#kennedy is not in this chapter i am sorry to her fans

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER FIVE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 6.3k notes: masterlist ahead? uh yeah i sure hope it does! decided last minute i didn't really care about any real plot action this chapter outside of tess and paige so if you are disappointed by that, sorry but it's better this way, tess and paige are the plot now🤞 accidentally made this chapter kinda important, it lowk got away from me, but i hope you all enjoy 🫶

‘This Month in Review - The Cutest Sports Couple Since Megan and Sue’

Whether you’re a sports fanatic or a casual watcher, there is no denying that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy have taken the sports scene by storm. They are a topic of conversation in every room – and for good reason. Bueckers and Kennedy were top recruiting prospects out of high school, with Bueckers leading the pack as the #1 recruit and Kennedy following close behind as the #2. They are the current leaders of two superstar programs and despite not having played their full collegiate careers, Bueckers and Kennedy have already cemented themselves as players that will go down in history as the greatest to play college basketball at their institutions.

Bueckers and Kennedy are a power couple through and through, and while neither of them have made anything official, it is clear that they have spent this entire offseason together – even several hundred miles apart. Fans have pointed out that their recent TikTok reposts make references to missing a long distance lover or are largely relationship focused. Their Instagram stories often feature each other. From Kennedy’s Instagram, a recent story showcased a short clip of Bueckers holding a LEGO rose, winking as she blew a kiss to the camera. From Bueckers’s Instagram, a recent story included a FaceTime screenshot of Kennedy, grinning as she threw a thumbs up for the photo, and it was affectionately captioned, “My duo 🎮.”

Additionally, they have been noticeably active in each other’s Instagram comment section:

[IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION: MAY 30, 2023 | BUECKERS IS PHOTOGRAPHED WEARING A LEG SLEEVE, BLUE AND WHITE PATTERNED BASKETBALL SHORTS, AND A BLACK LONG SLEEVED SHIRT ROLLED UP TO HER ELBOWS. SHE IS MID-JUMPER, LEFT ARM EXTENDED AND RIGHT WRIST BENT. USER PAIGEBUECKERS: “TUNNEL VISION ON A MISSION ⏳” | USER TESSKENNEDY25: “I AM LOOKING RESPECTFULLY 👁️” END TRANSCRIPTION.]

Their galavanting didn’t end there. They made their relationship known through TikTok live one night, featuring Bueckers, Kennedy, and some of Buecker’s UConn teammates including Aaliyah Edwards and Nika Muhl. The TikTok live was a source of endless laughter, jokes, and games. Again, nothing was officially confirmed, although many viewers posted various screen recordings the morning after, and all fans can agree on is that Bueckers and Kennedy are not slick.

Many are comparing their relationship to Sue Bird and Megan Rapinoe, and we have to admit, the similarity is there. Bueckers and Kennedy are both standout athletes and leaders on dynasty teams. Fans are eagerly awaiting the hard-launch, if only just to confirm what we all know is true.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

JUNE 20, 2023

“Do you have everything, piccola? Brace, heating pad, charger?”

Making a conscious effort to fix her face, Tess resists a sigh and responds, “Yes, mamma, I have everything.” She knows that her mother is just looking out for her, but she’s been through all of her belongings three times now and she knows for a fact that she has everything. If something was missing, she’s certain Paige would have an extra or she’d be able to buy a new one in Massachusetts. 

She got the call from Amaya only a few days ago. To no one’s surprise at all, the media was eating up her and Paige’s fake relationship. Their brand deals were feeling secure in their investments once more and the tabloids were far more concerned about Tess & Paige than they were about Tess’s month-long crash out. With everything aligning once more, Bose actually wanted to sign a joint deal with her and Paige and get them to advertise a new product – standard NIL endorsement stuff, but the icing on the cake was Amaya’s cheerful, “You’re married now!” that nearly made Tess’s heart fall out of her ass.

Tess doesn’t make a habit of being a gullible person, but she genuinely thought Amaya was going to make her and Paige scrap the whole “soft-launch” idea and just come out at the altar with wedding rings. Amaya was quick to clarify it wasn’t actually like that (Thank God), but the Bose representatives wanted to do something corny, monopolize on their traction as a duo, and Tess and Paige would henceforth be named Mrs. and Mrs. Bose.

It was pretty stupid, but a little funny, and as soon as Tess saw her payout, she couldn’t really complain.

“And Paige is getting you from the airport? No Uber?” her father asks for the second time, mostly to clarify.

Tess can’t stop the flush from spreading across her cheeks like she’d been caught red-handed. Truthfully, her parents weren’t haters by any means. They were oddly invested in her and Paige’s ruse – which made lying to them about it so much more difficult, but the both of them seemed to genuinely like Paige despite never speaking to her. They’d been begging for weeks straight for Tess to bring her home so they could meet her since it’s “getting serious,�� although they were pleased to know she’d probably be around by Christmas. She and Paige had this commercial to film, then Paige would have to return to Storrs for summer practices (Tess wouldn’t be returning until the semester officially started – she wants to work as much as she could with Terri, no hate to Craig), then Paige was set to spend early August in Europe with her teammates. Both of them would be extremely busy in the coming months, especially once the season started, so they weren’t expecting to see each other all too much outside of FaceTime.

“Yes, Paige will pick me up,” Tess confirms, zipping up her backpack one last time. “She flew in this morning.” Tess tactfully leaves out the part where Paige had completely rearranged her flight schedule for her. Paige argued that it “wasn’t safe” to put her safety in the hands of a random Uber driver given her knee and that she hated late flights anyways. Tess knows that Paige truthfully doesn’t give a fuck about flight times, but arguing with her was near impossible.

Her father gives an approving nod, and much to Tess’s well-hidden anxiety induced annoyance, the three of them do one last check of her belongings before they load up in the car to drop her off at the airport. Tess tries her best to tune into the conversation, although part of her is still nervous about flying. She’s been cleared to travel for a week or two now. Despite that, she can’t help but anticipate the worst going wrong. Amaya splurged on first class so she’d have plenty of leg room and she’s flying on a very reputable airline. She has to remind herself that realistically, she’ll be perfectly fine.

It’s a quiet morning at the airport as her father pulls into the drop off lane, putting the car in park. “Text us as soon as you land, okay, piccola?” her mother tells her.

Tess flashes the both of them a comforting smile, leaning forward to give them quick hugs. “Of course.” And with that, she grabs her suitcase and her backpack, says her goodbyes, and waits for her parents to pull off before she walks through the airport in search of her gate. She’s only stopped a few times by fans asking for photos, which she dutifully poses for, then she makes her way to the counter to check in. She only has to wait a few more moments to board the plane. Amaya set her up with a secluded seat in the back. She snags a quick photo of the tarmac and sends it to Paige, whose response comes quickly.

Tell your pilot to take a shortcut or sum I miss you

you use that line on all the girls back home?

Is it working?

maybe a little

Then no All my lines are for Tess Kennedy and Tess Kennedy only

good

🤔 Are you forgetting something?

miss you too pb 👎

I know 😁

so modest gtg we’re about to take off

I’ll be waiting 🫶

Tess simply reacts to Paige’s last message with a heart, unable to wipe the smile off her face. She shuts her phone off and settles in for the hour long flight.

When the plane touches down in Framingham, Massachusetts, Tess is full of restless energy. It’s equal parts relief and excitement; however, after spending the morning traveling, she’s ready to get back to the hotel and get a nap in before she has to be productive. She hauls her bag over her shoulder and exits the plane with the other passengers as she waits for her phone to power back on. When it does, she sees that a text from Paige is already waiting for her.

I got your suitcase I’m like right in front of the gate

Tess sends back a thumbs up, something she’s sure Paige is annoyed by, and slides her phone back into her pocket. She follows the crowd out. Her heart thrums with anticipation, even as she tries to shove down those complicated feelings. Friends are allowed to miss each other, but her longing feels different somehow. She and Paige were practically inseparable for the month they were apart. Knowing that they’re about to reunite in person leaves her giddy with anticipation.

