me.” 

Very carefully, Marinette reached up and felt along his back. A lot of debris was laying flush to his suit, but as she moved her hand around, she noticed he felt wet and sticky. 

“Yeah, I think you’re bleeding, kitty.” She said so sadly. She touched where the wound was and he cried out in pain. It was his lower back, by his spine. 

“I’m sorry!” She pulled her hand away. 

“S’kay,” he hissed out. “God damn, that hurt.” 

“I promise, as soon as we get out of here, I’ll magic you right as rain. Just...just hold on, kitty.” 

He opened an eye to look at her, still fond through his pain. “Are you panicking?” 

“Yes! I was worried when the building collapsed, but now I’m on the verge of pure panic!” 

“I must admit, this is not how I expected today to go.” He breathed slowly, the pain subsiding when he held still. “Actually, I didn’t imagine this happening when I found out who you are. You being Marinette is like…the cherry on top of a diarrhea sundae.” 

“Do you like cherries?” 

“I love cherries.” He whispered. “I got grounded today.” 

“Oh.” 

“I was having lunch with my father, a rare treat. My friend texted me and I answered without thinking. My father became upset that I would do something so ‘rude’. He said if my friends were more important than him, then he shouldn’t bother eating with me. Then he took my phone.” 

“That’s the kind of assholery that I’ve come to expect from Adrien’s dad. You’re in that boat too?” 

“Unfortunately, yes. Come to think of it…he’s probably the reason I got akumatized in that other timeline.” 

“You think so?” 

“It’s a hunch. I don’t often get upset about things, but when I do, it’s usually because of him.” He sighed, ending with a wince. “That’s something I haven’t admitted to myself until now.” 

“Kitty...” 

“I didn’t mean to bring that up...” 

“It’s okay. I’m glad you did. I want to be able to support you where you need it.” She could see that he was spiraling into depression, and quickly sought to remedy that. “What was your daydream like? When you would find out who I was?” 

A twitch of a smile took his face. “I knew I would spend a long time staring at you, memorizing what you look like without the mask.” He took a shaky breath. “And I thought, when we decided to share our identities, it would be because you finally fell for me. So there was a kiss. And a lot of roses. It was sappy...but it made me happy to think about it.” 

“Can I ask...what it is that you love so much about me? In case you don’t know, there’s a lot of differences between Marinette and Ladybug.” 

“I know,” he smiled. “But there’s plenty of similarities. Your strength, for example.” 

She laughed. “Chat, Ladybug can throw you across the city. But Marinette couldn’t even lift you.” 

“I bet you could! We should test it later! But I meant your strength of heart.”

“You sound like an anime character.” 

“Well, it’s important to me.” He blushed. “You aren’t wishy-washy. You don’t cater to the voices around you. You do what’s right. You want justice. Even when akumas and civilians tell us to go or step down, you get up and fight.”

“I do that?”

“Yes. The day you stood up to Hawkmoth, and you promised Paris that you would fight for them until the end? That moment, I said, ‘no matter who that girl is, I love her.’ And even now, it hasn’t stopped. I may even love you more.” 

“Chat…” She sniffed. “I…I care about you so much. And I know that if Adrien wasn’t in view, I’d fall for you hard and fast. But I can’t.” 

“I know, Marinette. Just knowing…that maybe someday…”

“All the more reason to get rid of Hawkmoth, right?” 

He nodded, a tear slipping from his eye and landing on her cheek. “Today sucks.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s really not your fault. And I’d much prefer that you were here, under me, than being alone. I’m handling my claustrophobia a lot better because of it.”

“I’d much rather be under you too.” 

He gave her a smile, and then snorted with a little blush. “Oh my lady…”

“I thought we were being mature.”

“Me? Mature? Come on.”

“Yeah, I should have known better.” 

“You’re beautiful too,” he added. “I’ve always thought so. As Ladybug and Marinette. I saw you with your hair down once, and it’s haunted me ever since.” 

“You saw me with my hair down?” She questioned, trying to ignore the hot blush on her cheeks. 

“Yeah, it looked really nice on you. I know it’s not practical for crime fighting, but…” 

“Maybe for a patrol,” she offered. “When things are calm.”

A smile graced his face as he sighed deeply. 

The pile above them shifted, and Chat let out a cry of pain. 

“Kitty?”

“This sucks!” He moaned, leaning his forehead down to her face. “Sorry, whatever is in me moved, and I really felt it.”

“Please don’t apologize, Chat. If anything, I should apologize, you took the hit for me!” 

“My Lady…you didn’t do anything wrong. If I can help it, I will never let you get hurt.” 

She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. “It breaks my heart that you would do that. I don’t want you to be a meat shield, I want you to be my partner.” 

“You said it yourself. Once we’re out of here, you’ll do Miraculous Cure and set me right. So I’ll take the hits if I have to.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “Even if it hurts like a bitch.” 

With her hands trapped at her sides, she couldn’t reach up and wipe his tears away. So she opted for the next best thing. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for protecting me. I know you’re going to say it’s your job, but I really do appreciate how much you look out for me.”

“I love you, Marinette. Of course I’m going to protect you.” 

She shook her head slightly. “How can you just say that so casually?” 

“Why bother hiding it? You know already. I’m not going to bottle it up.” 

“I just…wish I could do that. With Adrien. I wish I could walk right up to him and say, ‘I love you, you magnificent human being’ and crush my lips to his perfect face.” 

Chat hid his blushing face in her shoulder. “You should. I bet you’d make his day.” 

“Yeah, or he’d freak out, and sue me for sexual harassment, and then I’ll be the laughing stock of the school, no, all of Paris! The whole world, maybe!”

“Do you often catastrophize?” He chuckled. “I’ve heard you do it before.” 

“Usually only with Adrien. I just…don’t want to mess things up.” 

“I don’t think you will. I know Adrien. He’s a nice boy. He won’t turn you down.” 

“You can’t possibly know that.” 

“Call me a psychic.” 

She scoffed. “Whatever.” Then she shook her head. “Whether or not you’re confident he won’t reject me…I don’t think I’ll ever tell him. I’ve tried to get over him, but I just look at him and melt all over again. I’m sorry Chat.”

He was quiet, his face resting next to her head, cheek against her ear. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, “hey, you like pink, right?”

“Oh? Uh, yeah.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow. A dozen pink roses, maybe some red and white in there too for flavor.” 

“You’re doing what tomorrow?”

“I’m going to reveal my identity tomorrow.”

“After all that? What about Adrien?”

“Don’t worry about him right now. I’ve been thinking. If you and I know who each other are, in a crisis, we’d be able to communicate better.” 

“What do you mean? What kind of crisis?”

“I’m just trying to imagine what happened with my akuma. If there was a problem with my father or miscommunication, we could better solve it without identities in the way.” 

“Okay, yes…” she considered. “But please don’t get your hopes up, okay? I would love to spend time with you out of the suit, but I won’t fall for you instantly.” 

“I suppose you’re right. After all, how can I compare to the amazingly handsome Adrien Agreste? Well, he won’t be a problem for much longer.” 

She frowned. “You say that like you’re going to kill him.”

He laughed. “No no, Bugaboo,” he said fondly. “Look, everything will make sense tomorrow, I promise…as long as I don’t bleed out down here first.” 

“You’re acting really jovial for someone with a mortal flesh wound.” 

“Tis a scratch.” He breathed a shuddering breath. “Or so I hope.” 

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” A male voice called from up above. 

“Ugh, finally,” Marinette muttered to herself. “We’re down here!” She called. 

“We’ll get you out as soon as we can! Any injuries?” 

“Chat has a…bit of a scrape.” 

“An ambulance is on the way!” 

Marinette didn’t want to tell him it didn’t matter. Once she did the cure, he’d be right as rain. 

Right?

“Marinette,” Tikki piped up. “I’m all set, whenever you are.” 

“Alright. Tikki, Spots on!”

The pink flash only helped the first responders locate them quicker. 

“There’s the baton!” His voice sounded closer. The light above was distorted by a rain of plaster, before it was replaced by flashlight light. “Hello?”

“We’re down here!” Ladybug called, moving her arm under Chat. 

“Can either of you move?”

“Chat’s pinned, but I might be able to wiggle out, with some help.”

“We’ll get a sling. We might be able to pull you up and out.”

“Once I get my arms free, I should be able to cast the cure and set everything right.” 

“Great plan, Ladybug! We’ll have you out in a minute.”

Ladybug nudged Chat’s nose with her own. “I’ll cast it as soon as I’m free. Can you hold out that long?”

“I’ll have a dozen pink roses. And I’ll wear something nice, like a sweater. Or maybe a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I heard the ladies love that.” 

“Chat?”

“I’m trying to focus on something else instead of being trapped.” He explained. “Sorry, I might not be very useful for the next few minutes.”

“Okay,” she kissed his cheek. “You do what you have to.” 

The fire department lowered a strap attached to a chain into the hole. “If you can maneuver that under your arms, we can pull you out.”

Using Chat’s Baton, Ladybug was able to pull the strap closer. Very slowly and carefully, she wriggled it under her armpits, careful not to jostle Chat in the process. 

“Jewelry could be fun. I know she doesn’t like it when I’m extravagant, but surely she would cherish it if I gave her a ring.” He had his eyes shut tight, his brow furrowed. 

Ladybug gave Chat a pitiful look. 

“Alright, I’m ready!” Ladybug called to the rescue crew. 

She was pulled out from under Chat. Though, she had been supporting his lower half, and he sank to the ground as she slid away from him. This jostled the debris violently, and he cried out in horrible, agonizing pain. It was the worst sound she had ever heard. 

“Chat!” 

He kept howling, sounding like he was being ripped apart from the inside out. 

Ladybug pushed on the piles around her, hurrying to get free. 

The moment she broke the surface, she called for her Lucky Charm. 

It was a rose, and she teary-eyed through it up into the air, and called for the cure. 

The explosion of Ladybug’s surrounded her, mending her ankle and silencing Chat’s cries. 

She touched down on solid, undisturbed concrete, and turned to find Chat face down on the ground. 

“Kitty!” She cried, voice cracking as she rushed to him. 

He pushed up on one arm. “I’m okay, My Lady. Just a little winded.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He stood slowly and stretched. “Yeah. All cured.” 

She hugged him. Tight and sure, maybe squeezing a little harder than she should. 

“Bug, I can’t breathe.” He chuckled. 

“Sorry, I just...”

He hugged her back. “I’m never going to turn down a hug though.” 

Her earrings beeped. 

“Are you both alright?” Asked the EMT on the scene. 

“We’re all better,” Chat assured. “Thank you for your help!” He gathered Ladybug close to him and put an arm around her waist. “We gotta go though!” 

Ladybug only had a second to realize what he was doing, before she was lifted off her feet and into the air. 

“I can travel myself, you know. I still have time.” 

“Sure,” he shrugged. 

He carried her all the way to her balcony, before setting her down. Her transformation ran out just as they landed. 

“Thanks for the lift, Kitty.” She scratched under his chin. But as she looked in his eyes, she saw tears. “Chat?” 

He sniffled and hugged her again. “Just...a sucky day. I wanted to hug you in privacy. I know how you get when people assume things about us.”

“Well, it’s different when you’re getting handsy and when you need comfort from a traumatic experience.” 

“I never get handsy,” he argued. “I just like to be close. I’m touch starved.” 

“Well, from what you told me today, I believe you.”

He laughed mirthlessly, and pulled away. “I really do feel better now.” He reached up and cupped her face, letting his thumb trail across the apple of her cheek. “No matter how bad this day was, it will never taint the absolute elation of finally seeing you.” 

“Chat...” she blushed. 

“I must be the luckiest man on Earth. Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Ladybug, all rolled into one. I can’t believe it.” 

“Two transformations and you still don’t believe me?” 

He smiled. “My brain believes, but my heart never gets so optimistic.” He cast his gaze away. “Even if you...change your mind...” he mused. 

“About what?” 

“Nothing. Never mind. I’ll just...see you tomorrow. With a dozen pink roses.” 

“I’ll get a vase ready.” 

He reluctantly pulled away, like tearing himself from her was physically painful. He hopped up on the railing of her balcony, and with a little salute, he hopped into the night. 

“I’m proud of you, Marinette.” Said Tikki. “It had to be hard being that honest with him. 

“I didn’t really have a choice. I can’t imagine how much worse that experience would have been for him with his eyes closed the whole time.” 

“It’s over now. And tomorrow, you’ll know who he is too!” 

Marinette whined. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that...” 

“It’s a little late for that. What? Are you going to run at the first sight of flowers?” 

“I might.” 

“It’ll be fine. Marinette, I know who Chat is. And I promise, it’ll all work out fine. Great even. Just, take a shower, and go to bed. Then you can wake up early and mentally prepare yourself.” 

Marinette chuckled as she dropped back down into her room. “What would I do without you as a life coach?”

“Sleep through most classes.” 

“It was a rhetorical question.” 

—

In the morning, with the extra sleep Tikki had urged her to get, Marinette rose and dressed. 

Then the nerves turned on. 

“What if I just fake sick?” 

“Don’t you dare! You’d hurt his feelings!” 

“You’re right...but I really do feel like I might throw up.” 

“Just relax. You’re going to love this.” 

“If you say so...” 

After breakfast, Marinette wandered over to school leisurely. Tikki would say she was stalling, but Marinette would disagree and state she was simply taking advantage of being early. 

At the front steps, students were gathered. No roses. In the courtyard, teens milled about. No roses. In the locker room, her locker was devoid of anything that wasn’t supposed to be in there. 

“Well well well,” said Alya, with too much bravado. “Lookie who’s early!” 

“Yuck it up. I was tired and went to bed early last night.” 

“You sure you aren’t eager to see Adrien today? He looks pretty cute in that button up.” 

In all the confusion surrounding Chat, Marinette had honestly forgotten about Adrien. Her. Forget about Adrien. Perish the thought. 

“I mean...it would be a bonus.” She muttered. 

“Well, he’s up in the classroom. If you were wondering.” 

She wasn’t. Or hadn’t been, until now. But it seemed that Chat wasn’t ready to reveal himself yet, and Marinette still had time to prepare. 

She ascended the steps and headed to the classroom. 

What she wasn’t expecting, was seeing Adrien standing there, sunlight filtering through the window to make a halo in his hair. He wore a black button up shirt, sleeves rolled up, and had a dozen pink roses in his hands as he talked to Nino. 

Dare she hope? Dare she dream?

She just stood in the doorway, staring, before he noticed her. 

“Good morning, Marinette.” He smiled at her, looking warm and inviting and…nervous?

“Goo-goo-good morning, Adrien.” She stumbled. She glanced down to the flowers, then up to his face. “Um…those don’t happen to be for me, do they?”

With a twinkle in his eye, he smirked. “Why? Just because something is pink, you think it’s for you?”

She deflated. “Haha, right…that was really forward of me.”

With a pleasant hum, he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I’m just messing with you, My Lady. These are for you.” He placed the bouquet in her shell-shocked hands. 

“My...?” She breathed. The word was just a whisper, barely heard by even him. 

His smile was broad and gleeful, squinting his eyes and coloring his cheeks. “Mmm-hmm!!” He hummed eagerly as he nodded. 

Marinette had to shut her eyes as a sound like a laugh and a sob burst from her lips. Tears started immediately, and there was no way to stop it. 