The crowd clears. Paige stands tall and proud in the center of the boarding area, an easy smile on her face and her arms hiding something behind her back. When Paige finally spots her, her smile widens and she begins taking swift steps towards her. Tess matches her strides, falling into her embrace with a soft laugh and overwhelming relief. One of Paige’s arms loop around her waist, squeezing her gently. “Missed you,” Paige murmurs, her cheek pressed to her head, and Tess doesn’t bother fighting the flush or the enamored upward curve of her lips.

“Missed you too, P,” she confesses. Paige’s arm tightens around her waist and she can feel the smile the blonde presses to the crown of her head. She pulls back, uncaring of the way the crowd clamors or the phones pointed at them, fully focused on Paige. Her hair is pulled back into a wavy ponytail, her face bare (yet she’s still undeniably beautiful), and she’s dressed in a UConn hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants. Simple, but Paige is good at pulling just about anything off. With a mischievous grin, Paige displays the bouquet of flowers she’d been hiding behind her back, and Tess can’t quite hide the surprise on her features. “Paige – what?”

Paige carefully pushes them into Tess’s hands. They’re roses and in shockingly good quality, as if they’d been plucked directly from a garden rather than purchased from a grocery store. “Saw ‘em and had to get ‘em for you. Figured you deserved a little better than that LEGO flower after these past two months, yeah?”

Tess is speechless, her mouth opening and closing much like a fish’s. No one has ever gotten her flowers before, high school graduation aside. Paige did this completely on her own whims, and that thought alone makes a fresh blush creep up her neck. She glances at Paige, a soft smile spreading across her face. “These are beautiful, P. Thank you.”

Paige’s grin turns tender, her face clearly pleased as she pulls Tess in by her waist once more, careful to not squash the flowers. “‘Course, ma,” she says like it’s the easiest thing in the world, which, for a girl like Paige, it probably is. That thought alone is sobering and Tess remembers where they are, adrenaline rushing into her mouth as Paige releases her. “Ready to go, Mrs. Bose?”

“So fucking corny,” Tess groans, but Paige’s joke is enough for the tension to melt away, for Tess to forget all about the sudden sadness she’d felt as Paige hugged her. “Lead the way, Mrs. Bose.” Paige cocks a wry smirk at her and does just that, her left hand reaching for the handle of Tess’s suitcase. Her free hand brushes against Tess’s, a silent question in her eyes. One glance at the crowd makes her heart race, but Paige’s eyes are soft, understanding, and all the convincing she needs. She links her fingers together with Paige’s, relishing in the squeeze Paige gives her in reassurance. Tess tries not to think too hard about how well their hands fit together – the blonde’s are just slightly larger, enveloping her own in a way that should not be as comforting as it is, and her thumb mindlessly brushes against her knuckle.

Paige leads them through the busy airport, the crowd parting for them, and Tess hardly pays it any attention as she gets lost in her racing thoughts. They’re just friends. Sure, no one in her life is as close to her in the way Paige is right now, but they just have their own thing going on right now. Pretending to be each other’s girlfriend requires a lot of commitment that neither of them have otherwise experienced. Tess was never one for romance – it wasn’t in the cards for someone like her. Growing up, she was taller than most other girls – and boys – her age. A lot of people weren’t into that. Then she realized she didn’t even like boys, which never bothered her, but she felt as though she was missing out on some crucial part of girlhood because she wasn’t desired or yearned for. She’ll be the first to admit it sounds stupid. There’s many people out there with issues far more serious than whether or not they were somebody’s crush in high school. She’s out of her element in so many ways, and she can’t help but think back to that initial burst of anxiety she felt as soon as the severity of the situation finally hit her. She’s in way over her head, she’s realizing it now, and she fears that it won’t be long until people realize she has no idea what she’s doing.

But Paige? One glance at her, at the easy expression on her face, the slight furrow of her brow as she scans the airport signs for the exit, and Tess can tell she’s not freaking the fuck out like she is. Paige is vastly more experienced in this situation than Tess is and they both know it. Paige said she could do casual. This is essentially what this was, right? All of the romance without the intimacy. Tess should have told her right then and there that she was not built for casual. It always spins out of control, and Tess is probably living proof of that.

This is all physical, she tells herself, unsure of if she even believes it. You don’t actually like her. She’s attractive – that’s all there is to it. And for now, that explanation is good enough for her. She’s going to do these commercials with Paige, hard-launch their fake relationship, and then they’re going to be far too busy to see each other until the holidays when they visit each other’s families to, again, hard-launch their fake relationship and tell the biggest lie to the people closest to them. That time apart will be enough for Tess to get her head back on straight and realize there's absolutely nothing going on between her and Paige that should be of any (reasonable) concern.

She almost believes that. At least until Paige smiles at her as she loads her suitcase into the trunk of her rental, opening the passenger door for her. Tess’s heart swells and she realizes just how unfathomably fucked she is.

JUNE 21, 2023

After a calm night spent watching Grey’s Anatomy – Paige’s request, obviously – Tess and Paige were up bright and early Wednesday morning to drive out to the Bose main office for filming. Paige entrusted her with the aux and promised to not complain about her music choices as long as Tess bought breakfast, which was a deal Tess was all too happy to make as she directed Paige to the nearest Dunkin. She made sure to snag plenty of pictures for the Instagram hard launch they planned to post before they went their separate ways. Her personal favorite was the one of Paige sitting in the driver’s seat, legs wide and pressed against the door and the center console, sunglasses perched over the bridge of her nose as she held both of their coffees. The blonde sported an easy smile with her hair in her game-day braids and her thin, black fleece jacket was unzipped, showcasing the UConn shirt she was wearing under it. Paige made sure to get one of her, too, but it was less presentable and far too candid – Paige had swiped whipped cream across her nose and photographed her mid-gasp. Tess begged her to delete it, but Paige’s infectious laughter caused all of the indignation to drain from her body.

With breakfast and coffee secured, Paige drives the rest of the way to their filming location as Tess hums along to Omar Apollo. The silence in the car is calm, both of them comfortable in simply sitting next to each other as the music plays. Paige shifts, her elbow resting on the center console as she drives with her left hand. Her fingers mindlessly twirl the straw in her cup. The movement catches Tess’s eye and she’s suddenly overcome with the urge to grab her hand.

It’s domestic, in a sense – sitting next to Paige in the car as they drive down the road with the windows down. The weather holds a gentle bite, not overbearingly cold, but chilly enough that it makes Tess feel a little more tethered, that she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

In her last session with Yvette, the psychologist recommended she just let go. As obvious as the advice is, and despite it being easier said than done, Tess is interested in giving it an honest shot. For years, she’s carried so much anxiety with her, worried about whether or not she’s doing something right or worried about how she’s being perceived. Sometimes, it takes a little bit of discomfort to move forward.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Tess props her arm up on the center console. Paige is close enough that she can feel her jacket sleeve brushing against her arm. She can feel Paige’s gaze on her, the gentle curiosity, but she keeps her eyes straight ahead, watching as the trees pass by in green blurs. Then she feels her move, feels her knuckles brush against her hand; and with her heart thrumming in her chest, Tess wordlessly unclenches her fist in invitation. Paige doesn’t hesitate before she’s linking their fingers together, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Tess spots her smile from the corner of her eye, and knowing that Paige is watching her, too, she allows a smile of her own to grace her features. Nothing has ever felt as right as Paige’s hand in hers in a long time. As she continues driving, Tess can’t help herself from feeling at peace.

When the two of them finally make it back to their hotel room after spending the day filming, Tess collapses onto her bed with a dramatic groan, immediately reaching for her pillow and wrapping both arms around it, pressing her chin into the cushion. She hears Paige snort from somewhere in the room, followed by rustling as she shrugs her jacket off her shoulders and throws it haphazardly on her bed. “Tired?” Paige asks teasingly.

Tess hums in confirmation. Tired doesn’t even begin to cover it. She was up early, was on her feet for most of the day, and all of the reshoots and retakes weren’t doing her any favors. She knows she’s crashing out for no reason – this is literally her job – but she’s equal parts tired and hangry and she honestly just wants a hot shower.