“I told you you would cry,” he teased. 

“You jerk!” She blubbered. Then she tossed the flowers at a confused Nino before throwing her arms around Adrien, and sobbing into his shoulder. “I love you, Kitty.” 

He squeezed her back. “Do you really? Because I’m getting mixed signals.” 

“You’re awful. You’re wonderful. I’m a mixed bag of emotions. Just hold me.” 

“Can do!”

As other students came in, seeing the couple embraced, they gave them thumbs up and congratulatory back pats. 

And then Lila entered. 

She halted, hid her sneer, and said, “oh no! Marinette! What’s wrong? Why are you crying on Adrien like that?” 

He patted Marinette’s hair. “Happy tears, no worries.” 

Marinette refused to let Lila ruin this moment. It was far too perfect. Adrien was far too perfect, the flowers, her kitty...

Mustering all her strength, she hooked her arms under his, turned and spun his into a dip. 

“My lady?” He breathed, in awe. 

“You’re the love of my life. I should have kissed you yesterday. I definitely wanted to.” 

“You did?” He smiled drunkenly. 

“Yes, like this.” And she slammed her lips to his, kissing him just like she had in her dreams. 

Adrien let out a contented little mewl as he tangled his fingers in her hair. 

The class went wild with roars and cheers. 

Before she could drop him, Marinette righted Adrien. “Sorry, I just...wanted to do that for a while now.”

Adrien nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “Oh don’t worry, Bugaboo. You can smooch me whenever.” 

Nino made a gagging sound. 

“Oh, well I’m very happy for you guys,” Lila feigned a smile. “But Adrien, are you sure your father will be okay with this?” 

Chloe, who had known this was coming since she saw the roses, stood and stalked over. “Okay, you’re done. Bye!” 

“Chloe, I’m just trying to be rational...” 

“And Adrien is the most deserving person for a happy ending...even if it’s with Dupain-Cheng.” She cast Marinette a glance and rolled her eyes. Then she looked back at Lila. “Though, he could do worse.” 

This made Marinette and Adrien giggle. 

Lila scoffed. “Fine! Make me the bad guy! But don’t come crying to me when Gabriel tells you to break it off!” 

Adrien whispered in his new girlfriend’s ear. “Even if my father makes Adrien and Marinette break up, Ladybug and Chat Noir follow their own rules. It might not be the most fun, but we’ll make it. Then, once I’m 18, I’ll propose.” 

Marinette laughed, kissing him swiftly. “Oh my sweet kitty. Let’s take it slow for a little while. We have the rest of our lives to be that insufferable couple.” 

Alya, who had come in not that long after Marinette but stood quietly in the door, finally spoke up. “Adrien, I couldn’t bear to tear you away from your Princess. So I’ll take your seat.” 

Adrien just grinned in gratitude and hugged Marinette. “This makes that building collapse yesterday totally worth it.” 

“Does that mean...you had a crush on me?” She teased.

“No, my Lady, I fell for you.”

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: November [part two]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Note: Life is very hectic at the moment so this was edited quite quickly. I think I caught all the mistakes, but I’m sorry if there’s any accidentally left in.

______

The photo shoot the next day went amazingly well. After being out of work for almost ten months, it took me a little while to get back into the swing of it, but I hit my stride quickly once I'd settled in. It helped that I was working with people who made my job almost effortless. Sebastian and Anthony had such good chemistry and were so good at what they do that we got through the day with no hiccups and I had more than enough photos to give Marvel what they'd asked for ten times over.

When I got back to the hotel room, I was in a great mood and it was made even better by the surprise for Chris that I had with me.

"Chris?" I called out as I walked into our large suite. "I'm back!"

He lifted an arm to wave from where he was sitting on the couch, his attention still fixed on the football game that was on the TV.

"How was the shoot?" He asked. "How are Mackie and Seb?"

I smiled, knowing he was about to be very excited as I answered him.

"Why don't you ask them yourself?"

That question got his attention and his head shot around to see what I was talking about. As his eyes landed on the two men standing behind me, a grin burst onto his face.

"No way!" He laughed as he leapt up to join us. "Hey, guys!"

All of us - Chris included - had been tested several times over the last few days to make sure that we were all virus free. There was obviously a small chance that one of us could have picked it up some time after one of the many negative results, but I was fairly confident that was pretty unlikely as we'd all been as careful as possible so I'd invited them over for a few drinks. Our hotel room was big enough for us to all keep our distance anyway and I knew that Chris would appreciate the chance to catch up with his friends.

They both greeted Chris before Anthony looked around the room.

"This place is nice!" He observed. "Marvel must love you, you could fit my room in here at least three times!"

"It's not Marvel who loves me," I smirked. "It's Chris - he upgraded our room."

There was a goofy grin on Chris' face as our two guests 'aww'd' in tandem.

"That was too cheesy," Anthony teased. "But man, don't you love me too? Where's my upgrade?"

"I'll get you next time," Chris laughed. "But to be honest, I thought you'd be staying with Sebastian now that you two are a power couple."

Sebastian snorted out a laugh, but Anthony nodded his head.

"I know, man! That's what I said, but Sebastian still won't tell me where he lives!"

"Because you're so obsessed with my couch that I'm worried you'll steal it!"

"Shouldn't buy yourself a five thousand dollar couch if you don't want people to talk about it," Anthony joked, making Sebastian roll his eyes.

"It didn't cost anywhere near that much money. You've never even seen it, I don't know where you got all these ideas from."

"When are you two getting married?" I interrupted with a smirk on my face as they both turned to look at me, their confusion clear. "Sorry, you've just been bickering like an old married couple all day. I was wondering when you were going to make it official."

"That's what we should be asking you two!" Anthony turned it around. "When did this happen anyway?"

"April," Chris answered, sliding his arm around my waist to pull me close. "After a month trapped in a house with me with no other options, she was finally desperate enough to give me a chance."

"That is not what happened," I laughed. "It was more just the fact that being trapped in a house together made us finally have some tough conversations that we'd never had the guts to have before."

"Well, I'm happy for you," Anthony grinned. "And some people owe me some money because I knew you'd get together eventually."

"Wait, you were betting on us?" Chris asked. "With who?"

"Not me," Sebastian was quick to interject, but Anthony just shrugged.

"There was a bunch of us in on it," he admitted. "Downey, Pratt, Renner, Hemsworth, Paul Rudd, Lizzie Olsen, and I think even the Russos. Someone was keeping track of it, I'll have to make some phone calls."

"I don't even want to hear about this," I laughed, shaking my head. I wasn't at all surprised, they were a tight crew and there was plenty of downtime on set for them to get up to all kinds of antics, but I had no desire to hear who was betting on our situation. "So, shall we have some drinks? What does everyone want? I figured we could just order from room service."

After a brief discussion on the matter, we ordered several beers for the men and a bottle of wine for me. It arrived with impressive speed - no doubt a perk of being with a group of celebrities in a penthouse suite - and we all settled around the living room, trying our best to keep some distance between us.

We chatted and caught up, discussing what we'd done to keep ourselves busy through lockdown and when things might start to be more normal - the usual pandemic conversations. The boys were just delving into some sports discussions that were totally lost on me when I received a message from Lisa saying that Grayson was having a bit of a moment and asked if I was able to call. It broke my heart to think of him missing us so I excused myself and did as she asked.

He was crying when she passed him the phone and I felt awful, immediately filled with guilt that we’d selfishly decided to stay in New York for the whole weekend. We would have arrived home quite late if we left right after the shoot, but as I couldn't remember the last time that he’d stayed overnight with someone other than Chris or I, it suddenly seemed cruel to have left him for so long.

He was in bed already, but unable to fall asleep so I chatted with him for a bit before singing him the lullaby that I'd been singing to him since he was born. It worked like a charm and once he was out, Lisa took the phone back.

"Is he doing okay?" I asked, fighting back tears of my own. "Has he been like this all day?"

"No, no, of course not!" She assured me. "He's been totally fine, we've had a great time. He just got a bit weepy as I was tucking him in."

"I'm glad he's been having fun," I sniffled. "I hate to think of him being upset."

"He's just fine, sweetheart," she insisted. "This will be good for all of you. It's good for him to get used to being away from you two and it must be nice for you two to have a break."

"It is," I admitted. "It just feels selfish when he's upset like that."

"Well, sometimes even us moms need to be a little selfish," Lisa laughed. "And selfishly on my part, it's been wonderful having him here."

I smiled, knowing she had been quite excited about their little sleepover.

"We really appreciate you taking him."

"It's absolutely my pleasure. Now, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing and I will see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Lisa. I'll message you when we're heading out so you know when to expect us."

She assured me that they'd be home whenever we arrived and we said our goodbyes before I headed back out to the living room.

"Everything okay?" Chris asked as soon as I sat down.

"Yeah, for the most part," I sighed. "Grayson just got a bit upset at bedtime, I guess. He was crying and wanted to talk to me, but he's fine now."

Sensing I was feeling a bit emotional about it, Chris reached out and squeezed my hand as Anthony spoke.

"I was hoping you'd bring the little man with you. How's he doing?"

I smiled as a grin burst onto Chris' face. He went into a long, somewhat boastful explanation of just how good Grayson was doing, informing them of his extensive dinosaur knowledge and his impressive skills on his bike. It was heartwarming to hear the pride in his voice as he spoke and it was even nicer to see Sebastian and Anthony's genuine interest in hearing about him.

"They grow so damn fast, don't they?" Anthony commented. "One day they can hardly move and then suddenly they're practically BMX champions."

"Oh, no," I shook my head. "It took a good five months for me to allow him to take his training wheels off. He won't be BMX-ing any time soon."

"Well, I hear things are always scarier with the first one," Sebastian pointed out. "Maybe your next one can be the extreme sports star."

"Yeah, that's a good point," Anthony agreed. "When are you having another?"

I tossed back my last sip of wine before letting out a laugh at that question and side-eyeing Chris as I poured myself another glass.

"Did Chris pay you to ask me that?"

"No!" Anthony laughed. "But it's been, what? Four years? Seems like it's about time for another."

Chris snickered as he took a swig from the bottle of beer he was drinking, clearly feeling validated by Anthony's comments, but I just shook my head.

"We've been together for less than a year," I reminded them. "That's hardly long enough to start thinking about another baby."

"Sure, it is," Anthony shrugged. "Maybe not if the relationship is brand new, but you already have one kid, what's the harm in throwing another in the mix?"

"And we already know that we can work together as parents through complicated situations."

I shot Chris a look after his interjection because I really didn't think his friends needed to be involved in a discussion like this, but Sebastian chimed in as the voice of reason.

"It's more complicated than that though, isn't it?" He asked. "Babies are stressful and can ruin a relationship if you're not ready for it."

"Exactly! Thank you, Seb."

"What does he know?" Anthony teased. "He's never had a baby."

I rolled my eyes as I sipped my drink, trying to ignore Chris' smug face.

"If you're such a big fan of the idea, Anthony, why don't you have more kids?"

"More? I already have four!" He laughed. "That's more than enough. Hell, after being in lockdown with them, you could have one of mine if you're not ready to have another of your own."

"I think we're good with one right now," I insisted with a smile. "At least until we see where this whole pandemic thing ends."

"Alright, alright, that's fair," Anthony relented. "But just remember when the time comes, Anthony is a solid name. Or even Antonia for a girl."

"Actually," I smirked. "I do quite like the name Sebastian."

Sebastian barked out a laugh over Anthony's protests as Chris came up with a compromise.

"Sebastian Anthony Evans?" He suggested.

"Can you imagine?" I giggled. "Your fans would lose their minds. You'd have to raise him together, you could make a reality show out of it."

"That's a money making opportunity right there," Anthony grinned. "You just let me know when you need me to show up."

"As entertaining as that sounds, it won't be any time soon," I insisted before changing the subject. "What about you, Sebastian? How's your love life going? Any babies on the horizon?"

His cheeks instantly tinged pink at the attention being flipped onto him as he answered the question and Anthony’s teasing shifted to him.

-

About an hour later, after our guests left, I found myself stretched out on the couch with my head in Chris' lap as he ran his fingers through my hair. It felt so good that I was resisting the urge to purr like a happy cat when Chris distracted me with a question.

"How was the shoot?" He asked. "I just realized that I never got an answer."

"It was great," I smiled up at him. "It felt weird at first after being away for so long, but Sebastian and Anthony are such goofs. It helped me relax and get back into it."

I felt his body shake as he chuckled, no doubt knowing his friends well enough to imagine the antics they got up to.

"I'm glad it went well. Maybe now there's more projects starting up, you'll start getting more job offers again and you won't have to go so long without doing it."

"Oh, I've had plenty of job offers," I admitted. "But most of them I'd have to travel for or they just seem too risky."

Chris was clearly surprised by that confession as I hadn't mentioned any of the proposals I'd received to him, but it didn't seem important when I'd never even considered taking any of the jobs.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" He asked. "We could have worked something out and made it happen."

"Because I didn't want to accept any of the offers," I assured him. "I don't feel super comfortable flying around the country right now and most of them had pretty half-assed safety protocols in place. This was the first one that was close by and had a clear and thorough safety plan. Marvel wanted me for Wandavision too, but I would’ve had to go to L.A. and I didn't feel great about that."

Chris frowned, his fingers pausing momentarily in my hair as he mulled over my answer.

"I get it, that's solid reasoning," he nodded. "But I'm sorry you've had to make decisions like that. I know you love what you do."

"So do you," I shrugged. "So do a lot of people who are currently out of work. I've got it pretty good, I try to focus on that."

"Sure, but that doesn't mean you aren't allowed to miss things too," Chris insisted before letting out a sigh. "Do you ever worry that things won't ever get back to normal?"

As I looked up at him and saw the melancholy look on his face, I felt a wave of vulnerability wash over me.

"Not really," I admitted. "I worry more about what will happen when they do..."

"Oh?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Well, don't get me wrong, I don't want anyone to get sick anymore and I don't want any more people to die. I want to see my family again and meet my nephew and I want Grayson to be able to go to school and make friends," I prefaced my statement. "But for us, it's been really nice. We've been able to figure each other out and build our relationship without anything else interfering and I just worry that when things go back to normal, it won't work."

The hurt that flashed across Chris' face made my chest tighten. I hadn't meant to upset him, but it was foolish of me to think that my doubts wouldn't be hard to hear.

"You don't think we'll stay together when the lockdowns are all done?"

"No, that's not what I meant!"

"Well, that's what you said..."

"I said it was something I worry about," I clarified. "And I do. It'll be a lot harder when we're both working again."

"It's one thing to think it'll be harder," Chris scowled. "It's another to think we can't make it work. Are you planning on running at the first sign of trouble?"

Feeling the panic bubbling inside me, I pulled my head out of Chris' lap and sat up so I was facing him. I did want to run away in that moment - his harsh tone hurting my feelings and making my defences bubble to the surface - but I reminded myself of how avoiding our problems had worked for us in the past and tried to stay calm and explain myself.

"I'm not going to run away, Chris," I assured him. "And I don't really appreciate the way you're speaking to me right now. You asked a question and I explained my feelings, but instead of wanting to talk through that, you're immediately getting upset. I'm allowed to have concerns and all you're doing right now is making them worse."

Despite my frustrations, I kept my voice calm as I spoke and it seemed to have the desired effect as the tension in Chris' body eased slightly.

"Sorry, you're right," he sighed. "I just thought we've been doing so well, I'm surprised that you still have doubts."

"We're just living in such a bubble right now," I pointed out. "When everything goes back to normal and we're both back at work more, we'll be so busy. Balancing that with making sure Grayson gets enough of our attention, it might not leave much time for us and that would strain any relationship."

"It'll be more of a challenge than it is now," Chris agreed, his words spoken cautiously as if they were carefully chosen. "But most parents struggle with balancing their relationship with time spent with their kids. We'll just have to make the effort."

"But we have more to cope with than most parents."

He looked skeptical of that claim.

"How so?"

"Well, you'll be away a lot once you start filming things again," I reminded him, knowing that his next project had plans to film in L.A. and Europe. "And you'll be surrounded by beautiful, smart, talented women who I pale in comparison to."

"That’s not true, but regardless, I won't even look at them twice." His voice was firm and for a moment I worried that he was annoyed again, but as he took my hand in his and lifted his eyes to meet mine, he just seemed sincere. "I love you, Whitney. I only want to be with you."

"I know, I do, I know that. I love you too and I trust you, but I guess it just still feels like you being in love with me is too good to be true."

"I don't think that you do know," Chris insisted. "I'm completely committed to you. I know it's only been a few months, but it's been some of the best months of my life. What we've been doing - you, me and Grayson just hangin’ out and being a family - it's what I've been dreaming of since he was born, it's what I've always wanted. I can't imagine a future without you in it, I don't even want to think about it. I love you and I love the life we're building together."

I felt my eyes grow glassy as he spoke, my heart melting at his words.

"Wow," I murmured quietly. It was a lame response to such heartfelt words, but I was trying to process everything he’d said and, after a moment of staring into his beautiful eyes, I choked out a laugh. "That almost sounded like a proposal."

Chris chuckled and nodded his head.

"I know. Even I wondered where I was going with that for a minute there," he admitted. "It wasn't, but it's all true. I'm in this for as long as you'll have me."

He lifted my hand up to place a kiss on my knuckles and I suddenly felt ridiculous for having any doubts.

"I feel the same," I assured him. "I really do. I don't want you to think that I'm not as invested in this as you are. I just like how things are now and thinking about it changing scares me."

"It'll be different, but we can make it work."

I smiled and crawled into his laps, letting my knees rest on either side of his thighs.

"I guess I've just been spoiled these last few months," I mused, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. "I don't want to share you with the world, I want you all to myself."

Chris chuckled as our foreheads rested against each other.

"You really are clingy," he teased. "I always thought I'd be the needy one in this relationship."

"Shut up," I giggled, pressing our lips briefly together again. "And for the record, all those sweet, wonderful things you just said aren't getting you any closer to convincing me we should have another baby yet."

Chris' head fell backwards as a laugh burst from his chest.

"Alright, alright, well, it was worth a shot," he smirked. "But seriously, that's how confident I am in us. It wouldn’t even scare me if we did because I know we can handle it."

I smiled even though I probably didn't share quite that much confidence in our future. I wouldn't bet against us, but I wasn't ready to bring a baby into a situation that might not be such smooth sailing in a few months.

"We have to think about Grayson too though," I pointed out. "He's had a lot to deal with the last few months, a lot of big changes. Throwing a sibling at him on top of everything else might be a little bit cruel."

"That's true," Chris relented, looking a bit defeated for a moment until a smile slid onto his face. "He'll be such a good big brother though. He'll be so excited to teach him everything he knows."

"Him?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. "We're going to have another boy, are we?"

"Him or her," Chris shrugged. "I'd be happy either way."

I couldn't help, but smile at his enthusiasm. It was a nice thought even if it was clearly a more distant fantasy for me than it was for Chris.

"One day," I assured him. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you too."

With a strength that never ceased to amaze me, he then stood from the couch, lifting me up with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, giggling at the impressive feat as he carried me to our bedroom where we spent the rest of the night showing some physical appreciation and love for each other.

-

December

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

[arvinsescape]

Heartbreak

A/N: Based off this request that i recieved:  Hey is it okay to do a Tom imagine where him and the reader have been dating for two years they are at toms house having a famliy dinner with his parents and brothers but the reader has been keeping a secret from Tom and she finally told him that she applied to work in New York he feels hurt and upset that she kept it from him and they argue and she ends up breaking up with him breaking his heart and his famliy have to pick up the pieces when she leaves him. As always i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Language, heartbroken Tom.

W/C: 2.2K

You’d been with Tom for a little over two years and this had been by far one of the happiest relationships you’d ever been in. You get along well with his family and saw them regularly, even when he was away. You had a beautiful little flat in London together and although things were going well, you couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed with your current job. You’d recently seen a job offer in New York and couldn’t help but feel intrigued by it, it looked interesting, so you’d sent in your application. You knew you should have mentioned it to Tom before sending in your application, but you hadn’t. The excitement you felt towards the job preventing you from really thinking about how he would feel about it, you knew he’d be supportive, he always is.

You were currently sat around your dining room table with Tom’s family, having invited them all round for dinner that evening, and conversation was flowing well. You’d not seen each other for a few weeks and there was a lot to catch up on, you’d all been relatively busy doing different things. You were currently engaged in a conversation with Sam, he knew that you’d been looking for a new job so naturally the conversation turned towards that.

“So, how’s the job hunting going?”

“Meh, I’ve applied for a few things over the last month but not had any luck.” You shrugged your shoulders as you answered him.

“That sucks! You’ll find something.” Sam said reassuringly. You quickly glanced at Tom before you said what you were going to say next. It didn’t seem like he was listening, talking to his parents, so you tried your luck before speaking. You knew you shouldn’t really have told Sam before you told Tom, but you’d tell him later, when everyone had gone.

“I actually saw a job that I found interesting this week.” You said as you turned your full attention back to Sam. You hadn’t realised that Tom had finished speaking and was now listening. You hadn’t mentioned anything new to him, so he was intrigued. “It’s in New York! But I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

“You applied for a job in New York?” Fuck! You thought as you heard Tom’s voice, hurt evident. You turned to him before speaking.

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you tonight! Like I say I haven’t heard anything back.” You said as you reached for his hand. He pulled back, mumbling a ‘whatever’ as he turned back to talk to his parents. His attitude continued to be cold towards you for the rest of the evening. It didn’t go unnoticed by anyone around the table, Tom usually being very affectionate towards you. You tried to grab his hand a few times but were met with the same response. You were aware you’d upset him, but not quite sure in which way. Was he upset you didn’t tell him? Or was he upset that you’d possibly be moving to New York? So many reasons ran through your mind and you started to feel angry with him.

He got up and started to clear the table, making his way into the kitchen. You looked at his mum and she just gave you a sympathetic smile. You huffed as you got out of your chair following him into the kitchen. He might have been upset with you, but he could have waited until his family was gone until he gave you the cold shoulder. You were angry with him at this point. As you made your way into the kitchen, you noticed he’d busied himself with the washing up.

“Have I upset you?” You asked, question directed at his back. He just shrugged and carried on washing up.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” He huffed.

“Well I do.” You fired back. He turned around and dried his hands, eyeing you carefully.

“Please Y/N? My family is here, and I don’t want a scene.” He pleaded and this made you angrier.

“What? Like you’re not making it obvious something is wrong?” You asked sarcastically.

“Yes, you’ve upset me. Like I said I don’t want to talk about this right now.” He replied.

“Look, I’m sorry if I upset you but I don’t understand. I don’t know if I’ve got the job and I was going to tell you.” You replied, voice slightly raised. Tom huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Before or after you’d told the rest of my family?” He fired back at you. This made your blood boil further.

“So that’s what this is about? Because I didn’t tell you first?”

“If you want to make it that simple Y/N, then yeah I suppose it is.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You asked, well more shouted at him.

“I mean, you told Sam before you mentioned a thing to me. You mentioned you saw and applied for the job earlier this week, you’ve had many opportunities to tell me. So, I’m just confused as to why you didn’t.” He stated in a matter of fact tone.

“Seriously?” You knew deep down he was right, but you were angry, and it was starting to take over. “I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s not like I’m sat here saying I got the job and I’m moving away tomorrow. Does it really matter that I told Sam first?” You said, anger clear in your tone. You knew his family could probably hear but again, the anger had taken over.

“To me it does, yeah!” He shouted back at you.

“So what, you don’t want me to have the job or what?”

“I never said that, did I? You’re putting words into my mouth.” He hissed back you.

“Well you’re making it sound like that.” You knew he wasn’t; you were just trying to deflect the point. You were too stubborn for your own good and didn’t want to admit that in this instance you were wrong.

“I’m not and you know I’m not.” He challenged you. “I’m upset that you didn’t tell me because it makes it seem like you were hiding it from me, and I can’t understand why.” He reasoned.

“For fuck’s sake. I wasn’t hiding it! I just forgot to tell you. It’s not like you ever ask me about it anyway.” You shouted back at him.

“What the hell do you mean by that?” He asked defensively.

“You might have known about it had you asked me first, but you didn’t, Sam did.” You sneered back at him. “You don’t take any interest in my life.” Again, you knew that wasn’t true, but you were just trying to hurt him at this point.

“That’s not fucking fair.” He shouted back, nostrils flaring. “I do take an interest in your life so that’s just bullshit, and you know it. So what is that how it works with you now? If I don’t ask you about it first, I might not find out what you’re doing? You’d think that applying for a job across the globe would warrant my knowing.”

“Look. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first and I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings.” You said in a sarcastic manner and this seemed to offend him more.

“You know, it upsets me because now I don’t know what you’re keeping from me.”

“I’m not keeping anything else from you!” You screamed at him.

“How do I know. I might not have asked the right questions.” He replied sarcastically.

“Fuck you Tom.”

“What? You said it.”

“I wouldn’t keep anything else from you, you know that.”

“Do I?”

“What the fuck? Like what? What do you think I’d be keeping from you?”

“I don’t fucking know, clearly I don’t know all that much about what you’ve been getting up to recently.” You were both screaming at each other. Seemingly neither one of you cared if his family overheard your argument. Both equally as angry at this point.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, have you actually been going out to work this week?” This was the problem when the two of you lost your tempers, you’d start just trying to hurt each other for the sake of it, anger being an emotion the both of you struggled to grasp hold of.

“Of course I have! How dare you insinuate I’d cheat on you. How do I know what you do when you go away filming all the time. The rumours are out there.”

“Oh fuck you. We’ve been through that a thousand times now. It’s almost boring to bring up again.” He huffed as his dad made his way into the kitchen.

“Guys, I think both of you need to calm down. This doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and it sounds like you’ve both deviated from the topic at hand. Neither of you are making much sense.” His dad reasoned as he placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder. Tom sighed as he took in his dad’s words.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His anger had seemed to subside but yours hadn’t, in fact his last accusation had left you angrier with him than you’d ever been before.

“No, I’m not doing this anymore.” You stated. Tom’s shoulder’s dropped at your words as he looked at you.

“What? Doing what anymore darling?” He suddenly said as he made his way past his dad and over to you. He was panicking you could see it in his eyes.

“This. Me and you. I can’t believe you just accused me of that.” You said, nostrils flaring. He was stood in front of you now and as he went to embrace you, you took a step back. His dad eyed the situation carefully, the rest of his family now making an appearance in the kitchen.

“Baby, we both accused each other, come one. You don’t mean that.” He tried to reason, tears now making there way down his cheeks. You were still angry, it was almost like you couldn’t be reasoned with at all.

“That’s the problem Tom! We get angry at each other and we say hurtful shit! We shouldn’t do that.”

“Couples fight Y/N. You know we don’t mean it.” He pleaded with you.

“Look, I’ll come back for my stuff next week. This isn’t working.” You sighed as you turned and made your way towards the door. Sam stared at you in shock as you made your way past him. Tom was following behind you, almost screaming at you and begging you not to go. You really wish that you weren’t so stubborn at times. You exited the flat and slammed the door on your way out before your tears made their way down your cheeks.

Tom stopped as you practically slammed the door in his face. He stood there in complete shock. Tears streaming down his cheeks. His mum was the first to approach him. She grabbed his shoulders and turned him round to face her.

“It’s okay Tom, she’s just angry. You’ll work it out. She’ll be back.” She said sympathetically as she embraced her son.

“But she’s never done that before mum. She seemed so angry.” He cried into her shoulder, wishing he could take back everything he’d said. Maybe you wouldn’t have left then.

“We all let anger get the best of us Tom. I promise it’ll be okay. You love each other, she’ll come home.”

“What if she doesn’t? What if that’s really it?” He couldn’t help it now, he’d completely broken down in his mother’s arms. He felt like a child again.

“Then we make sure you’re okay and offer you any support you need.” His mum answered as she rubbed his back.

“I love her mum.”

“I know you do.”

“I want her to come back.”

“I know you do.”

“Should I go after her?” He asked as he pulled back to look at his family who all had sympathetic looks on their faces. It was his dad who spoke next.

“I don’t think that will do much good right now son. She’s angry and she needs to calm down, you both do.” Tom nodded, his dad was probably right, he usually was.

“It’s all my fault.”

“You were both at fault son. You both let your anger get the best of you.” He gave his son a small smile.

“Look, I’ll make you a cup of tea and you should get some sleep okay? Call her tomorrow and I’m sure you’ll work it out.” His mum said as Tom sniffled and nodded, making his way to the room you shared. He got ready for bed and pulled back the covers, he moved to your side of the bed and grabbed your pillow. He stuffed his face into it as a fresh wave of tears came, he already missed you. He doesn’t think he’s ever cried so much in his life and the heartbreak he was feeling was incomparable to anything he’d ever experienced before. He fell asleep before his mum came back, face still stuffed into your pillow as his heart broken tears stained his face.

Part 2

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[highdramas]

bandit like me | criminal!bucky

warnings: language, violence, references to criminal behavior, allusions to sexy shit, bucky being a cocky asshole

word count: 2197

summary: if you and bucky are doomed, you want to see the glorious fallout.

note: this is the start of a bucky au series which will eventually be based on the heist from oceans 8! this is just an intro to bucky’s history with the reader, and their dynamic, but i’m so excited to continue!

enjoy! <3

god, you love vegas.

there’s a certain sort of dirty glamour that you can’t find anywhere else, you think-- and while you spend the majority of your time in new york these days, you find that your heart always has a certain tug to las vegas. after all, it is where you got your start as one of the finest pickpockets and swindlers on either side of the mississippi.

among other things.

it’s where you met james buchanan barnes for the first time.

you’d heard his name like a whisper in the wind for years before you met him in person. james “bucky” barnes, criminal extraordinaire. of course, you were young, and you had stars in your eyes and you had not yet been hardened by the world. you had not yet had to kill your way out of a shady job, had not yet conned a man of everything he was worth.

that was your favorite part, you think.

taking from men what they had earned unfairly.

if justice wasn’t coming for them, you would bring it upon them yourself. you would take it all and you would feel no remorse. their wealth, their assets, their connections.

sometimes, even their wives.

but those were petty games that you had played when you were young. you like to believe that you are more mature now; both in your swindling and in your personality.

sometimes, you miss those days. you miss running with natasha and chewing up men and spitting them back out. you miss the high of pulling off a real good job. you miss watching a man crumble beneath you, begging for mercy. of course, you would never give it. but you would make a show of thinking about it, and natasha would laugh, and she would say, “stop playing with your food, honey.”

that’s another thing.

you rarely reveal your real name.

not even to your closest confidants. not even to natasha.

no, you find that there are two ways that you introduce yourself. you either stare straight with a narrow gaze, murmuring something along the lines of, “your worst nightmare.” or, you smile sweetly with an outstretched hand and your head gracefully tilted. “call me honey.”

there’s only one person that you’ve worked with who knows your real name.

and he’s sitting at the hotel bar.

already, you can feel your annoyance begin to bubble. you can do one of two things-- you can saunter over there and properly ignore him, knowing that he will notice you instantly. or, you can go up to your room.

you decide you need a drink more than you need your sanity.

somehow, you’re sure that he already knows you’re here. you approach the bar and tap on it, smiling at the bartender. “cosmopolitan.” you turn your head to the right and he’s already looking at you.