“Want me to DoorDash somethin’?” Paige asks, as if reading her mind. She kicks off her shoes and falls into bed next to Tess, already pulling out her phone.

Tess cracks one eye open as the mattress dips under their shared weight, glancing at Paige, who crosses one leg over the other as she gets comfortable. “Chick-fil-A?” she requests. “Nuggets and fries? My card’s in my wallet.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “Hell no. You got breakfast.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “Breakfast and the aux.”

“All you played was sad, break-up R&B,” Paige grumbles. “I really should make you cover dinner after that bullshit. Feels like there’s something you’re tryna tell me.”

“Pretty sure I’m not contractually allowed to break up with you,” Tess retorts. “So don’t worry.”

The blonde hums, unconvinced, before she turns off her phone and throws it in between the two of them. “Dasher’s gonna be here in 15,” she says, gazing down at her. “You good? Your knee okay?”

Figuring her current position probably isn’t the greatest for said knee, Tess rolls onto her back and stretches her leg out with a sigh. Her elbow brushes against Paige’s stomach and Tess shifts again, not realizing how little space she’d left between them after she moved. “‘M good,” she says. “Should probably get an ice pack just in case.”

Paige is rolling off the bed before Tess even registers what’s going on. She watches her pull the lid off of the ice box on the desk, scooping up a handful and depositing it in a plastic bag. She tests the seal, and once she’s satisfied, she wraps the makeshift pack in a towel, plucks a pillow off of her bed, and holds the ice pack in between her teeth as she gently lifts Tess’s leg, sliding the pillow underneath. Tess’s breath hitches at the slightest contact, and despite the chill of the ice pack, Paige’s hands are inexplicably warm on her skin.

“Is this the Dr. Bueckers the ladies told me about?” Tess asks with a coy smile, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest. The way Paige was gazing at her left too much for her to want, eyes soft and attentive, and for Tess, it was easier to hide the longing with humor.

“You play too much,” Paige says, but her words lack any real heat as she rounds the bed once more and crawls back in, reclining against the pile of pillows. She’s closer than she was before she left. Tess can smell her perfume, the shampoo she’d used the night before. Paige is magnetic, that much Tess knew to be true – she’d felt it the very moment Paige stopped her outside of the conference room to inform her that she’d be tagging along for PT. It’s only now that she realizes how strong her pull was as she unconsciously leans into Paige’s space, the blonde’s arm raising to wrap around her, fingers splayed against her shoulder.

“Do I?” she asks, if only to fill the silence. Paige’s thumb begins to trace soft patterns on her skin. It’s difficult for her to focus on anything but that, but she cranes her neck, finding that Paige is already staring at her. Tess flushes under her gaze, though she refuses to break eye contact.

Paige’s lips quirk as she responds, “Yeah. You do.” She seems as though she’s content to leave it at that, but a couple beats pass before she’s speaking again. “You want a lot of things you think you can’t have.” Tess’s brow raises at her words, but she remains quiet. “I see it in film. You’re an insane three-point shooter but you rarely take middies or layups unless it’s absolutely free. And you do this thing – it’s like you’re faking the drive, and I can tell you really want to do it, but you just…don’t. You’re not faking. You’re just scared to get out of your comfort zone and go for it. Scared to get close.”

Tess doesn’t think they’re talking about basketball anymore. Despite the sharpness of her words, Paige’s tone is gentle, and the smile on her face is both confusing and frustrating. Frustrating because Tess knows she’s right; confusing because Paige knows she’s right, but it seems like she’s not completely confident in Tess taking that leap. Honestly, part of Tess is tempted to prove her right. She knows they could drop this topic right now and Paige wouldn’t press her. The other part of her knows they’ve come this far together, that she’s come this far. Doesn’t she owe it to herself, to Paige, to be vulnerable? To take the drive into the paint, risk getting fouled, instead of hovering at the perimeter to take the same shot she’s taken thousands of times already?

She thinks she does. Tess is tired of wanting, of yearning for the things well within her reach if only she had the confidence to go after them. But perhaps there is a thin line between confidence and bravery, between knowing and trying. So she shifts, feeling a little braver, angling her body towards Paige’s, fists the collar of her UConn t-shirt, and pulls her closer and closer until their lips finally meet.

Paige gasps against her, surprised, before her good sense returns and she melts into Tess. The hand on her shoulder skims across her skin to rest on the nape of her neck, her right hand reaching up to hold her face. As Paige guides her jaw to get better access, her kiss deep and consuming, she takes full advantage of Tess’s jilted sigh. Her hands fall from Paige’s collar, finding purchase on her stomach and her waist in search of stabilization. Paige leaves her breathless and woozy, and if she didn’t feel secure in the way she was holding her, then Tess would be afraid of floating away completely.

They break away, chests heaving, flushes down to their collarbones. Tess’s eyes open with a flutter of her eyelashes. Paige is already staring at her, her eyes wide in some sort of awe, pupils dilated. Her lips are swollen, shiny, and Tess can’t help the feeling of smug satisfaction that comes with knowing she did that. Paige Bueckers looks like a mess and it’s all because of her. “Still think I’m scared?” she asks, voice hoarse, her fingers gripping the fabric of Paige’s shirt.

The smile that spreads across Paige’s face is raw, real, visibly affectionate despite her next words. “Yeah.” Tess almost rolls her eyes, but Paige’s hand drops to the base of her throat, her middle finger brushing against her pulse point. She doesn’t apply any sort of pressure, but the weight of her hand makes her head spin anyways. “But s’okay.”

Tess chuckles. “To be scared?”

Paige hums an affirmative, shifting again, and she presses her lips against Tess’s. It’s different this time; firm, lingering, and insistent, almost as though she’s trying to take everything she possibly could. The weight of Paige’s body against hers is exhilarating and it makes her heart race. She can feel Paige’s smirk against her lips. Tess is instantly reminded of the fact that Paige can feel the thrumming of her pulse. She pushes her back with a hand to her chest, smiling at the rumble of laughter that reverberates through her body. “S’okay to be scared,” Paige says seriously, her thumb wiping away the smear of gloss on Tess’s lip. “But you don’t gotta be. Not with me.”

Tess meets her gaze, studying her features, the sheer honesty in her expression. Paige releases her jaw, her hands reaching down to untangle Tess’s fingers from where they’re still clenched in her shirt, fitting their hands together. “Don’t overthink it,” Paige whispers, understanding Tess’s mannerisms by heart now.

But the peace is always short-lived. Tess frowns, her voice almost a murmur when she asks, “What are we doing?” Paige’s eyes widen slightly. Tess wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been so fine-tuned to Paige’s every move for the past month. “The rules, Paige, we agreed–”

“We haven’t broken any of the rules,” Paige states firmly. She squeezes Tess’s hands, her throat bobbing as she swallows. “We communicate. We don’t see other people. We don’t tell other people. And we…” Paige struggles to find the words. “We don’t have to label this. It’s just us.” Tess’s face softens, the furrow in her brow relaxing. “‘M just…glad it was here. You and me, no cameras. And... we can just say we practiced for the public, right?” Paige’s thumb brushes against her hand as she stares at her imploringly, almost as though she’s pleading for Tess to agree, to stop thinking and just do it.

Practice. That word fills her with simultaneous relief and dread, but she remembers Paige’s words. Don’t overthink it. Tess understands that they’re walking a very thin line right now. Why should she let her brain ruin it? They don’t have to complicate what they have right now. And for now, that’s good enough for her. “Practicing is fine,” she confirms, feeling a little more confident.

When Paige’s eyes light up, her lips quirking into a smile, Tess believes that she’s made the right decision. “Yeah?”

Tess nods, flashing a smile that’s unexpectedly genuine. “Yeah.” She pulls Paige in closer by her hands, their lips brushing again, but before she can melt into her completely, Paige’s phone rings and the two of them snap apart.

“Fuck,” Paige groans, her brows drawn tight in annoyance. She hardly looks twice at her phone as she picks it up and answers it. “Hello?” Tess can barely make out what the person on the other end is saying, but the tension leaves Paige’s body. “Okay, I’ll be down. Thank you.” Tess looks at her curiously as she hangs up the phone. “Cockblocked by the dasher,” she says solemnly, unable to hide her pout. “Gimme five minutes, I have to go meet him.”