“i thought you’d never show, doll.”

a smirk begins to play on your lips, and you thank the bartender as you slide your drink to yourself. “i should get a restraining order,” you muse as you lift your glass to your lips, taking a lengthy sip. “you creep.”

bucky laughs and he takes a sip of his own drink, and you don’t even have to look to know what it is-- whiskey coke. god, you always gave him shit for it. told him he should at least drink his whiskey neat. he would always give you that same stupid smirk and he would say, “what, i can’t have a little sweet, honey?”

“that’d be no fun,” he says and god you know that he’s right, but you hate to admit it. “who you here for?”

all the attempts of not looking at him are futile, and you throw a glance in his direction. he looks as glorious and handsome as ever. the man drips with luxury. from his suit to his hair to his beard which has grown out slightly since the last time that you saw him-- everything about him tells you that he is expensive. “you think i’d tell you?”

“i’m here for pleasure, darling. i’m not going to infiltrate on your job.”

you scoff. “i have a hard time believing that. when are you ever not thinking about work?”

bucky’s desire to work is the cause of all of his success, as well as all of his problems, you think.

part of you feels sorry for him, knowing how much stress he places upon himself. another part of you can’t help but resent it, knowing it is the reason that you two would never, ever, ever possibly work as something more than easy flirtation and a good night between the sheets.

“i’m a changed man, honey.” bucky gestures to the barstool beside him. “you gonna stand and drink that all night?”

a pointed look is thrown in his direction and you finally take a seat. “you knew i would be here, didn’t you?”

“heard from nat,” bucky takes a sip from his drink. “i’ve got some intel on your hit.”

your hit isn’t your normal vegas regular. no, your hit is alexander pierce, one of the highest ranking government officials you could sink your claws into. you���d met him networking at an event in dc and he had been quite interested in you, which you always liked to use to your advantage. luring him out to las vegas took little effort and much amusement, buying you time to do your research.

you’d clear his room of all his belongings and sell off the paperwork to your government contacts who would purchase them for a steep price, and you would be on your way.

without a trace.

you were good at that part. going off the grid. no social media footprint, nothing to track you by-- you were living in the world partially invisible. you like to keep it that way.

though, sometimes it gets lonely.

no one knows that better than the man who sits beside you now.

“spit it out, then.”

bucky smiles and for a moment, you think he might say something else, but he begins to divulge quickly. information about his security detail, shift rotations. information you could’ve found out easily, but don’t mind having handed to you. but you’re less interested in that. your brows furrow as you look at him. “how far out of your way did you go to get this intel?”

he gives a nonchalant shrug. “far enough.” he smiles. “gotta help out my girl.”

“i’m not your girl,” you say with a smirk. “if anything, you’re my bitch. getting me intel, following me around to tell me.”

this gets a laugh out of him and you look forward again, finishing off your drink. “now that’s my girl.” he throws a hundred dollar bill onto the bartop and follows suit, tipping his head back to empty his cup of its contents. “walk with me?”

you stare and watch as he outstretches his hand to you. despite your better judgement, you take it. the pair of you walk side by side until you’re stepping out into the still warm air, but the breeze offers enough of a chill that the hairs on your arms stand up. bucky looks over at you and begins to shuck off his jacket, making you immediately protest. “bucky, no--”

but he’s already draping it over your shoulders, and you are tugging it just a bit closer to you, and you note that it smells like him. like that stupid ysl cologne you bought him all those years ago.

well, you didn’t buy it. you’d stolen it.

no words are exchanged as you move along on the sidewalk, watching on at people busking and performing on the street, ignoring the elsa’s and spiderman’s who try to pull you in for photo ops. one of them gets particularly aggressive and bucky pulls you into him, as if you’re not a woman who has driven a dagger into the gut of a man for far less, saying, “move along, pal.”

“so touchy tonight,” you purr, leaning into him slightly when he doesn’t remove his arm from your waist. “like the good ‘ole days.”

“oh, you remember?” bucky jokes, and it already has you laughing. “you were acting so coy back there in the bar, i thought that you might’ve forgotten me altogether.”

you shake your head and you stop in the street. you wear his jacket and he straightens his tie and he smiles down at you. “of course i didn’t.” you jut your chin up. “doesn’t change anything, though.”

what doesn’t it change, exactly?

it doesn’t change that the last time you saw james buchanan barnes, you had told him that you loved him. and he had told you that he loved you in return. and you had both agreed that it needed to end now before either of you caused irreversible damage to the other.

criminals being with criminals never ends well.

“not a thing,” he agrees with you. he pushes a piece of hair back and it’s getting harder to remember why you were so stubborn when it came to him. why, exactly, you felt the need to push your feelings away so desperately. “wish it would, though.”

“yeah.” a small, almost shy, smile works its way onto your lips. “me too.”

bucky’s jaw slacks and his fingers trail your cheek, and you can feel the cool metal of his rings against your flesh. “it’s not like this with other people, is it, honey?”

“of course not,” you nearly hiss. “is it like this with other people for you?”

bucky has a knowing sort of smirk. “no.” he wets his lips, his eyes settling on your lips for just a beat too long. “it never will be.”

the tension surrounds the both of you, and you’re the one to break it. you press your hand to bucky’s chest and push on it slightly, pushing him away, pushing away all of the feelings and confusion that comes with him. “we’re not doing this tonight. i’ve got a job to do in the morning.”

you begin to walk, and bucky is on your heels. “so our pillowtalk can be about work,” he says, and you can practically hear the cocky and sly charm in his words. “i made sure to get a king bed. and a bottle of moet.”

again, you stop, and you turn to him. you’ve nearly walked a circle around the block, and you can see the hotel not far off. “you really got info from nat about my job, got me intel to butter me up, and then want to take me to bed?” you huff and even you can’t help but laugh. “nothing’s changed, barnes.”

you set off again and he groans, following after you. “you know it’s not like that.” he catches your wrist and he spins you, getting you to face him. “it’s never that that… simple with you.”

you rip your wrist from his hand and make your way into the hotel lobby, making sure your hips swing just a bit more than usual. you remember bucky laughing and gripping those hips on a late winter night in new york city, nearly three years ago now-- “such a tease,” he had said into your ear.

“bucky,” you say as you both approach the elevators. “it’s not happening.”

he sighs and he hangs his head. “yeah.” he looks up at you. “i do miss you, doll.”

“yeah, i know.” the elevator doors open and you step into them. bucky tries to follow after you, but you hold your hand up. “i’ll be seeing you, james.”

“see you, honey.”

the doors click shut and you practically collapse. the effort of pretending to not love bucky is exhausting.

in a blur, you go to your room and unpack your things. you take off your makeup and your expensive jewelry that you plucked off the wrists and necks and fingers of random passing civilians during all of your worldly travels. when you pick your phone up, you notice that you have a text from an unknown number.

floor 45, room 7.

you roll your eyes and toss your phone back onto the bed. you’re a strong woman-- certainly strong enough to resist the temptation of knowing exactly where to find the one person that you want.

one hour passes. you scroll through instagram.

another. you finally crawl into bed.

three hours. it’s nearly three in the morning and you cannot sleep.

by four, your feet are in slippers and you wrap a silky robe around your body.

you don’t move. 4:30am blinks at you on the clock.

at five, bucky is opening the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and staring at you.

“don’t say a word,” you hiss before you’re grabbing for him, pulling him to you, and pressing your lips to his.

but bucky is a smug asshole. as you move through his suite, his hands are everywhere, and he pushes you back onto the bed. once he’s hovering over you, his lips just a ghost above the shell of your ear, he can’t help but whisper…

“looks like nothing’s changed.”

[chocoholicannanymous]

Concepts of Insanity (Glee)

AN: No proofreading whatsoever. Subject to rewrite if I change my mind about it. Take it or leave it.

Concepts of Insanity

“Kurt? Oh, there you are, good. We have an emergency!”

Kurt smiles a little as he finishes up rearranging the flowers. He adores Isabelle, he really does, but she's a bit...excitable. There's always an emergency, or a disaster, or a catastrophe. So far today there's been four, unless he's miscounting; a lose hem, a missing delivery of non-alcoholic champagne, Isabelle almost fainting from forgetting to eat, and the flowers he's currently fixing not being enough something or other. He's actually kind of curious what it is this time.

He gives the flowers a last look, nods with satisfaction and turns around. The smile on his lips dies the second he meets Isabelle's eyes. This isn't a normal emergency.

“What's wrong?”

“The musicians are here, only the vocalist is currently throwing up to the point where they've called an ambulance.”

Kurt winces. That doesn't sound good for whoever it is. Also it really doesn't sound good for them. Isabelle had gone out on a limb with the small ensemble she'd hired for the event, deciding to make the music more than a background by having some songs performed with vocals. To have the vocalist missing would throw off the setlist. Maybe not enough for most people to notice, but at an event like this? Someone would definitely notice.

Especially since word seemed to have spread.

“I've spent the last ten minutes on the phone, and there's not a single vocalist to be had. This is so bad, Kurt! I'm never going to hear the end of this.”

Kurt hesitates, uncomfortable with voicing his possible solution, but deciding to offer it up anyway. It's Isabelle.

(Plus Rachel will never forgive him if he doesn't and she finds out.)

“I know it's not what you were aiming at, but my roommate is a NYADA student, and I know that most of the songs you picked out is in her wheelhouse. I could call her? If she answers she could hop in a cab and be here in 30 minutes.”

Isabelle looks a bit hesitant, but nods.

“Please do. I'll pay for the cab too, obviously. Check back with me in 5 minutes?”

Kurt agrees and hurries out to a silent space, phone in hand already dialing as he walks. There's no response for his first call, and Kurt leaves a hurried voice mail for Rachel to call him asap as it's an emergency. He then sends the same message as a text before trying to call again. He manages to squeeze in a total of five calls before he has to return to Isabelle, without response.

Maybe Rachel's in the shower again. Or singing. Or on a date with Brody.

“I'm sorry, Isabelle. I couldn't get hold of her.”

“Never mind, I have an idea. Can you do it?”

Kurt stares at her, not quite believing he heard her right.

“Me?” She nods and he shakes his head. “Isabelle, you've never even heard me sing!”

“True. But honey, I know how good you are with fashion. For you to chose music over that you have to be either insanely talented or just insane. So, will you do it?”

Kurt wants to shake his head again. What she's suggesting is crazy. Yes, Kurt can sing, but... His focus on music is more and more looking like insanity. He's just gotten rejected by Carmen Tibideaux a second time, for crying out loud. “Devoid of complexity and depth” echoes through his skull.

Except. This is Isabelle asking. His fairy godmother of sorts. He owes her.

“Are you sure? I'll do it, if you really want, but I'm not going to be anywhere as good as whoever you'd hired,” or Rachel for that matter, “and I don't want to ruin this for you.”

“You are going to be amazing. Thank you, Kurt, you're a lifesaver!”

And with that Isabelle floats off, leaving Kurt in a dazed state. He's going to panic, sooner or later, but for now he's still too stunned for it.

Right. His first action has to be to talk to the ensemble. The plan was to have the vocalist on three sets of three songs throughout the evening, but he's not entirely clear on what numbers had finally been picked. He will probably need to review lyrics up until the guests arrive, provided he can actually manage all of them. He's got a good range, yes, but that's not everything.

Oh, and he should swing by Isabelle's office and nab the blue west he'd spotted earlier – he'd dressed to fade against the wallpaper, not to be seen.

The first set goes well, as does the second. By the third and final he's lost enough of his nerves to let Isabelle drag him out on the floor instead of going off to hide as he'd initially planned. Several people drop by to talk, and he gets more than a few compliments. Maybe it's more about looking good to Isabelle than about actually liking it, but Kurt will take it anyway.

“So, you must be not just a talented singer but talented in fashion too for Isabelle to have taken you under her wing. Do you study fashion or music?”

The woman, Nadia something, asking sounds genuine and so Kurt gives her a small smile and answers as pleasantly as he can.

“Neither actually. I'm applying to NYADA though.”

There's a flash of something in her face, but Kurt can't quite make out what it is.

“For the spring semester? Ah.” She hesitates, sends a look towards where Isabelle is talking animatedly about something, and then looks at Kurt again.

“Can I be honest? Carmen Tibideaux is a very talented woman, in everything she does, and she's got an eye for picking out talent. However, she's also got a bit of a reputation.

“She loves to discover new talent that others overlook. Except every now and again she'll go about it in a rather underhanded way. She'll have someone audition, someone talented but a little raw around the edges. Someone with a ton of talent but a weak resumé, often with a little less self-esteem than most performers. She'll praise them and then turn them down. Most of the time they'll come back, looking for a second chance – she said they were great, right? Surely that means they'll get the part sooner or later, if they just approach it right.”

Kurt swallows. It sounds a little too familiar for comfort.

“Sometimes she'll turn them down both a second and third time, and then she'll put them on the spot, giving them another chance as long as they step out of their comfort zone and perform to her standards. And then she'll take them, and she'll own them. They'll go through their whole careers claiming they owe it all to her.”

She looks Kurt in the eyes, sincerity radiating out of her – but Kurt knows how little that means, in these circles – and a kind expression on her face.

“I'm not saying that's you, but for you to be applying to the spring semester, with your level of talent... If she's doing it to you, you should know you're not the first, and I doubt you'd be the last.

“Any school would be well served to have you as a student, I think. I already know you're talented, and as I know Isabelle I also know you have to be hardworking. Plus, seeing as that ensemble always works with a female vocalist I'm assuming something happened to have you step in at the last minute, meaning you stand up to pressure.

“NYADA is not the only school in New York for a young man like you, and I'd argue that it's not the best either. Think about what I've said, will you? And thank you again for a very enjoyable performance.”

It's only years of pretending in the face of bullies and a worried father that allows Kurt to pull of a believable goodbye and graceful exit. After this he's definitely hiding in Isabelle's office, damn it.

When Kurt comes back to the loft it's late and he wants nothing more to fall into bed, nighttime routines be damned. But Rachel's sitting on the couch, waiting for him judging from the expectant look on her face.

“I tried to call you.” It comes out a little flat, but Kurt doesn't have the energy to pretend. He needed her, called an emergency damn it, and she hasn't even texted him back in the six hours since his frantic calling.

“I heard, but I was busy practicing my number for tomorrow.” She doesn't even look sorry.

“Oh? I thought you said you didn't have any assignments for tomorrow.” That was why he'd felt safe calling her, after all.

She just waves a hand, clearly not too bothered.

“Nothing official, no, but that's no reason not to be ready to perform. I'm sure there will be an opening for me to dazzle my classmates.” And she goes on to describe the songs she's considered, and who's done them, and why her version is better, and Kurt just...tunes her out.

She hasn't even asked what he wanted. It's as if the thought hasn't even passed her mind. Well. If she's not interested then he's not going to waste his time telling her – especially not since she's bound to get upset over losing an opportunity to perform for an actual audience. He's also not going to waste his time listening to her go on about what she'd done instead of checking in on him.

“I'm going to bed.”

“Kurt! I need your input on this, surely bed can wait a bit?” When he shakes his head  her face hardens. “Fine, be that way. NYADA is hard, you know. It takes dedication. Maybe if you showed a little more of that you would have gotten accepted.”

Kurt shoves down the desire to slap her and bites out a “goodnight” before stalking off to bed. He can't believe she went there. Oh wait, he can. It's so Rachel, to just look at herself and ignore everything else. Show more dedication? Devoid of complexity and depth. Fuck her. Fuck them both.

Kurt had knocked his audition out of the park. Rachel and madam Tibideaux both had admitted that. Meanwhile Rachel had choked. Yet he'd been rejected while Rachel fucking Berry swanned around NYADA claiming to be dedicated. She never should have gotten accepted based on her audition. And somehow he just knows that there's no way she'd admit that Kurt should have been given that spot, not her.

As for madam Tibideaux and her “I rarely give anyone a second chance and if I do it's on my terms”... Bah! Rachel had harassed her way into her second chance. Hell, she'd recruited several others to also harass the madam on her behalf.

But somehow Kurt reapplying was the foul thing here. Right.

Maybe it was time he looked at options other than NYADA. That woman at the vogue event, she'd said that other schools might be a better fit for him. She'd sounded like she knew what she was talking about. Unlike Kurt, honestly, who'd pinned his hopes on NYADA based on Rachel. Hindsight has him questioning if he'd been slipped something, because leaving his college education up to whatever Rachel wanted? Insanity.

Well. Insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result, right? Clearly it's time to change his approach.

O--o---o--O

A week later Rachel comes home from the NYADA Winter Showcase bubbling about her success and how she's taken them all by storm. She makes a snide comment or two about how Kurt should have been able to see it for himself, had he taken the ticket she'd gone through so much trouble to acquire for him instead of doing whatever (it's called work), and Kurt just nods. He doesn't really care, but. He has to at least pretend to listen to preserve peace in the loft.

“Oh, I almost forgot! Madam Tibideaux asked after you.”

Kurt stills like a dog scenting prey. This he wants to hear.

“Oh?”

“Yes, apparently she was considering giving you another chance at applying. I don't know why she had to do it tonight, as it's for NYADA students and you're not, but she did. You should probably contact her. If you apologize properly she might still be open to it.”

Rachel looks at him, waiting for a reaction and clearly not pleased with what she's seeing.

“Well?”

“I'll think about it, Rachel. Calm down.”

And he will. Only he's not too eager to apologize to madam Tibideaux, or give her another chance to toy with him and probably reject him (he didn't show up for what she had planned, after all). It all sounds very much like what Nadia described at the vogue event. He listened. He might not have liked what he heard, or wanted to believe it, but he listened. In more than one way.

Over the past seven days he's written half a dozen applications to various music schools in New York, and sent them out. His current favorite is the New School, where a tour of the campus has given him a very good vibe. He'd be happy there, he thinks, and they might be happy with him. At least that's his take from meeting a couple of faculty members, one of the more prestigious of which just so happens to be Nadia.

Who would have guessed that doing a favor for Isabelle would lead to this? He might just owe her even more by now. Fairy godmother indeed.

~ The End ~

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluffiest fluff ever, jealous amoreena, jealous spencer, the LaMontagne family is in this too !!

word count: 3.8K

from the beginning <3

He went to work with Y/N on Tuesday to fill out all the paperwork and officially become an employee at the D.C Public Library. He signed a contract, he was switched over to a different government healthcare, answering a million calls and emails all morning, he was officially not an FBI agent.

They had lunch together in the park, buying some sandwiches and walking across the street to a picnic table to talk about their days while they ate. He liked her co-workers, they all were shocked to find out she was “married” to him after being single the whole time she’s worked there.

They had plans to go get Amoreena from school a few minutes early, before heading to meet his mother, not telling her about the plans unless Diana had a bad day last minute and couldn’t see them. So far, according to the nurses, she was lucid and having a great day waiting for them.

“So about yesterday morning,” Y/N changed the subject, biting her lip like she was avoiding this.

“What about it?”

“Amoreena really wants us to have a wedding, I was thinking we could go up to New York for fathers day and have another fake wedding?” Y/N hypothesized her plan, hoping for Spencer’s approval.

He couldn’t help but smile, about to answer when he got an email on his phone. “I’d love to do that, it would be nice to go on a vacation with just as the three of us.”

“You can check that,” she said, noticing he looked at his phone as it buzzed.

It was an email. Not from anyone he knew, it wasn’t about work or healthcare, it wasn’t his mom or Penelope sending him funny things from the internet…

No, it was from Taylor Swift. He tried his best to calm his facial reactions and micro-expressions so she’d think it was just something work-related. An emailed contract, updated health forms, nothing too serious.

To: Spencer Reid From: Taylor Swift Subject: Amoreena

Hey Spencer!

Portia reached out and said that your wife and daughter are huge fans and you were interested in some summer tickets in Virginia… I was thinking if you guys ever found yourself in Rhode Island you’d all want to come to my place, my doors always open for friends 💛 Love Taylor xx

“What?” Y/n asked, trying to read over his shoulder as he turned the phone away.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, locking his phone and putting it in his pocket to reply to her later. “Have you ever thought about a beach wedding? Rhode Island is pretty nice in June.”

She tilted her head as she bit back a smile, wondering what he was planning, “Amoreena will have us reenact the little mermaid 2 instead of Enchanted then, just fyi, but yeah that sounds fun, we should get a beach house on Airbnb for the weekend.”

“Okay, let me handle it all, you don’t need to plan a single thing, just show up with a dress?” Spencer offered, knowing how scared weddings made her now.

She kissed his cheek softly, resting her chin on his shoulder as she leaned over on him, “nothing fancy or crazy okay?”

“Define crazy?” He teased her… she really had no idea what was coming.

To: Taylor Swift From: Spencer Reid Subject: RE: Amoreena

Thank you so much for the quick response and generous offer, we were thinking of having a small elopement in Rhode Island with just the three of us over Father’s Day weekend if that works for you? Seven is the song we danced to at our intimate personal wedding, however, Amoreena’s pretty sad she didn’t get to witness it, that’s why we’re having another one with her. (And hopefully you!) Thank you for making my girls so happy over all the years that I didn’t know them yet, you’re probably their favourite person in the world, even more so than me! It would mean everything to them to meet you or see you in any way, you’re incredibly kind for this.

Thanks again, Spencer Reid x

He tried his best to be as calm and nice as possible in his response, still managing to rant a little even in text format. It was just how he communicated, either not at all or all at once. He was so excited for Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you said your mom has a scrapbook,” Y/N changed the subject after Spencer spent 5 minutes in silence, turned away from her as he answered an email.

“She does, she’s going to show you a lot of photos of me today,” he smiled at the fact she remembered.

“I know you want to tell her about Amoreena alone before we come in, so I made her something for her scrapbook, it’s back on my desk drying,” Y/N was so precious as she got excited, that same giddiness he see’s in Amoreena bursting through her.

“Okay, let’s go see it,” he put his phone in his pocket and followed her back across the street towards the library.

On some beautiful floral scrapbook paper, Y/N glued an array of photos of Amoreena from the beginning all the way to the museum trip last week.

A photo of her first round of IVF, dated February 19th, 2013. Exactly 1 month after he donated, she must have chosen his sample as soon as it entered the system, even a photo of the sample jar reading “sample 2319”, A photo of her crying in the garden with her grandma when she found it she was pregnant, wrapped in a big coat and surrounded by snow. Her pregnancy announcement being a baby sock on a stuffed toy Sully from Monsters Inc, "new door opening November 2013!" Amoreena has been surrounded by references to books and movies since the beginning.

There was a photo from the moment Amoreena was born, crying and brand-new, resting on Y/N’s chest as she sobbed, more beautiful than he’s ever seen her before, completely in love with the child she made.

Amoreena Margery Y/L/N - November 13th, 2013, 9:53 pm 7lbs 12oz, 21 inches of perfection

“Her middle name is Margery?”

“Yeah,” she smiled back at his ever glowing face, wondering why it was so important to him. “Like Margery Kempe, my grandma’s favourite.”

“She’s my mom’s favourite too,” Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, it was such a strange turn of events. He saw so much of his mother in Amoreena just for her to have a middle name related to her.

Y/N couldn’t believe it, “I’m so excited to meet her!”

“I just hope she’s okay today, truly,” Spencer worried. “She is my best friend and a great mother, don’t get me wrong. But some of the things she did to me on her bad days were scary, and I never want Amoreena to experience that.”

Y/N pulled him into a hug, “it’s hereditary isn’t it?” He nodded against her shoulder as she tried to soothe all the impending anxiety out of his body. “I’m not going anywhere, she won't have to raise herself and care for you, that’ll never happen to her.”

She guessed, and she was right. Reading his mind like she’s already been in there and watched all his trauma, she knew all the right words and how exactly to push his feelings away. She was sunshine clearing his grey skies once more, about to cause a drought so he’d no longer rain on his own parade. Marching beside him, hand in hand into the future.

—

They waited at the gate of Amoreena’s school, none of the other parents were waiting yet, giving Y/N a chance to show Spencer around the yard and tell him about her school. “She’s in senior kindergarten, she has a November birthday so I opted to send her in when she was 6 instead of 5, giving me an extra year of home pre-school.”

“That’s why she’s so smart, not my genes,” Spencer smiled, walking around the edge of the gate with her hand still in his.

“They want her to jump right into grade 5 next year, I said no, she deserves a childhood with children she doesn’t have to compete with or see her as a threat,” Y/N voice was stern even in the recounting like she knew from experience. “Because she’ll be 8 in November she’s going into grade 2 instead, then she’ll be in the same age range and mental level, but all her friends she knows in grade 1 will be in the same recess yard as her.”

“I went from kindergarten to grade 4, then I jumped to grade 6 when I was 9 and I graduated high school at 13, it was terrible,” Spencer agreed, not knowing if he had a place in the decision but wanting her to know he agreed with it.

“Let’s go inside and get her,” Y/N smiled at him, understanding his meaning perfectly and dragging him into the school.

“Hello miss Ludlough,” Y/N beamed as she entered the main office with her arm tucked under Spencers, showing him off slightly.

“Y/N, good afternoon! Do you need me to call that little angel down early?” The secretary was a lovely older woman, wrinkled and happy as she smiled back.

“No, I just need to get some paperwork to put her dad in the files?” Y/N surprised Spencer with that and he almost stopped breathing.

“Really?” He whispered, capturing her attention as her eyes twinkled up at him.

“I’d like you on her emergency contacts, if they can’t get ahold of me I’d like you to be with her,” Y/N confirmed, patting his shoulder softly as Miss Ludlough handed her a few forms.

Spencer signed everywhere he needed to, handing them his licence to be photocopied into her file for proof when he picked her up in the future. He was glad to see there was a system, that they cared for his little girl and she wasn’t going to be going home with anyone who wasn’t in that file. And if she did he had no problem hunting them down and getting her back in whatever way he had to…

He shook the thought out of his head as it arises, reminding himself that that isn’t who he is now and she would be fine. They lived in a happy world where bad things didn’t happen.

Y/N’s hand rubbing his lower back helped, he stood straight again and pushed the papers over the desk, smiling as he officially became her father on 3 different sheets of paper. That was as real as it could get.

“Spence?” He heard an all to familiar voice from behind him.

Turning to see JJ and Will smiling with wide arms, waiting for his embrace. “What are you doing here?” She asked him, voice high as she was clearly shocked.

He walked into her arms and held her quickly, “I’m here with my wife,” breaking the news to her in the most casual way possible. “Picking up our kid.”

“Y/N?” Will noticed her then, “holy shit, you’re the wife?”

She nodded with a smile, hugging will quickly like she has known him for years, “how are you, cowboy?”

Spencer and JJ looked at each other incredibly confused, JJ clearly didn’t know her so how did Will?

“Will and I have been on what, 6 school trips together? Michael and Amoreena are buddies,” Y/N explained with a soft smile, “I knew Henry and Michaels's names sounded familiar…”

“Nini thinks I’m a cowboy,” Will laughed lightly, smiling at Y/N the way he did at JJ and something in Spencer almost snapped thinking about Will being the one person between him and the girl he liked, once again.

Only this time she was his wife and not the cute media liaison who had no interest in him until he came out of prison.

“She was very upset when she found out that Will was already married, she wanted us to be Woody and Jessie from toy story,” Y/N had no problem ranting about how their kids got along and how good of friends they had become over the last 2 years of school trips.

Y/N noticed the anxiety in Spencer’s eyes as he pulled away from JJ and made sure no one was touching him, “luckily, our little girl’s got the best daddy in the whole world now and all her dreams came true.”

“She sure does,” JJ agreed, “Hey, I gave your mom all those books you gave me for the boys, when you were away, so she had something to keep remembering you with, you should give them to Amoreena.”

“I will, we’re going to see her tonight,” he was able to push past the feelings and enjoy the moment of his friends meeting his wife, even if the title was just pretend.

“I’m so excited,” Y/N shook her hands the same way Amoreena did, stepping into Spencer's space and wrapping her arm around him. “Can we pick her up from the room Miss Ludlough?”

“Sure thing, do you want me to call down and say Mikey’s parents are here too?”

“Yes, please,” JJ smiled over the counter.

With the four of them walking down the hall together to get their kids, Spencer felt like he was sleepwalking. Too many emotions were running through his veins to feel real, but then Y/N took his hand in hers and rested her cheek against his arm as they walked and he was fine.

She tugged on his arm and waited in the hallway while JJ and Will entered the classroom first, “what’s wrong, she’ll know you’re upset?”

He sighs, shaking the stupidity out of his mind. “I had a huge crush on JJ before they got pregnant with Henry, and when I came back from prison she told me she had always loved me and it got weird for a bit and I’m still kinda mad when I see Will bond with the people I love.”

“I was wondering when you’d get possessive,” she teased him, “I’m yours and I wouldn’t have your ring on if I wasn’t, no matter how another man looks at me, I only love you.”

“I’m sorry, I know.”

“It’s okay, you’re not used to this are you?” She saw right through it. “Am I your first real girlfriend?”

“Kinda, Maeve and I never even really met until she was kidnapped,” he admits and it sounds so childish in his mind.

“Okay we’ll talk about this later cause that sounds like a good story I should know,” she tried to smile, standing on her tiptoes to peck his lips softly before smiling more. “Let’s go get your kid?”

“Let's,” his smile returned.