Tess can’t wipe the smile off her face as Paige rolls off the bed again, slipping on her shoes and rummaging around in her bag for her wallet. Before she leaves, Tess catches her by her wrist, pulling her down to her level and planting a chaste kiss to her lips – a far cry from the one they’d been cheated out of. “Hurry back,” she says. “I’m hangry.”

“Two minutes,” Paige breathes out, grinning stupidly, pushing Tess’s hair out of her face. Then she’s gone, and Tess is left alone in the silence of their room. If any of this had happened a week prior, Tess would probably be spiraling, but she’s committed to turning over a new leaf. She’s not going to overthink it, she’s not going to crash out, and most of all, she’s going to accept this new development in her and Paige’s friendship for what it is without trying to second guess whatever it could mean. They can just be friends who kiss now. That’s a thing. They don’t have to label anything. They can just be them, and as far as Tess is concerned, she’s okay with that.

Paige makes it back in record time, Chick-fil-A bag and drink carrier in hand and slightly out of breath. At Tess’s brow raise, Paige shrugs cheekily, handing over a milkshake. “You said you were hangry,” she teases, sliding back into bed next to her. “I’m too young to die.”

Tess rolls her eyes as Paige begins dividing out their food, passing the sauce and napkins. “You’re such an asshole,” she says good-naturedly.

“You kissed me,” Paige reminds her, as if Tess could ever forget about that. “What does that say about you?”

“I’m a very charitable person,” Tess supplies modestly. Paige snorts like she doesn’t believe that, but Tess smiles regardless.

They continue chatting throughout dinner. Paige pretends like she doesn’t notice Tess stealing her fries, although Paige ends up using most of Tess’s sauce, so they call it even at the end. Paige throws their trash away while Tess scrolls on her phone, only glancing up when Paige returns, hooking her chin over her shoulder and throwing a casual arm over Tess’s waist. “Time to break the internet?”

“You better not post anything embarrassing,” Tess grumbles, enjoying the weight of Paige’s body on hers.

Paige hides her laugh in the fabric of her shirt. “I couldn’t if I tried.” She pulls out her phone, opening Instagram and begins drafting a new post. Tess’s eyes catch on some of Paige’s photos as she scrolls through them. There’s random screenshots of Bible quotes, a concerning amount of selfies, a lot of basketball related things, and pictures of Tess have somehow become a new trend in her gallery. From the photo of Tess with cream on her nose, FaceTime candids, to photos from their shoot today that Tess wasn’t even aware Paige had taken. Tess softens. Most of the pictures were nice. “Could get a new one,” Paige suggests, opening her camera and pointing it at the mirror on the opposite wall, displaying the two of them pressed close together. Tess rolls her eyes, chuckling, but Paige takes the photo before she can react.

“Paige Madison,” Tess sighs. She can feel Paige smile against her.

“C’mon,” she goads. “We look good.” Tess can’t really argue with that one, so she leans her head against Paige’s and begins drafting her own Instagram post. They work in silence as they select the best photos for the hard launch. It’s only been a month and a half, but Tess feels both fondness and nostalgia as she scrolls through their photos and their memories. She has a couple of photos from PT with Paige, FaceTime screenshots, the photo of Paige holding their coffees, and photos of Paige trying to style the Mrs. Bose earbuds they were promoting. She knows there was a reason why Paige came into her life, but she can’t help feeling like she showed up at the right time; it could have been anyone else – college athletics has an endless amount of controversial athletes who are in need of image repair – yet being paired with Paige feels like a stroke of fate.

Tess selects only a few photos, not wanting to go overboard. She includes their first picture at PT – Paige holding the ice pack over her knee, the FaceTime screenshot of Paige showcasing the LEGO rose, Paige and their coffees, and a mirror selfie they’d taken after stylists did their hair and makeup for the shoot. She captions it “here’s to tess kennedy’s worst kept secret. thank you for coming into my life when you did,” and while this hard launch is not real, the sentiment is.

Paige finishes at around the same time she does, a soft smile on her face as they swap phones to look at each other’s work. True to her word, Paige kept the embarrassment to a minimum, although the first photo she selected was the one with whipped cream on her nose. Tess shouldn’t have expected anything less, but it’s quickly growing on her. The rest of the photos consist of the mirror selfie Paige just took, a screenshot of Tess modeling the gold dress for her, a bible quote – 1 Corinthians 16:14 – and, shockingly enough, an older photo of them from their freshman year, shaking hands after the first game they’d played against one another. They’re both cheesing. Tess remembers that loss vividly. The media called it The Battle of the Freshmen, mostly because it was the long awaited match-up between Tess and Paige, who’d been hailed as freshmen phenoms, two top recruits. In that game, they both accounted for the majority of their team’s points. Paige was responsible for 31 of UConn’s 63 while Tess led South Carolina with 30 of their 59.

Tess couldn’t even be upset at the loss. She and Paige played their hearts out, and honestly, playing against Paige was the highlight of the game. From their expressions alone, you would have thought they both walked home with trophies that night. Tess could argue that she did. Playing with Paige makes you a better player, sure, but playing against her? Tess learned so much from her game, although she would never admit that to Paige; her ego is too overinflated and Tess will not contribute to growing it.

“Where’d you find the last one?” Tess asks curiously, handing Paige’s phone back.

Paige does the same, her face lighting up with a soft smile. “Got tagged in it a couple times,” she says. “Felt right.” Tess can’t argue against that, smiling too. “At the same time?” Tess hums in confirmation, her thumb hovering over the post button, and simultaneously, they both share the hard launch to their pages. There is a very brief period of stillness before the notifications and comments begin pouring in. Tess swipes over to Paige’s post and only then does she read the caption, “And her pink skies will keep me warm.”

“Cheesy ass Frank lyric!” Tess exclaims with a laugh.

Paige looks inexplicably smug, pleased with herself. “Full circle,” she says.

“Full circle,” Tess agrees, her smile turning tender.

It’s at that moment that everything finally clicks. The lyrics filter through her brain. And a new day will bring about the dawn. And her pink skies will keep me warm. She can hear it perfectly, Frank’s voice singing to her, “Abandon mission, you must be kiddin’, this shit feelin’ different, shit feelin’ different to me.” All of the thoughts she’d been ignoring, the uncomfortable conversation with herself she’d been avoiding. She tried to push it down, but the realization came into focus with stunning clarity. Tess liked Paige. Tess likes her.

That was the entire reason why everything has felt so different. It wasn’t because she and Paige were spending so much time together, why Paige has become nearly synonymous with Tess’s recovery. It wasn’t because their friendship was just different. It was because it wasn’t friendship at all. It was always something more, even from the start.

Tess feels as though the floor beneath her could splinter, a giant crack down the middle that would send her tumbling to the ground below. She likes Paige. She has feelings for Paige. Calling it by any other name wouldn’t do her any good. She broke their rules and it’s taken her this long to realize.

“You good?” Paige asks her, her brows drawn into a furrow, concern etched onto her face as her hand reaches for Tess’s. She hadn’t realized she was shaking.

Tess clears her throat, nodding. “Yeah,” she lies, hoping that it sounds believable. Bree’s words come back to her. You’re lying to Paige, which is why you’re fumbling the bag. She was right all along. Tess could laugh at the absurdity of it all if Paige wasn’t sitting next to her. “Just need a shower, I think.”

She decides right then and there that Paige can’t know. She can’t know that she’s close to ruining it all, close to undoing all of the work they’d done to restore their reputations. That she’d broken their rule after all. That she let this get out of hand, and if Paige knew, their friendship would be destroyed for sure, and Tess isn’t sure if she could handle not having Paige around.

Paige hums, seemingly convinced, but all Tess can think about is what she’s done.

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 34

Previous chapter | Epilogue

Masterlist

“I am so happy you are back, Liv” Olga says while hugging me for the millionth time. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

“Have you?” I chuckle. “Because Madders has told me that you’ve been a bit busy with a certain blonde from The Netherlands.”