They turned the corner into the vibrant room, Amoreena was talking to Will when she noticed Spencer at the door, running towards him and almost pushing Will over to do so, “Dad!”

He picked her up and snuggled right into the crook of her little neck, giving her the biggest hug he’s ever given and not realizing just how much he missed her until she was back in his arms again. His baby, the littlest life he’s ever held this close to his heart.

When he put her down he noticed all the women’s eyes were on him, hands over their hearts at the pure display of affection between father and daughter. They all saw him as her dad, they had no reason not to, giving him all the attention he’s never received before.

“What are you doing here?” Her tiny voice asked as she beamed at him with wonder.

He kneeled in front of her to get on her eye level when Michael came running over, “Hi uncle Spencer!” He tackled him into a hug.

“Uncle Spencer?” Amoreena’s brow furrowed as she scowled at the boy taking her dad’s attention, she pulled Michael back by his shirt. “That’s my dad!”

“Amoreena, honey,” Spencer tried not to laugh, she was definitely his kid, “Michels mom, JJ, is my best friend from work and I’m his older brother Henry’s godfather, they’re your cousins.”

She looked at him like he was insane, “what’s a godfather?”

“If anything bad happens to his mommy or daddy and they can’t take care of them, they’ll come live with us,” it was the simplest answer, “I’m not their father, I’m yours.”

She nodded and hugged him again, sticking her tongue out at Michael in the process, “why are you here?” She repeated the question.

Y/N was standing over him with a hand on his shoulder then, “we’re taking you to meet your other grandma.”

Amoreena started to shake with excitement, moving her hands and grinding her teeth as she smiles, shrieking with excitement, “I have another grandma!?”

JJ was watching from the corner of the room, secretly filming it on her phone for the rest of the team to see Spencer with his baby. A sight many of them never thought they’d ever see as he slowly lost hope, losing himself somewhere along the way and no longer wanting to accept their help. This was a big moment for the team too, their little brother was finally happy.

—

In the car, Spencer sat with Amoreena in the back seat so he could tell her everything about her new grandma. Or as Amoreena wanted to call her, Princess Diana, “I can’t believe you’re actually royalty!”

They all laugh at how her fantastic little brain works, “you can’t tell anyone that Princess Diana is in DC okay? It’s a government secret!” Y/N teased from the driver's seat.

“I’m like Princess Mia!” She screamed at the top of her lungs and Spencer was astounded she could be that loud.

“Okay, okay, not that loud! we can't scare any of the people who live here. They like it to be calm and quiet so the patients can be happy,” Y/N settled her down, “Dad is going to go in and tell grandma all about us for a little while and then we’ll go meet her okay? He wants to make sure she’s happy today before we go in.”

With that, they were pulling into his mother's care facility and he felt like he was going to be sick with excitement. He used to visit his mother with the fear of rage and disappointment in her eyes, he was too proud to let his anxiety take that from him today.

He kissed her forehead before getting out, Y/N handed him the scrapbook pages through the window and he leaned inside to give her a kiss too. Receiving a disgusted groan from Amoreena, he pulled away and walked into the building while they found a place to park.

She was waiting for him in the garden, sitting at a picnic table with her scrapbook and gifts for Amoreena. “Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled as he hugged her, “how are you feeling?”

“Fantastic, where is this family you made?” She was so ready to meet them, truly there inside her mind and willing to learn more about this life he was making.

“Sit down first,” he said softly, taking a seat beside her at the table and placing the scrapbook page on the table. “This is my Amoreena.”

Her fingers glided over the words, “Margery,” she repeated her middle name with a smile. “She has a sperm donor for a father?”

“I’m a sperm donor, mom,” he smiled softly as he broke the news.

She turned to him with shock, “she’s yours?”

“We think so, so that’s what we’re telling people, she’s mine regardless.”

Diana wrapped him up in another hug, “I’m so happy for you Spencer. You always deserved a perfect family, I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you. I hope your dreams come true with her.”

Just like that Amoreena and Y/N were rounding the corner and walking over towards their table. She had a huge smile on her face and a card in her hand, walking right up to Diana and handing it to her.

“Hi, grandma, I’m Amoreena,” she introduced herself politely before stretching her arms out for a hug.

Diana wrapped her up in the softest little hug, trying not to cry in front of her brand new granddaughter, which was fine because Spencer was the one crying. Turning away from them so Amoreena wouldn’t see as Y/N patted his arm with a smile.

They were fast friends, Y/N and Diana bonding over Margery Kempe and while Amoreena opened the two gifts Diana got for her, a simple colouring book and Spencer's original copy of Matilda from when he was a child. She sat down in the grass and read it while they all caught up, lost in her own little world.

It was the most perfect afternoon, just him and his family, happier than he’s ever dreamed he could be.

—

He checked his phone one last time before bed, Y/N was sitting against the headboard reading a book and so deep in the story, he knew she wouldn’t be able to read over his shoulder.

Scrolling through everything from the day to see that yes, there was a response from Taylor Swift. It felt insane, but he opened it and started to read her plans.

Spencer!! You’re so sweet, I’m sure you make them incredibly happy! I’d love to have you stay in the guest house here, and I’m ordained if you need someone to make it real and official ♥︎ let me know what I can do, I’d love to help in any way to make some fairytale dreams come true! Taylor xx

Smiling like an idiot, he closed his phone. He’d reply tomorrow, till then he was going to snuggle into his wife and appreciate their time together.

She lifted an arm to let him lay against her chest, “today she woke up and decided to be an explorer, the little girl with the wildest imagination stormed out of her home and towards the unknown part of her land. It was her destiny to travel across the bridge and unite the people beyond the field, towards the pond that was swallowed by willow trees,” Y/N read the grandmother's thoughts from the page.

“With her wooden sword, she sliced and diced on the ivy that surrounded the gate. Freeing the hinges and allowing the entrance to swing open, unlocking a new area of the world for her mind to wander.

“For what the regular human eye saw, Amoreena saw it times a million. Every colour and then some, new colours appearing in the morning glow as she stared at the dew on the leaves she just chopped through. She saw the world in a way that made everything exciting, there was never a bad thing, only good things with interesting quirks.

“She passed every mushroom and toadstool, every strange-looking tree and human-shaped moss ball, greeting them with a good morning as she strolled through the once-forbidden forest. Her adventure only beginning, the objective not yet known.”

“Your grandma could see the future,” Spencer whispered as she turned the page, “that’s our wonderful little girl’s mind in words.”

Y/N kissed the top of his head, “our wonderful little girl.” She repeated the words, loving the way they sounded on his tongue as much as he loved how she said it.

Taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[tobesolonely]

muse

A/n: hello everyone!! im very excited to put this out :-) i was going to make a long one shot but ive never written anything multi-part before and i wanted to give it a go!! also my first time with an oc 🌟so i hope everyone enjoys!! not sure when the next part will come out but i wanna upload at least once a week or every two weeks or something idk haha but anywayssss lmk ur thoughts!

biggest, biggest thank u to my love @harryysstyless​ for beta reading and being so encouraging<333 luv u!!

photographer oc x harry styles

please let me know your thoughts on miss aminah, iman, serena, and harry!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

Los Angeles was your newest muse.

You had always been the spontaneous type. It came as no shock to your family and friends when you told them you had purchased a one-way ticket and were moving across the country. Although your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter moving so far away from them, they helped you withdraw your savings and find a modest apartment in LA before sending you on your way.

Your reason for moving to LA was simple, really. You were a freelance photographer that felt your career was growing rather… stagnant. You had a thick portfolio and were proud of the work you produced, but your clientele wasn’t as impressive as you’d hope it would be after nearly six years of working at it.

And so began your desire to move from New York to Los Angeles— one big city to the next.

People who knew you often described you as ambitious, fiery, and an absolute go-getter. If your big move scared you in any way, no one knew any better. Your confidence never faltered— not even in the slightest.

After nearly three months of being in LA, you developed a routine of sorts. You’d wake up, eat a breakfast that almost always consisted of avocado toast and coffee, and go on a run. After your run, you would come home, shower, and decide how far you wanted to venture to take pictures that day.

Sometimes your roommates, Serena and Iman, would join you to keep you company. Although you’d never met either one of them before answering their ad for a roommate on Craigslist, you had grown extremely close to the girls in the few months that you’d known them. Despite the two girls being friends since their childhood, they never made you feel left out, and you fit in with them effortlessly.

During your short time in the city, there were so many places you had been, but still, even more you had yet to see. Serena and Iman, both native Angelenos, would often suggest spots for you to check out and even offer to drive you around— you were from New York after all, and at twenty-four years old, you were still not the owner of a driver's license.

“You’ve never been to North Hollywood yet, right Aminah?” Iman questioned as you all lounged around, trying to come up with a place you had not yet been.

“No, I haven’t really gone anywhere farther than walking distance,” you reply, looking around the cramped living room for your camera bag. “Or the places you guys have driven me. That was still considered Downtown though, right? Where we went the other day?” You were still getting used to how absolutely massive Los Angeles was.

“We should go to Santa Monica or something— wait, Malibu!” Serena exclaims. “We have to go to Malibu, Mina. It’s so nice there, you could totally get a bunch of good shots.”

“Yeah, we might even see a celebrity!” Iman chimes in, stifling laughter.

It was an on-going joke between the three of you. When you first moved to LA, you told your roommates that you couldn’t wait to make your way around the city because you were hoping to run into a celebrity. It was Los Angeles after all— you figured they were everywhere.

You quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Celebrities here kept a low-profile and even if you did encounter a celebrity, it’s not like you would approach them. “You’re not funny, Iman,” you tell your roommate with a roll of your eyes.

“Yes I am,” Iman quips, wiggling her eyebrows. “If we’re gonna go to Malibu then I gotta change. Can I borrow a cute shirt from anyone?”

A short twenty minutes later, the three of you were piled in Serena’s car on your way to Malibu. You’d heard of the city before and knew it was a wealthy area, but that’s about it. Your roommates promised you that out of all the beaches in LA, Malibu had the nicest ones, and lots of places to take pictures. Since none of you had anything to do, you all decided it was as good a day as any to have a beach day and get some shots of your roommates to add to your portfolio. Since you didn’t know anyone except Serena and Iman, the pictures on your camera from the last few months consisted entirely of nature and inanimate objects. While it was good practice, you really preferred to photograph actual people.

“Traffic is so bad today,” you say from the backseat after traveling approximately two feet in five minutes. Iman snorts from the passenger side.

“When isn’t traffic bad, Mina,” she turns to look at you, an amused look on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It always gets backed up at this fuckin’ exit and then as soon as we get past it there’s like, zero traffic.”

“Right! I always complain about how shitty this exit is. I have no clue who designed it,” Serena adds, skipping through songs on her playlist. “It’s still early in the day, though. I’m just hoping the beach won’t be too crowded by the time we get there.”

“I don’t care how crowded the beach is. I just don’t want it to take us forty minutes to find parking…”

You tune out your roommate's voices, instead choosing to focus on the traffic jam outside the car. To Serena and Iman, people who were born and raised in Los Angeles, the city wasn’t necessarily anything special. Sure, they loved how there was always something to do, but the bad drivers, traffic, and smog got old. The novelty of LA hadn’t yet worn off to you, though. You didn’t know how your roommates were content to sit inside the apartment all day when there were tons of things to do basically right outside your doorstep. You felt like you were the one convincing them to go out with you half of the time, and you didn’t even know where you were going.

After what feels like almost entirely too long but was really only half an hour, Serena pulls into a fairly empty parking lot. “Are we not allowed to be here?”

“Why do you think that?” Iman asks, squinting her eyes to read a sign. “It doesn’t say it’s closed. I mean, there are a few cars–– look.” She points to a few cars scattered around the parking lot.

“I mean, it is nine in the morning on a Wednesday. People are probably at work,” you tell the two girls in the front seat. “Besides, there’s someone in the parking booth. Can you even close a beach?”

Serena drives forward, rolling down her window. “I mean, I guess not. You can close the parking lot, though.” You hum in agreement. She quickly pays for parking and tosses her receipt on the dashboard before driving slowly through the parking lot.

“I love when no one’s at the beach,” Iman sighs, clapping her hands. “No one will get in the way of your picture-taking either, Meens.”

You smile at the nickname. “Yeah, that’s true. We picked a perfect time to come too, guys. The lighting’s great.”

“Really? Is it gonna make my skin pop?” Iman turns around and sticks her arm out, sensually running her fingers along it.

“You always look good no matter what the lighting’s like, Iman,” you reply, refraining from rolling your eyes at her. “You have the glowiest complexion out of all of us.”

“We’re literally all the same skin-tone, Aminah,” she retorts, crossing her arms.

“We have different undertones, though,” you answer. “So not really. Plus, Serena is way lighter than us! What are you talking about?”

“Should I park here?” Serena asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Why here? All these empty spots and you wanna park directly next to this car?”

“This is a good spot, Iman. It’s a parking lot. If they didn’t want anyone to park next to them, they should’ve taken an Uber and got dropped off.” She turns into the spot, quickly putting the car in park and crossing her arms to prove her point.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, smiling at your friends’ bickering. They were so close they were basically sisters. They argued sometimes and were quick to call the other out on their shit, and you loved it.

“I just think you’re weird for parking next to this car. It’s a nice car.”

“Who cares, girl?” Serena groans, exasperated. “We’re gonna be on the beach. They’ll probably be gone before we will.” She pops the trunk before unplugging her phone from the aux cord and stepping outside. Iman mimics her before flinging the door open as well and stepping out of the car.

You make sure your camera bag is closed all the way before situating it over your shoulder and climbing out of the car as well.

“It’s kinda cold,” Iman says, wrapping her arms around her body. “If I knew it would be so overcast I would’ve bought a jacket.” Serena hums in agreement and you look up at the sky, unphased.

“It’s like, seventy degrees?” you look at the weather app on your phone in confirmation.

“We get it, Meens. You’re from New York,” Serena teases, closing her trunk. She hands you a few towels and a blanket to carry while she rolls the cooler and Iman carries the beach chairs and umbrella.

“It’s a cold seventy degrees and you know it,” Iman defends. “Look at my goosebumps. I can’t fake this shit.” You shake your head at your overly dramatic friends and follow them down to the beach. You take off your sandals as soon as you’re off the pavement, wiggling your toes in the cold sand.

“We can set up pretty much wherever we want,” Serena points out, tucking flyaway curls behind her ears. “Where do you think the best place to be is, Mina? Y’know, so you can get good pictures?”

“It doesn’t really matter, to be honest,” you tell them distractedly, too busy looking around the beach in awe. Your friends were right–– out of all the beaches you’d visited in Los Angeles so far, this one was the nicest (and cleanest). “Maybe we can get a little closer to the water?”

The three of you walk for a couple of minutes before Iman abruptly stops, dramatically dropping everything she was carrying. “Let’s just set up here. There’s no one around anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“There actually is someone around,” you tell them, looking at a stranger who seemed to be fixated on staring at you and your friends. “Don’t look, but a cute guy is staring at us.” Serena and Iman immediately turn around, shading their eyes from the bit of sun that was starting to peek through the clouds. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away from where you were setting up.

...“Huh,” Serena says, turning back around. “Is it just me, or does that guy look a lot like Harry Styles?” She looks back over her shoulder again, but he’s no longer staring at the three of you, focusing on what appeared to be a book instead.

“Why would Harry Styles be at the beach by himself at nine in the morning?” Iman asks, unfolding a beach chair and flopping down on it.

“Why wouldn’t he? It’s Malibu, dude,” Serena responds. You could tell your friends were about to start bickering again, so you quickly jump in.

“Doesn’t matter. Neither one of you would go up to him even if it was, so what’s the point in arguing about it?” They both raise their eyebrows at you.

“And you would, Mina? Bullshit!” Iman exclaims, laughing. “I dare you to go see if it’s him, and if it is, ask him if he wants to join us.”

“That’s weird! What if it’s not him?”

“Even if it’s not him, we’ll still get to hang out with a cute boy.” Iman points out. Serena nods in agreement and you can’t deny that she makes a convincing argument. “Just ask him if he wants a mimosa or something!”

“No, don’t ask that,” Serena interjects. “Tell him that you’re a photographer and you’re working on building a new portfolio. Ask him if he would be cool with you photographing him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you sure that’s not weird, Serena?”

“Aminah, trust me. I wouldn’t deliberately let you make yourself look weird.” Your roommate reassures you.

And so you found yourself clearing the short distance to where the handsome stranger was laid, half hoping it was Harry Styles, half hoping it was not. You couldn’t act like you weren’t a fan of him–– you thought he was incredibly attractive and enjoyed his music just like most people. If Harry Styles was the first celebrity you encountered during your short time in Los Angeles, you‘d never stop talking about it. Ever.

When you’re almost to him he looks up, dog-earring the page he’s on. After making eye contact with him, there’s no mistaking that this is Harry Styles. You pinch the back of your hand, urging yourself not to freak out. He has a knowing look on his face and you’re grateful for your darker complexion that hides your blush.

“Hi,” you speak first, stopping a few feet away from him. “Uh, my friends and I are just uh, we’re... you know.” You internally wince at your inability to form a coherent sentence. His gaze never breaks from yours and you look away first, growing shyer by the second. If you thought he was beautiful on Instagram, he was even more gorgeous in person. It was incredible.

“Hi,” he finally says after a brief moment of silence. “‘M sorry if I was starin’ at you ladies a moment ago. I jus’ usually never see anyone else this early out here. Are you a photographer?”

You almost ask him how he knows when you realize your camera is still hanging around your neck. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” He’s still staring intently at you.

“Would you like to sit?”

You look over your shoulder at Serena and Iman who were pretending to be preoccupied putting on sunscreen, but you know they were waiting for you to come back with the man you now knew to be Harry Styles.

“Oh, my friends are waiting for me,” Harry looks up at you patiently, waiting for you to continue speaking. “I was actually going to photograph them. I’m working on building up my portfolio. I understand if you can’t for… I dunno, legal reasons? Or if you just don’t want to–– and that’s fine if you don’t, but would it be okay if I photographed you as well?”

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun. It’s kinda boring jus’ readin’ out here on my own,” he agrees quickly, surprising you. Harry stands up and stretches a bit before leaning down to gather up his blanket, towel, water bottle, and book. “What’s your name? I’m Harry.”

You know that Harry knows that you know exactly who he is, but the fact that he introduced himself to you makes him even more endearing. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aminah.”

Harry extends his free hand to you. “It’s very nice to meet you, Aminah.” You love the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth.

As you approach Serena and Iman, their eyes go wide when they realize it really was him. Serena nudges Iman and you know without even having heard it that she’s saying, “I told you so!” Harry stops a bit behind you, smiling at them.

“Hello,” he starts. “S’okay if I join you ladies? Aminah here extended such a nice offer that I jus’ couldn’t pass it up, but wanna check with the two of you first.”

Serena’s mouth is shamelessly hanging open, and you realize that she may have been a bigger fan than she let on. Iman answers for them. “Of course! Mina’s building her portfolio and I bet it would look like, super cool, if you were a part of it!” Harry nods, setting the few things he had with him down.

“I don’t think I would even be the center of attention if ‘m sittin’ beside you beautiful ladies. I’ll jus’ act as a prop or something,” he flashes them a dimpled smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your names? I’m Harry.”

“We know,” Iman answers a little too quickly. “I’m Iman and this is Serena.” Serena gives him a timid wave.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you all. Are you guys from around here?” He lays his blanket beside all of your stuff and sits down cross-legged, not once breaking eye contact with any of you. You had no idea how he did it.

“We live Downtown. We’re only over here so Mina could get some good pictures, she’s a photographer,” Iman answers proudly. “She’s amazing, but she’ll never admit it.”

“Iman…,” you trail off. “Stop, dude.”

“It’s true,” Serena jumps into the conversation, now seemingly over the initial shock of who was sitting barely two feet away from her. “She’s the best photographer I know.” Harry turns to look at you, an amused look on his face.

“That’s a hefty claim. I can’t wait to see your photography skills, Aminah.”

“They’re just hyping me up,” you reply, making a mental note to yell at your friends for embarrassing you once the three of you were alone again. “I’m not that good.”

“That looks pretty professional to me,” Harry says, gesturing to the camera that has not yet left your neck since arriving at the beach. “I bet you’re just as good as they say you are.” You look away, hiding your face. Iman, being the wing woman she is, can tell you’re growing flustered from all the attention and moves the conversation away from you.

“Do any of y’all want a mimosa?” Before anyone can even answer her, she’s popping open the champagne and handing the orange juice to Serena to open. Harry politely declines, as he drove himself to the beach that morning. You and Iman are ultimately the only ones who indulge in a drink since you were the only ones not driving.

Talking to Harry was like catching up with an old friend. He wanted to know everything about the three of you and whenever he felt the conversation was becoming too much about him, he quickly changed the subject. Harry learned that Iman and Serena have been friends since the second grade when Iman pushed some boy off of the monkey bars for teasing Serena. He learned your favorite take-out spots, your favorite bars, and what freeways Iman and Serena tried to avoid at all cost (it was the 405, which he agreed with). What seemed to intrigue Harry the most, though, was him learning that you just moved from New York and had never even been to Los Angeles before moving.

“Why did you pick somewhere all the way across the country that you’d never even vacationed at before?” He had a look of confusion written across his face. You shrug, not really knowing the answer.

“I mean, I’ve seen it on TV shows and in movies. That doesn’t count?” you joke. Harry still looks utterly bewildered.

“I mean… no?”

Serena laughs. “We were just as confused as you were, Harry. We were scared for a moment when she moved in because we were like, oh shit, what if she’s insane? You know? Like, what sane person would move all the way across the country to live somewhere they’d never even vacationed before?”

You let out an offended, “heyyyy”, lightly smacking Serena’s thigh. “I just needed a change and I’m a drastic person! I either go all-in when I do something, or I just don’t do it at all.” You defend yourself.

“I actually think that’s really fuckin’ cool,” Harry says after a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could just… up an’ go. Y’know?” you all nod, and it falls silent again. “Well, should we take some pictures now?”

Any intimidation you felt to photograph Harry disappeared as soon as he started posing for you.

Being that he was a major celebrity, he was no stranger to posing for a photoshoot. Harry was ethereal–– you knew the pictures of him would most likely require minimal to no editing. Serena and Iman also looked incredible, and you were thankful to have such gorgeous people as your muses. You were taking pictures of them in various places around the beach, only stopping once it started getting too crowded. There were starting to be too many people in the background of your shots and Harry wanted to get going, not particularly in the mood to be recognized. The three of you decide you should get going too. You had more than enough pictures to go through and besides, you were all starting to grow hungry.

Harry follows the three of you to the parking lot, keeping his head down the entire way. The closer you got to Serena’s car, the sadder you got. You didn’t want to stop talking to Harry and photographing him. However, you knew you were just in the right place at the right time, and it was likely that you’d never cross paths with him any time soon–– if ever again.

“Thank you for letting me photograph you,” you tell him sincerely once you were almost to Serena’s car. “That was really kind of you. I can promise you I won’t post them anywhere without your permission or like, disclose the location or anything like that.”

Harry finally looks up, determining you were far enough away from the crowds and he was no longer at risk of getting recognized. “It was my pleasure, really. Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends. It was a lot of fun getting to know you all.” You feel your body heat up.

“Where did you park?”

“Right there,” Harry points straight ahead. “You?”

You let out a loud laugh, causing Serena and Iman, who was walking slightly ahead of you and Harry, to turn around and look at the two of you. “We parked right next to you! Iman was getting on Serena for parking next to you because the lot was pretty much empty when we got here this morning.”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess it’s fate that we crossed paths then, yeah?” You let out a quiet hum in agreement, stopping a few feet in front of Serena’s car. You hear her and Iman debating on where you should stop for lunch, but you were waiting to see what Harry would say next.

“Aminah? After you get a chance to look at those pictures, do you think you can send them to my manager? His name’s Jeff. I’d love to see how they come out.”

“Oh yeah, of course! Do you have his business card or something?” You were excited that Harry actually cared to see your work but based on the couple of hours you spent interacting with him, you learned he was just an overall insanely kind person.

“I can jus’ put his contact info in your phone? If you don’t mind,” his gaze falters, a sheepish look on his face.

“Totally! Let me just unlock my phone,” you dig in the pocket of your shorts, pulling your phone out and unlocking it with your face. You hand it over to him and while he’s looking down typing you glance over at your roommates who had shocked looks on their faces. You would explain to them later that he wasn’t giving you his number, just his managers, but for now, you’d let them think he was giving his number to you out of all people–– a total stranger.

Harry hands it back to you a few moments later, running his fingers through his hair. “Thank you again for such a great morning, Aminah. I’ll let you get goin’, don’t wanna hold you ladies up any longer,” he waves at Serena and Iman. “It was really nice to meet all of you. Hope to see you all again soon.” You notice that his gaze lingers on you for a moment when he says that, and you feel your body heat up for what must have been at least the tenth time that day.

The three of you watch as Harry unlocks his car and throws his items haphazardly into the passenger side before climbing in, slamming the door shut. His car starts immediately afterwards and he gives you a quick nod before quickly backing out of the spot, leaving. None of you say anything for a bit, just processing what just happened. Serena is the first one to speak, her hand on the handle of her car door.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Harry fucking Styles?” her voice raises at least two octaves and you know she’s about to have a mini freakout. “Did he ask for your number, Meens?”

“No dude, he just gave me his manager's number. He wants to see how the pictures come out after I edit them,” you tell her, opening the backseat of her car. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, that’s definitely a big deal, Aminah. Stop being so humble,” Iman tells you, exaggerated annoyance lacing her voice. “Did you see how he looked at you? When he said, ‘Hope to see you all again soon’?” She puts on a terrible posh accent.

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, shaking out the blanket and beach towels before throwing them onto the seat. “Where are we gonna eat?”

Iman and Serena pile into the car as well, telling you about the three restaurants they were stuck choosing between. You hum distractedly, typing the name ‘Jeff’ into your contacts to see if Harry left a number and an email, or just an email. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the name is nowhere to be found in your contact list. You chalk up the mistake to Harry just forgetting to press ‘save’ after creating the contact and figure you can just find his manager’s contact information on the internet somewhere. As you’re scrolling back up through your contact list, your eye lands on a name that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

Harry Styles.

[broadwayandnetflix]

Slow Down - Bill Hader x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Fluff + 1/4 of Angst

Summary:  Hi I’ve literally been binging all of your fics and I didn’t know if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Bill Hader where the reader is sick and passes out at SNL and Bill helps them and takes them home

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Ahh thank you so much for your patience @bduchrnskei​ I really hope you enjoy this fic and it met your prompt expectations. I absolutely loved writing this one amongst all of my evil schoolwork, but what can you do? 

Living in a small-sized New York City apartment was not all that it’s cracked up to be. Whether it’s the heavy traffic and clutter of construction that never halts or the extreme temperatures during any season.

In this case, in particular, winter.

Or, more specifically, in this case, your heater broke, and it had become like an iceberg within your apartment space. As stated by your landlord, the repairmen were supposed to come on Saturday night, and as of right now, it was Thursday.

So bundling up had to do, in a way, you kind of missed the heater’s incessant rattling, as it had become a sort of a white noise these last few months.

You hadn’t been in New York City for very long, a little under a year, maybe? It wasn’t like you to pack up and move randomly to the Big Apple, but after clearing a spot as a new cast member with Saturday Night Live. It was most certainly a must.

Ever since you were little, you’d always had a knack for making others laugh or just getting to see someone smile. Saturday Night Live became your goal, and to secure it was like winning a million dollars. Even if it meant having to endure New York’s extreme seasonal changes.

This week was no different in the typical workflow; you were technically a new cast member. So the number of sketches you had been in was significantly limited. Still, you loved it nonetheless, with the lack of skits that you had been in lately allowed you to get to know your cast members more.

Specifically, your other recurring cast members like Nasim Pedrad and Jenny Slate, the three of you would often meet up for coffee on Sundays. Taking the time to decompress and discuss your favorite sketches of the week. It was nice to have a group of people you could relate to and find solace in, especially when the weeks became stressful or exhausting.

And oh boy, did your week’s become exhausting, especially on Saturdays. You shuddered at the thought of dress rehearsal as it stretched late into the night; losing sleep was worth the excitement.

You looked at the clock, it was nearing close to four in the morning, and you still had been awake at this point. Maybe it was the cold or the thousands of thoughts swirling through your mind, much like the snow accumulating outside.

Work was gonna be a bitch tomorrow.

You sneezed at the thought, sighed, and made sure to set your alarm before letting sleep take over.

-

You awoke with a headache and a blaring alarm that was erupting from your phone. Groaning, you shut the phone off and tried to ignore the incessant pain protruding from your forehead.

Swallowing some painkillers, you got dressed, grabbed your keys, and headed to work. Totally not picking up a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way.

“Why good morning Y/N!” Jenny chirped as you walked into the room, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“You sound oddly chipper, what happened?” you said as you put down your stuff, eyeing her curiously.

“She got some sleep, that’s what happened.” Nasim replied, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Lucky duck,” you murmured, instinctively reaching for your coffee as well. It coated your throat nicely, you sighed in content.

Jenny only smirked before starting up another conversation with Nasim; you let your eyes wander across the room. Everyone in motion, working hard to make sure shit got done. That’s the thing about working at 30 Rock; no one ever really stopped moving.

One thing that you still had not gotten used to was Monday’s. The grueling and exhausting twenty-four hour stretch period of planning and concocting up sketches. It was a scary feeling, as if you could ever compare to everyone else.

Every now and then, a pitch you threw into the ball pit would get picked, the tiny butterflies in your stomach reminding you why you did what you did.

Your eyes landed on a particular figure as he strolled into the room. His hair beautifully tousled, eyes half-open, and shirt resting ever so comfortably upon his chest. You diverted your eyes quickly, only to feel yourself begin to sneeze.

Fuck, for the love of all that’s holy, please do not sneeze in front of Hader.... too late.

He looked up, meeting your widened eyes, and gave you a soft smile. It lingered for a bit until Andy swept up from behind and hugged him along by the arm. For a second, you could’ve sworn he was gonna look back, but Andy had appeared to say something.

“Bless you!” Nasim and Jenny said in unison.

You mouthed thanks and leaned back against the wall, replaying the scene over and over again.