“Who, me?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I mean…” she says as she lets go of me, her cheeks bright red. “Micky is really nice. And hot. And blonde. And tall. And it is really hard to find someone who has all that and that treats you well, so when you do…”

“You don’t let them go.”

“Yeah…” she says with a shy smile. “Is that what you’ve done with Declan? Though I'm not planning on getting pregnant any time soon to catch Micky like a Pokémon.” 

“Olga!” I laugh. 

“I'm kidding, Liv. I know you didn't catch Declan or anything like that. You aren't  that type of woman.”

“Olga!” I repeat.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. But you aren't letting him go, are you?”

“Nope” I smile. “I am not.”

“I love seeing you this happy, Liv. I truly do. I know I haven't been the biggest Declan fan out there and rightly so, but… I'm really happy for you. For both of you.”

“Thank you” I say, trying to not get emotional, which is what I’ve done the most since I arrived for my first day back at work.

“Oh, they are coming. Ready?”

“Ready” I say, taking a deep breath.

“There she is! My favourite barista!” Madders smiles, walking towards us.

“Hello, James.”

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed your coffees, Liv. No one makes them like you.”

“So that’s why you’ve been playing like shit while I’ve been away, uh? My coffees are what make you good” I tease him.

“Ha ha ha…” he replies, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, can I please get my usual?”

“You… Hello, there.” 

“Hello” Declan smiles. Because my first day back to work happens to be during international break, and once again, the national team is staying at Tottenham's training centre. And while Declan and I smile at each other like two idiots, I can't help but remember the day we met.

We were standing in the same spot we are now, Madders getting impatient next to us while I got lost in the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, my stomach doing funny things that I hadn't felt before and that after everything that has happened between us and that we've gone through since that day, still are there when he looks at me. 

“What can I get you?”

“Same as I always, please” he says, still smiling.

“Umm, excuse me, Deccers. I ordered first.”

“Yes, Madders. You did. But I'm her boyfriend and the father of her son. I go first.”

“And I'm her older brother and the godfather of her son” he replies.

“I still win” Declan shrugs. “Liv, will you be staying during today's meeting?”

“That's the plan” I say, finishing his order.

“Good. I've got some news to share.”

“Some… news?” I ask.

“You aren't going to propose here at the cafeteria, are you?” Madders laughs. “You can do better than that, Rice.”

“I am not, no” Declan replies, rolling his eyes. “It is something else, you'll see. Thank you for the coffee, Liv. I love you” he says, moving over the counter to kiss my cheek.

“Love you too” I giggle.

“Any idea about what those news could be? Liv… Liv… Olivia!”

“Fucking hell, Madders! Was that really necessary?” I say after he claps in front of my nose.

“It was. You were completely gone while looking at Declan.”

“I wasn't” I snort.

“You were” Olga says next to me.

“I… Ok, fine. What if I was, uh? I would like to see you two if Kennedy and Micky were here looking all perfect and cuddly with their soft bed hair that is asking you to run your hands through it and a smile that makes your knees feel like jelly and… bloody hell” I gasp.

“What happened now?”

“Nothing.”

“Liv, are you ok?” Olga asks me.

“Yes, I… I… I'm gonna go get myself a glass of water, I'll be back in a minute.”

“And my coffee?” Madders complains.

“Ask Olga to make it for you” I say, looking back at Declan one last time before walking into the kitchen and take a deep breath. 

He had done it again. Declan had done the same things that had made me fall head over heels for him the day we first met. He had sat down on the same sofa, sipping his coffee, and making a face that back then had me wondering if it was the same face he made when he was thoroughly enjoying something (spoiler alert: it is). Then he had looked at me, mouthing best coffee ever with that smile that he knew made me weak, and then… then he had winked. Just like he had done that first day as I walked away and looked back at him one last time… He had winked at me, and I had lost it. I had completely lost it.

“You are so lame, Olivia” I chuckle while getting myself that very needed glass of water. 

Almost three years have passed, and Declan still manages to make me feel the same things. To make me feel like a stupid teenager in love for the first time. But if I'm being honest… I hope he never stops making me feel like that. Stupidly in love with him. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, is everyone here? Good” Southgate says as the last player sits down in front of him. “So, as you all know, our next game is a very important one. We need to beat France if we want to be on top of our classification group for the Euros. And as you also already know, that day we won't be able to have Harry with us as our leader due to injury, which means we need a new one.”

“A new leader?” Olga whispers with a confused look.

“A new captain” I whisper back.

“Oh…”

“After discussing it with him, my staff, and the other captains, we've decided it is time to give someone new a chance to lead England on the pitch” Southgate continues. “The person we've chosen is someone who has been familiar with this role since a very young age, someone who has everything a captain is required to have. And that someone is…” he says, pausing to give it some kind of dramatic effect and looking around all his players. “Declan.”

“Oh my God” I gasp definitely way too loud, some players looking my way while others are already cheering for Declan and congratulating him.

“Liv, are you ok? You are shaking” Olga says.

“Yes, yes, don't worry” I reply. “I just that this… he…”

“This is big, isn't it? For him and his career.”

“You can't even imagine” I say, my eyes fixed on Declan while he shakes hands and hugs everyone in that unique way he does where he makes you feel like the most important person in the world. Madders words, not mine. Though he isn't wrong.

“Olivia, would you like to join us?” Southgate says, now every single person in the cafeteria looking my way.

“I… I mean… I…” 

“We'll meet later. In private” Declan says, stopping my mumbling.

“In private, uh?” someone that I could swear sounded like Madders says behind him, some of his teammates laughing and making him roll his eyes.

“Ok boys, that's enough. Time to go get ready for training” Southgate says.

“In private, uh?” Olga repeats next to me once all the boys have left, a stupid smirk on her face.

“You too?”

“Sorry, Liv” she shrugs. “But it sounded like you are going to celebrate the good news by practicing how to give Ollie a little brother or sister.”

“We… whatever. I'm gonna go get some more napkins, we've run out of them.”

“Sure, Liv. Sure” Olga chuckles as I walk away.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“What the…” I say when someone pushes me back into the storage room as I try to leave it. “Declan?”

“Hello” he smiles, picking the box of napkins that had fallen from my hands and leaving it on a shelf.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready for training?”

“I am ready” he says, looking down at his clothes. “And I am wearing your favourite piece from our training kit.”

“You are, yes” I say, my eyes fixed on his legs. Or his hips area if we are being accurate. God bless the person at Nike who designed those leggings that leave no room for imagination. 

“Aren't you going to say anything?”

“About your leggings? You know what I think of them.”

“I was talking about the news, Olivia” he smirks.

“Oh… that.”

“Yes, that” Declan says, taking a step forward and cornering me a bit more against the wall. “Aren't you proud of your boyfriend?”

“Very proud.”

“Then why don't you show him how proud you are?” he asks.

“Declan, I'm not going to do what you are thinking at my workplace and on my first day back.”

“Why not?” he says, moving even closer and basically trapping me between his body and the wall. He isn't touching me, he only did it when he pushed me back inside the storage room. But I can feel the heat coming from his body and mine, everything he's made me feel since day started coming back and… dear lord.

“What if someone walks in? I told Olga I was coming here, and she already implied that you saying that we were going to meet in private meant that we… we…”

“Well, she wasn't wrong” he shrugs. “But if you don't want to do it, we won't” he says, taking a few steps back.

“Thank you.”

“I guess I should probably get going. I'm one of the captains now, I must lead by example” he says, running a hand through his hair. And that simple gesture that he does all the time and that by now he definitely knows turns me on… that's what undones me. “Liv?” he gasps when I push him against the opposite wall. “What are you doing?”

“You are one of the captains now, aren't you?” I say, teasingly moving my hand over his chest.

“That's what I just said, yes.”

“And you also said that you must lead by example” I say, my hand now moving down on him.

“Yes” he gulps, his body tensing under my touch.

“Then show me” I say, looking down at where my fingers are playing with the hem of his leggings. “I can already see how much you want to do it, but I would much rather like to… feel it.”

“Liv…” Declan whispers.