“Thinking about Hader again?” Jenny asked, following your line of sight, as she nudged you in the side playfully.

“Jenny! Not too loud, he might hear you.” you frantically whispered, a stern look aglow in your eyes.

“Oh honey, it’s so obvious.” Nasim chimed in, Jenny nodding eagerly in response.

“Plus he’s too far away, you’re more than safe Y/N, I think it’s cute that you like him. All the more reason to make fun of you.” Jenny says quickly before she is shoved by Nasim.

“I’m joking! I’m joking! Okay maybe not fully joking.” Jenny yelps, giving you a wicked grin.

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes in embarrassment. It was so bad, crushing on cast members, but man, was he handsome. Although you had denied it, a lot of your favorite sketches from the past weeks always seemed to involve Hader.

It was not like it was gonna go anywhere; you two barely spoke, and plus you’d probably be a mess if you did. Every now and then, though, you’d often find Hader sitting beside you at table reads. His laugh is always so goddamn infectious, and Jenny and Nasim eyeing you playfully like schoolgirls.

God, you were a mess, and it seemed like everyone knew it. Maybe even Hader knew; let’s hope he doesn’t.

“You know Y/N, I’ve never seen Hader as shy as he is when he’s around you. I mean the man literally sniffed my hair yesterday,” you quirk a brow, “But- but with you, he’s soft” Nasim’s voice crowds your thoughts, and you instantly look up to meet her in disbelief.

“Bullshit.” you retort, trying to ignore whatever attempt she was trying to make.

“Girl, you’ve kind of got a point. He’s not as jokey as he usually is whenever he’s around you Y/N.” Jenny adds, only to be interrupted by Lorne calling for a meeting.

Ah, how could you forget? Dress Rehearsal. While these days didn’t run as long as the others, they were equally draining and stressful. The three of you walked to Lorne’s office just in time as the rest of the cast stood beside you.

You felt yourself to begin to shiver unexpectedly, hugging yourself tightly. Since when was 30 Rock so cold? You felt Nasim look at you questioningly, and you shrugged her off.

Lorne had discussed the skits’ arrangements for the day, murmurs of excitement beginning to spread like wildfire around the room. Everyone just itches to get out and see if their sketch would succeed or bomb.

You took your seat in the audience as the sketches would come and go, meeting your cues whenever necessary. At the same time, your painkillers had seemed to wear off as your headache only seemed to get worse.

You made your way backstage to find the building’s first aid kit, only to brush past another coworker. That just so happened to be Bill Hader.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, slowly clamping it shut; his eyes met yours in slight confusion before softening slightly.

“Woah, hey Y/N, everything okay? You were in kind of a hurry there.” he asks; you could barely meet his eyes as they searched yours for any sort of response.

“Oh,” you gulped, “Yeah I just have this crazy headache, um I was just looking for the first aid kit.” you say, shifting the balance on your one foot to the other. 

His eyes widened before nodding quickly as if he was just reminded of something. The butterflies in your stomach crescendo as he quickly rested his palm upon your shoulder. You didn’t even know how to act, your body practically freezing at the contact.

“Actually to save you the trouble I have some painkillers upstairs in my dressing room. Not that I have like tons of drugs, but it’s no problem with me if that’ll help your headache.”

You quickly nod in response, trying to hide back a small smile before following him up several flights of stairs. God, you hated being so shy around Bill; it wasn’t like he was some mean old jerk; he was oh so genuine and thoughtful.

The two of you halt at a labeled Hader door; he looks back at you almost to check if you’re still there. Opening the door, he led you in, giving you a quick smirk, before crouching down and digging through the contents of his bag.

You had realized that this was the first time that you had ever been in a specific cast member’s dressing room. In particular, Hader’s room was neat and tidy, but you could see bits and pieces of his character sticking out. You couldn’t help but smile at it all, so caught up in the intricate details you didn’t even notice him get back up.

“Y/N, you good?” he asks; you focus your attention back on him quickly.

His hands outstretched, one holding a bottle of Advil and the other clamped tightly around a water bottle.

“Oh, um yeah. Thank you so much you have no idea how much I appreciate you for doing this.” you say rather quickly, but Hader doesn’t seem phased by your awkward nature.

You reach for the bottle and water, fingers gently brushing against his. The two of you looking down at the contact before parting ways.

Hader clears his throat, and you feel your stomach begin to tighten. Slipping two pills into your mouth, you unscrew the cap and down it carefully.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” he asks while placing the pill bottle back within his bag.

“A little I guess, I mean I tend to get nerves closer to the show. I’m sure at this point though, you’ve become an expert at staying calm.” you reply, his gaze falling towards the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m a wreck Y/N. This show is so stressful it eats at me every week, no matter what. I mean, clearly I’m doing something right and Lorne’s not gonna fire me, but, my anxiety gets so bad.” he says quickly. His eyes widened, and his posture became slightly tenser than before.

You couldn’t help but soften your gaze; you had no idea that he even went through this every week. Even now, with the buzzing tension in the air for tomorrow night, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Let alone the fact that he made the time to help you out.

“I wouldn’t have ever noticed,” he looks back up at you. “I mean, you’ve always just looked so...confident. I just can’t even begin to imagine what’s that like, every week constantly. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.” you quietly admit.

He shakes his head quickly, putting out a hand almost as if he was trying to stop you.

“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you though, it’s awfully sweet to hear that. Especially from someone like you.” Hader’s eyes filled with such warmth.

Was Hader blushing? Or were you losing it? Probably losing it.

“Oh about that headache, everything okay up in there?” he murmurs, stepping just a tad bit closer to you.

“It’s probably nothing, but I do appreciate the help.” you look back at the door, “We should probably get back? Right? Don’t wanna miss our dress.” you say quickly.

Hader nods within an instant, eyes widening at the realization of how long you two had been gone for. He led you to the door, giving you a quick smile before he ran out, murmuring something about a skit that had something to do with the guest host.

You giggle softly, heaving a contented sigh. It definitely was gonna be a long day, and you could’ve sworn that the temperature had just dropped.

Strange.

-

You couldn’t have stumbled into it until at least one in the morning, but sleep had been desperately calling your name. Oh, how you missed having a regular sleep schedule; it would make mornings less of a struggle.

Except this morning was different, or more so than you were used to. The headache that had arrived less than twenty-four hours earlier was now ten times worse. Your body ached, and you couldn’t decipher if the bed was too hot or too cold.

This was torture, and quite possibly the flu, not to mention, you had the show tonight, shit. You practically sprang upwards before feeling the instant aftermath of that decision settling in. It felt absolutely criminal to leave those sheets as you groaned and grimaced your way towards your kitchen cabinet. Eyes barely opened while you blindly searched for the thermometer you had kept.

One quick temperature check later, you were running a low-grade fever. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I mean, you couldn’t miss the show, right? It just didn’t seem plausible, or maybe it did?

You frantically wondered while your fingers grazed over the Google search bar whether going to work with a low-grade fever would be beneficial?

Every answer didn’t really seem to fit the unrealistic expectations that you had set for yourself. Still, one disgusting shot of Dayquil later, you were out the door.

The day went by in a haze, and the headache never really did seem to falter. It was almost like yesterday in a sense, but seeing Hader waltz into the room made you smile. He smiled back.

Of course, Jenny and Nasim knew something was up; they always did. It wasn’t like Lorne was gonna fire you for missing one show; it was the flu. Except, you had made it this far, how bad could it possibly go?

-

The lights were too bright, far too bright for you to even think properly, and your fever was sure burning up. Or maybe it wasn’t, you always had to ask others around for that sorta assistance. Except, this was the primary night of the week and you weren’t gonna ask a cast member to feel your forehead.

Imagine if Hader did, Y/N, please stop being a dork.

You found solace in a large water bottle, but it didn’t do much to help the way your body ached miserably. You looked like a mess, you felt like a mess, but this was the big leagues.

The last time you had checked, the previous performance of the musical guest had been underway. Which meant you had survived, but the exhaustion that had been ever-growing was begging for you to lay down.

The floor looked so good right now, yeah, just for a hot second, ugh why is everything burning up?

Slowly closing your eyes, you let yourself press up against the wall, except there wasn’t a wall right there, and down you went with a thud.

-

Bill had been anxious all night, of course for the show, but for you in particular. You usually always looked so put-together, but tonight something about you was just off. It was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

“Andy, do you notice anything strange about, um, Y/N over there?” he said, trying to muffle the concerned edge that rested within his voice.

“Y/N? Oh that new cast member you like?” Andy replied without much thought, earning a stern look from Hader.

“She’ll hear you, god man you sure can be loud. Whatever, she just looks kind of off man, I’m a little nervous for her.”

Andy’s gaze softened just a tad until something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“I mean normally I would say that she looks fine and you’re just crushing, but I don’t think that is normal.” Bill’s gaze instantly locked onto the same thing, which was you fainting onto the floor.

His body going rigid before ultimately bolting upright, he wasn’t gonna catch you in time. Still, he definitely was gonna help if he could. Although he most definitely wasn’t the only one, other stray coworkers who happened to be backstage stood, jaws dropped.

There you went, tumbling to the ground, and Bill couldn’t help but feel his heart drop. Maybe that headache was worse than you had let up. He felt guilty for not speaking up sooner, but there was nothing he could do now.

They called a medic on the site, trying to keep it discreet as possible. It was a live show; he didn’t think it would be professional if broadcasted that shit.

He tried to fill in all of the details of how you had been acting the past few hours. It felt like he couldn’t do much to help, but he didn’t wanna leave your sight. It was odd; something about you really drew him in, leaving him reaching for more.

Plus, at this point, the last thing he had to do was go on stage while they rolled the credits. Bill was optimistic that this would count as a good reason.

He watched anxiously while the medic’s placed you upon a stretcher, his feet following without much thought. They wheeled you out to a waiting ambulance; he gulped at the thought of you having to be taken to the hospital.

Surprisingly they allowed him inside the ambulance; he was so convinced he’d be forced to wait until god knows how long. The vehicle provided seats off the side, allowing him to catch his breath and try not to worry about his current state.

That is until he saw you looking back groggily at him; now, this was definitely normal, as the medic had explained. He just didn’t see it coming; you blinked a few times, looking around at your surroundings.

-

“Hey, saw you took a little snooze there.” he teased, his gaze never leaving yours.

The ambulance rattled slightly, and you gasped a little before focusing your attention back onto him.

“Is this an ambulance? What happened?” you sat upright, feeling ten times worse, trying to piece together precisely why you and Bill Hader, of all people, were in the ambulance?

“Y/N, you fainted. The doctor’s said you’re burning up, they’re taking you to the ER.” he explained carefully, as you groaned in frustration.

He cocked his head slightly, clearly not expecting that response.

“About that, yeah I think I have the flu, I had a low-grade fever this morning.” you admitted sheepishly, not even daring to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry what?” he exclaimed, his eyes as wide as literal saucers. “Lemme get this straight, you went to work, with the flu?” you nodded, and he ran his hands over his face.

“Listen, I didn’t wanna disappoint Lorne. I mean it’s the night of all nights.” the words came out softer than you had intended; Hader practically melted.

“Oh, did you really think that Lorne’s gonna get pissed at you for having the flu? Oh sweetie, you know your health comes first right?” his words falling ever so sweetly off his lips.

You could barely look at the man, let alone control the multitude of butterflies that jolted in your already queasy stomach. Not to mention that he even thought to tag along, you nodded, not saying a word, focusing on his blue eyes like they were a safety net. Until you closed them, letting sleep overtake you.

-

You awoke once more to the sounds of machines beeping, people going from room to room, and an incessant tapping of one’s shoe.

This was most definitely the emergency room, your eyes scanning its surroundings until they landed on one person in particular. He looked exhausted, more so than you did, and you felt awful given the time it was at night. In fact, it was practically morning.

“You’re still here,” he sat upright, rubbing his eyes, “Thanks for sticking it out, Bill.” you tried to give him the most genuine smile you could possibly muster.

“Of course, I mean I overheard the doctor anyway. You’re cleared to go when you wake up, and definitely have to get some rest. I already spoke to Lorne.” you gaped, but he only stood up.

“Bill, what did he say?” you whisper.

“That you should listen to the doctor, and me.” you raised a brow. “Okay maybe he didn’t say me, but you get the point?” he exclaimed as he helped you get out of the bed.

The two of you walking towards the desk in which you had to sign out some papers, the pen unsteadily perched upon your fingers. Bill’s hand holding securely upon your back, in hopes you wouldn’t stumble. In reality, just being near him set your heart aflutter.

“Now I’m taking you home, but first I was thinking I could get you some soup for home. That sound good?” you could only look at the man in pure awe.

“You don’t have to do this Bill, really, I mean you’ve already done enough.” you gulped, only to see the man give you a smirk, his eyes glinting at you mischievously.

“Soup it is.” his hand clamping against yours, he led you out of the hospital and into the cold streets of New York City.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the little soup shop he’d been talking about; it was cozy and apparently open twenty-four seven. Against his offer, you paid for two soups that looked the most delicious and cupped the cups while strolling back to your place.

“How do you think you got the flu?” he asked gently, looking at you with curiosity.

You had to try not to laugh; I mean, at this point, it was your fault, you subjected yourself to the tundra in your bedroom for the past few nights.

“Well, my heater has been broken for the past few nights. I assume that’s how I got it.” a smile aglow upon your face, giggling at Hader’s shocked expression.

“It better be fixed tonight when we get to your apartment complex. That’s ridiculous, Y/N.” you kept giggling, and soon he joined in with that gorgeous laugh of his.

You enjoyed your time with Hader even though internally you felt like shit; he made it so much more bearable. The air was light between the two of you, he made it easy to open up, and you wanted to know so much about him.

God, wait till you let Nasim and Jenny know about this night. They’re so gonna flip; you just knew it. Not to mention, the big looming ‘I told you so’ that was so coming your way.

“This is it.” he came to a halt, admiring the quaint little building that you happened to call home.

“You do know I’m not leaving until that heater is back on, right?” he ordered, but underneath his serious tone, you could see the concern.

“Oh come on Hader, let’s go see.”

The two of you taking the steps at a time, your body wanting to collapse, but you couldn’t let him know. He stood beside you while you inserted your keys into the lock, twisting it, before walking inside.

“What’s that rattling noise?” Hader wondered aloud.

A huge grin meeting your lips, you looked at him in pure delight, and he soon got the memo. His eyes widening before heaving a sigh of relief, only to halt.

“You call me if you need anything okay? Get some sleep, and um, stay warm. That’s an order, you hear me?” you could see his performance wavering as he tried desperately not to laugh.

“Yes, Sir.” you saluted weakly, but he only began to break instantly.

You really did love that laugh.

Thanks, Bill, for everything, really.” you said as he turned to head to the door, stepping up on your toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His face instantly turned red before trying to compose himself as he walked away. You watched while he left the residence, giving you one last smile.

-

You awoke in a drowsy stupor that next morning to a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Want me to bring you some coffee and breakfast? - btw, this is Bill. Hope this l wasn’t too creepy. I ain’t no stalker.

Maybe: Bill: ps. How do you like your coffee?

Bill: ps.s yes or no?

You fell back on the bed with such a shit-eating grin, only to groan in response to the mistake you had just made.

You: Yes