“Do it. Show me how you lead… Captain Rice” I smirk. 

The moment those last two words leave my mouth, it's like something changes in him. He has never looked at me the way he is now, as if he wants to… to… How do people say it online? Oh, yes. To ruin me.

“You asked for it, Miss Chapman” he says, lifting me in the air and pushing me against the wall in a swift move, my legs and arms wrapping around him. 

“How long until you have to be outside?” I whisper against his lips.

“Enough to show you how good I am at leading. Are you ready?” he says, moving his hips against mine and making me gasp.

“Yes, captain. My captain” I manage to reply before he kisses me and shows me that, indeed, he knows how to lead. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Here he comes! England's captain, Declan Rice!” Jordan says when he joins us on the pitch after the game, Connor cheering for him. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Declan chuckles before hugging them. 

“We are so proud of you” his mum says, also hugging him.

“That was a really good game, Rice” my dad says, shaking his hand and patting him on the back. Hard. Because he and my mum also came to today's game and watched it with Declan's family. 

And it still feels so weird to see them all together… Especially my dad. Every time I see him joking with Declan's brothers or playing with his nephews, I have to pinch myself to remind me that this is real. That this is my life now, that they all are my family.

“Hello” Declan smiles when he finally joins me and Ollie after greeting everyone. 

“Hello, captain Rice” I smile back.

“Liv…” he says, kissing Ollie's head. “What did we agree on the other day?”

“Uh?”

“We…” he says, kissing my cheek and then moving to my ear. “Agreed on you only being allowed to call me that when we are alone and I can fuck you against a wall while you scream my name or those two words.”

“Oh” I whisper, my face burning.

“And they've allowed me to keep the armband, by the way” he smirks. 

“Oh” I repeat. Have we talked about things we could do with that armband? Yes, we have. All this captaincy thing has definitely made our sexual life a bit more… interesting. Spicier, some would say. “That's… ummm… I… Ollie!” I say when he tries to jump from my arms. 

“Someone is eager to go into the pitch” Declan chuckles.

“He saw the ball and wants to go play with the boys” I say, struggling to make him stay still. “But Ollie, you can't walk yet. You can't go play football with your cousins.”

“He actually took a couple of steps the other day” my dad says, joining us.

“What? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because it was just that, Liv. A couple of steps” he shrugs. “He took one, went for another one, and sat down.”

“Let’s see if he has improved” Declan says, taking him from my arms and putting him down in the grass while he screams of happiness. “Liv, move over there” he tells me. “If he sees the boys behind you, he'll probably walk in that direction.”

“Ok” I say, doing as Declan has told me.

“Ollie, look at mummy. Go to mummy” he says, bending down next to him and holding him by the waist. “You can do it, c'mon.”

At first he doesn't move, he is just trying to find his balance. 

“That's it, c'mon!” I tell him when he takes a step forward, extending my arms towards him. “Come here, Ollie!”

“That's my boy!” Declan smiles when he takes another wobbly step. 

“C’mon, Ollie” I keep encouraging him. “You can do it!”

And then…

“Oh my God! Declan!” I scream when Ollie starts walking on his own and makes it to my arms. “He did it! Did you see it?”

“Of course I did!” he laughs, moving to where we are. “That's my boy!”

“Our boy” I correct him.

“Sorry” he smiles before taking him in his arms and starting to throwing him up in the air, Ollie laughing like crazy.

“Please be careful, Declan.”

“I've done this a million times, Liv. Relax.”

“Yeah, but I'm pretty sure he still is digesting his dinner.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly” I chuckle.

“Please tell me you recorded that” I hear my mum say behind us.

“All of it” Connor says. “That was so cute, guys.”

“What?” I say, turning to look at them.

“Ollie's first steps, your faces watching him and then celebrating… Too cute.”

“And speaking of celebrating, we should get going, we can't be late for dinner” Declan mum's says.

“Not before we take some photos all of us together. That's why we came here, didn't we? To remember the day our boy captained England for the first time” his dad smiles. 

“A day that now will also be the day Ollie took his first steps” Declan smiles back. 

“And on a football pitch of all places. I think that's a sign, and we have another football player in the making” my dad laughs.

“Great” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“As if you didn't love us” Declan says, wrapping his free arm around my waist.

“I love you. Just one football player. The rest… well” I shrug.

“Let's hope Madders doesn't find out about what you just said” he laughs.

“Yeah” I smile. “I love you, Declan.”

“And I love you, Liv” he says before kissing me.

“Urgh, you are disgustingly cute!” Jordan says. “Also you're welcome for all the photos I just took of you three together. My Christmas present this year better be good, because these are memories you will cherish forever.”

“Let’s see if that's true” Declan says, giving me one last kiss before walking towards where his brother is standing to check the photos he has taken while I just stand in the middle of the pitch looking at them. At him with Ollie in his arms, at my mother chatting with his parents, at his other brother and my dad playing with his nephews. At my family.

“Liv, are you ok?” he calls.

“Yes, yes. Better than ever” I smile, wiping away a tear. 

Better than ever. 

[crsssie]

from one admirer to another : scrambled

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs,

Thank you for that Ada print. It's going into my shrine (you were weird first, alright? Don't go calling me weird now.) and the fact that it's signed? crying screaming throwing up. Also, how dare you call yourself her day one? I was there when she first debuted you can NOT be more day one than me (joke).

I like my eggs in the form of shakshuka. If you haven't tried it before, you really should. It's delicious. It's basically eggs in tomato-based sauce with a ton of other spices and god it's so good I could just die. My favorite season... probably Thanksgiving. I know turkey gets pretty boring at times, but the cranberry sauce that my friends make is so good it's criminal. And, yes, I am unfortunately no different from you, but that's our secret, alright? I think I do an okay job of pretending to be normal at work.

Life updates... I had a shoot with a random model two weeks ago and I'm unable to get the way their hand felt on my bicep out of my head. I felt like a teenager all over again when they did. I'm not a teen anymore, and it's been a hot minute since I have been. Is this the curse of working with attractive people as a model? It was my first time seeing them, and the director didn't even refer to them by name, so my assumption is they don't do that many shoots. Maybe I'll be lucky and never see them again? Big day for losers in love (me). I'm kidding. I'm moving too fast. This'll be over in a couple of days. It's not like they're as hot as Ada— but they're pretty damn close. Got any advice for a loser who's just fallen in love at first sight?

Other than that run-in with the model, I got a couple of days off last week which I was supposed to enjoy, only to get absolutely obliterated by okaokra's newest chapter on glhf <3. Why am I an Ada stan who likes angst. Why am I cursed to love the way okra writes? I am not immune to the Ada brainrot or whatever the youth are saying these days. Every time I think of Ada I feel a little more like those twitter artist reaction memes of them biting wood.

The good thing about being only semi-well-known in the industry though is the fact that I can still sneak around at local events as a fan. It's nice that masks are so accessible nowadays. I'll be stopping by at the Ada-themed cupsleeve event in Raccoon in a couple of days, so I'll probably mail you a little something from that. So, if my letter finds you late, my apologies.

Oh, right, since we're on that topic. Merry Christmas, and happy new year.

See you around? Christmas

The cupsleeve event is relatively easy to sneak into for Leon. He puts on old glasses from college and a jacket that makes him look a lot younger than he really is, and he orders an Ada drink, grinning at the table on the side when he spots a familiar face.

"You're an Ada fan?"

You blink up at him, visibly surprised, and he takes a step back.

"Sorry, I thought you looked familiar—"

"No! I'm the same person. Yeah, I'm a big Ada fan. I'm running the event this time, actually. I model for spare money to host events like this." You scratch your cheek. "Wanna enter the lottery?"

"And what would I get?"

"A limited edition, signed, Ada photocard."

"What is this, Kpop? —take my ten." He hands you a bill nearly immediately, and the two girls at the table with you jump in their skin.

"Wow, you're down horrendous, huh?" You hand the ten to the girls, patting his shoulder. "How should I get the stuff to you? You have to leave a social or something."

"Mm..." He clicks in his twitter handle, and you blink slowly.

"Can I bid for it?"

"That was not the plan, but I mean—"

"You'd have to out-bid them." One of the girls get up to put their hands on your shoulders, and you scratch your cheek.

"How much did you pay for it?"

"The base price is two hundred dollars." You grin.

"Mm... and if I give you three hundred?"

"It's signed, so no."

"Shame." Leon clicks his tongue. "I would've paid good money for that photocard."

Leon turns his head at the sound of the door opening, eyes widening as Ada herself steps through the doors to her cupsleeve event. The people in the coffee shop yell as she does, too many people crowding around her to beg for a signed autograph on their cupsleeve.

"Guys, give her a little space." You call from the table.

The people ignore you, and you scoff.

"Do you need—" Leon's cut off by your actions instead.

You grab the megaphone on the table and nod at the workers, most of them covering their ears as you yell.

"CAN YOU GUYS GIVE HER SOME SPACE, PLEASE?"

The megaphone renders everyone quiet, and Ada laughs.

"I'll sign one by one at the table. Please let me sit first. I just finished a shoot." She waves thank you to everyone as she takes your seat, and you ask her if she needs anything to drink. Leon finds that it's almost as if you planned it, and as Ada meets eyes with him at the table, his heart flips.

She's literally so hot. He's going to pass out.

"Well, since you're here. Do you want a signed cupsleeve too?"

"Yes, please." Leon fumbles as he hands her his cup, looking for a pen, and Ada hums.

"It's good. I brought a sharpie."

"Can you sign my arm— wait, that would violate my contract." Leon purses his lips.

"Do you model?" She asks almost naturally, signature smooth on his plastic cup as she hands it back to him.

"I started just a little ago."

"Any major goals?"

Leon steps to the side to let the other fans get something signed. "I'd like to have a shoot with you one day."

"I look forward to seeing you at a shoot one day, then." She hums. "Who knows? Maybe we'll meet at a runway too. What's your name?"

"Leon. Leon Scott Kennedy."

Leon's heart flips into this throat, and his cheeks turn red.

God, he's going to pass out.

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

The Terrifying Ordeal of Falling in Love with Leon Kennedy

CHAPTER 3

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader (female reader)

Series Warnings: Minor injuries, Leon teases reader a lot, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Drinking, Drinking followed by driving, DO NOT DO THAT THIS IS FICTION, Anxiety, Leon S. Kennedy has PTSD, Leon has an anxiety attack, Anxiety Attacks, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nightmares, Leon S. Kennedy has Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Probably incorrect medical talk, Strangulation in one tiny little scene, Reader's brother was a cop who was KIA, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Grief/Mourning, Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Arguing, Love Confessions, Looking for Alaska is mentioned, Inconvenient Love Confessions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Leon loves eating Pussy change my mind, Shower Makeout, romantic smut, Desperate Leon S. Kennedy, They are both desperate for each other tbh, They say I love you as they come, Scar Kissing, Enthusiastic Consent, Always pee after sex, UTI PREVENTION, POV First Person, No use of Y/N

Words: 1.2K

Masterlist

April 2004

I could give a thousand reasons why

But you're going, and you know that

All you have to do is stay a minute

Just take your time

The clock is ticking, so stay

-Stay, Zedd

The bustling cafe feels inviting from the outside, but unfortunately, that atmosphere dissipates once you enter. If you aren’t a fan of crowds, that is. I glance at the clock on the wall, opting to order a second drink before leaving, given it’s pretty obvious that the friend that invited me out here isn’t coming. The barista gives me a small smile that spreads across her pink cheeks, her button nose scrunching while dimples appear.

“Another one?” She assumes, offering to take my empty cup. I nod silently, handing it to her before she rings up the same drink. Reaching for the cash in my pocket, I am beaten as a voice speaks up behind me, moving forward and placing a hand on the small of my back, my muscles tensing at the contact.

“I’ve got hers.” Oh, I know that voice. I release a breath before turning to him. His hair is much smoother than the first time I saw him and a bit damp, obvious that he’d recently showered, which is also evident by the woodsy scent that wafts off of him in waves. I’ve never been this close to him, not with his face this close anyways, and it’s hard not to notice the small details. A small mole on the bottom of his chin, dark circles under his crystal blue eyes, and a small cut on his jaw, presumably from shaving.

“Agent Kenned-” He finally looks at me, eyebrows raised before he cuts me off.

“Ah. Leon,” he corrects, corner of his lip coming up into a small smirk.

“Sorry. Leon. Why are you buying my coffee?” The question feels redundant, his card having already swiped through the machine after he orders a simple black coffee, but I find myself asking anyways.

“I owe you.” He says it as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, and he chuckles at my furrowed brows. Glad he thinks my confusion is funny. “For patching me up?”

“You know, Leon, that is kinda my job. I was paid to do that,” I explain before the barista hands me a warm cardboard coffee cup, followed quickly by her handing Leon his. It’s almost impossible to miss the phone number scribbled in black sharpie on the brown cardboard sleeve, and I release my own small giggle at the barista’s balls. I’d never be brave enough to do that.

“Something funny, Nurse Nosy?” I scoff at the nickname, wishing he could have settled on literally anything else as we step away from the line, standing off to the side.

“Do you always get phone numbers without asking?” I tease. She was really pretty.

“Sorry?” Now it’s his turn to look confused, eyebrows furrowed. I gesture to the coffee cup resting in his hands, and he looks at it before glancing back at the barista, who gives him a smile and wink. When he turns back to the point where he’s out of her line of sight, he rolls his eyes. “So, any big Saturday plans for the off-duty nurse?” He inquired leisurely, trying to make casual conversation as we slowly move toward the door.

“Well, I was supposed to meet a friend for coffee, but she bailed,” I uttered, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

“Why not call up some of your other friends?” His unoccupied hand now rests in the pocket of his dark wash jeans, and for a moment, I find my mind racing at noticing his casual attire. A simple tee shirt, dark wash jeans, and are those Converse? I snort in response, wrapping both hands around the cup, my eyes looking around the coffee shop. Anywhere but at him.

“I think you overestimate my social skills.”

“You don’t-” He has the decency to at least seem surprised.

“It’s okay. I have a hot date with my GameCube,” I joked, an overexaggerated wink tossed in his direction. “Thanks again for the coffee.” Turning to leave, I give him a small wave, which he returns, although his eyes look like he’s locked in an argument with himself. As my fingers make contact with the cool metal of the door handle, he speaks again, loud enough that I can hear him over the whir of the machines and the light chattering of people.

“Nurse Nosy!” I turn, irritation growing on my face as he quickly makes his way over to me.

“Can you pick a different nickname, please?” I ask, and he ignores the question in favor of his own request.

“A couple of friends and I are grabbing drinks tonight. Come with.” It takes me by surprise, him inviting me out with his friends.

“Look, if this is a pity thing, it’s fine. I’m content in my loneliness.”

“It’s not. I’m just trying t-”

“To help?” His sentence is finished by me, and for a brief second, I see a flash of embarrassment on his cheeks due to the nature of my line of questioning the first time we met.

“I’m just trying to invite you out for a drink. That’s all.” It’s clear he’s not used to the pushback when it comes to these things, my skepticism and self-doubt making this harder than it needs to be.

“Why?” He rolls his eyes again, probably regretting asking in the first place by now.

“Because you seem like a decent person, and I don’t hate your company. Is that so hard to believe?” Yes. It is. Because you are you and I’m… well… me.

“Fine. One drink. Can I have the address?” I concede, figuring why the hell not. Leon allows a small smile onto his face as he nods, pulling out a pen.

“Sure. It’s only like 30 minutes away.” My face drops, mentally calculating cab fare cause there’s no way in hell I can walk that far, nor would I want to. “Something the matter?”

“No. I’m just thinking about cab fare, that’s all.” It’s not embarrassing to admit, a lot of people in DC don’t have cars, and cabs are on almost every street near the city center.

“Wait, you don’t have a car?” He pauses.

“Nope. It’s on my to-do list, and I’ve got a good chunk saved up. Should hopefully have one in the next couple months,” I explain. He returns the pen to his pocket as quickly as he removed it.

“I’ll pick you up then.”

“What?” That surprises me, his offer.

“Yeah. I invited you out. Feels a little shitty for me to force you to pay for a cab.” I get his logic, but it still feels strange.

“It’s okay, I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”

“It’s no problem. If you give me your address, I can pick you up at like 6:30ish.” There’s no arguing with this guy, is there? I nod hesitantly, telling him my address, which he writes on his arm in small rough letters while I hold his coffee.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” I question one last time, gesturing to his recently scribbled-on arm.

"I invited you, didn’t I?” He smirks, taking his drink back, fingers brushing against mine and sending a shiver down my spine. “See you at 6:30.” Then he winks. He fucking winks. My heart jumps in my chest, too stunned to speak as he turns on his heel and heads for the door. “Hey Nurse Nosy?” He grabs my attention once more. “Wear pants.” Then he’s out the door. Pants?

Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088

[trick-jester]

Friendly Killer [02]

[Leon S Kennedy/Killer!Reader]

❝ A lover’s charade. ❞

warnings : blood (slight gore description), swearing, sexual intimacy implications, reader is given she/her pronouns but gender is never specified

3100+ words

A/N: I am really, really sorry in advance. I feel like this chapter isn’t as good of quality as the first chapter made. I’ve re-written this around 8 separate times trying to summarize my entire idea but compressing 10k worth of words into 3k is stupid difficult. I’ve been sitting on this for over half a year and want to just get it over with so I broke it up. Hope you still enjoy reading though! Ɛ>

The chanting caws of crows echo eternally into night sky, fading into obscurity upon taking a directionless flight. 

[F/n] sighs, leaning onto the windowsill of her worn cabin. Deep within her own thoughts as her eyes mindlessly skim through the dainty atmosphere of her own realm. She runs her fingers through her hair, untangling small knots caught along the way.

It had been minutes since the end of their previous match. Hours since Leon confessed his feelings for her without needing to say a word. The permanent memory made her flush. From the way his lips felt against hers to the way their bodies melded together almost too perfectly, it was as if they were created specifically for one another.

Images of his nude figure were pinned at the very center of her core memories: burned securely into its place. [F/n] felt her mouth water at the mental sight of his abs, her cheeks sizzling feverishly as she could do nothing to prevent the replay of their intimacy.

Her scowl cracks, unable to hide the adoration felt as a smile emerges among the visible blush on her expression. Though as quick as it came— it went.Coming away from her position, [F/n] groans, bringing a hand to soothe her a temple. There was a major issue present she couldn't ignore. Their prolonged session couldn't have gone unnoticed by his teammates.

Would they believe Leon if he said she slugged him? Or if he was simply being overly stealthy? Could anything really justify the absurd amount of time taken to complete a match?

The mere idea of anyone else discovering their relationship gave her a migraine.

How would her fellow killers respond? How would the survivors respond?

If the survivors shunned Leon it would snowball into a massive issue in the long run, making matches far more strenuous than needed. It would only require for him to be downed once —once to be abandoned on hook— for his run to be over.

Then, knowing well none of the killers would show an ounce mercy without some sort of return she simply couldn't provide, the outcome of this would eventually drive [F/n] to a breaking point. The entity was not at all a fan of friendly fire when it came to her killers, she knew this far too well.

[F/n] felt her heartbeat quicken, clutching a fistful of her serape. Heavy footsteps did nothing to reel her from overthinking as Danny made his presence known. Arm extended to grip the doorframe.

The leather of his glove crossing her eyes first before the rest of him did.

Danny shook his head as their eyes met. Demeanor anything but well, there was no sugarcoating what transpired. 

"Well there's two things— it's a shitshow." He pauses, head shrinking back in anticipation.

"They ended up interrogating your little plaything, toots."

[E/c] eyes widen, [F/n] paced towards him with anger.

"What do you mean?"

"Well..."

Leon sighed, planting his thumb and index finger across his forehead. He was visibly annoyed. Though he didn't expect any less from the result of their previous trial. Tossing his head back out of his hunched position, he stands, finally turning towards the group with a stern expression.

He felt his anxiety rising under the number of mixed stares he'd receive from judging eyes. Awaiting any sort of explanation, reasoning, justification. They all wanted an answer he couldn't honestly give them.

"I already said what happened, whether you believe me or not isn't my problem." Leon repeats.

YunJin scoffs at him. "Do we look stupid to you?" Her arms crossed. "You spent hours in the realm!" The accusatory tone in her voice didn't go unnoticed. Their other two teammates, Dwight and David, were complete contrasts of each other's reactions.

David appeared more annoyed than upset, his hand rubbing the ache felt within his head. Like YunJin, he suspected something was going on: whether it was foul play or not was something to be told. Though he wasn't nowhere near accusatory.

Dwight on the other hand chewed on his nails, rather dismissive of the entire situation, figuring there must've been some sort of misunderstanding. They were all on the same side, it wouldn't make any sense for Leon to lie. He was a rookie cop fighting to save the world.

"Maybe he's... telling the truth?" He mumbles just loud enough to be heard, readjusting his glasses to see YunJin shoot him a displeased look. "I-I mean he has n-no reason to lie? I, uhm, I trust him..."

Dwight's voice gets softer and softer, feeling the pressure as the three stare intensely at him. Leon makes eye contact with Dwight, nodding at him in appreciation. In return, Dwight smiles sheepishly. Almost proud.

Though Leon felt bad for taking advantage of his naivety, the result of outing themselves far outweighed his guilt.

YunJin, scoffing, makes her discontent even more obvious than it already was. She grimaced, shoving a finger close to Leon's features. "Whatever you are hiding— you will regret it. That girl is nothing more than a manipulator."

The sound of crunching leaves quickly fills the ambiance as Yunjin storms off, David following after with a disappointed sigh and a mutter.

Leon stands, a wave of relief washing over him as their figures soon disappear within the trees. For the time being the issue has been squashed, at least until Yunjin tries something. He crosses his arms.

Dwight nervously laughs. "Y-You've always been nice to everyone at the campsite, so I-I trust you. Yunjin can be a bit... uh... Overdramatic?" Dwight struggles to find the words, not that it mattered. Leon can tell what the intention was, grateful at the attempt.

"Thank you." Was all he said, needed to, as Dwight returns the expression. He looks in the direction they walked off in momentarily before meeting his eyes again. Dwight immediately gets the message.

Danny peeks his head out of the tree he stood behind, eyes glued to the man who his best friend had fallen for. He becomes very aware of how hard he was gripping the handle of his knife. And suddenly, it dawned on him.

He wasn't staring at Leon, Danny was staring through him— the direction where the others walked in.

The way YunJin walked off raised some alarm. Was she a threat? Danny couldn't exactly hear the conversation due to the proximity between them. Regardless, this was something he couldn't chance. Merely judging based off expressions it was nothing good.

Danny scoops up a small rock beside him, gently tossing it in the air to test its velocity before launching it through the barrier. The small waves it produced as a result was enough to capture Leon's gaze, spotting it as it kicked up the dirt beside him upon landing.

Ghostface waves him over, causing Leon to look behind him for a moment to ensure Dwight was no longer around. Leon walks over to Danny without hesitation.

"YunJin— does she want to die?"

"All she knows is that I'm hiding something.”

Danny, dissatisfied at the answer, says nothing else but rolls his dark eyes at the response. He turns his back on Leon, taking a few steps away whilst fixing his mask. When he halted, he peers over his shoulder.

"Your girlfriend asked for you."

"Should've said something sooner."

It takes Leon a second before coming his side almost too eagerly. His boyish grin didn't go unnoticed. Danny raises a brow amused by the reaction. 

"Completely shameless." Ghostface chimed. 

Fading into the trees, the only a trace of them left were the crushed leaves that met their shoes.

"So where the fuck is he?" [F/n] interrupted impatiently, looking in the direction Danny originally walked in from. She held some expectation he would be near, though when she saw no trace of him her gaze returns to Danny.

Thankful she couldn't see the expression behind his mask, a bead of imaginary sweat runs from his forehead down to his chin. "...And that's the second issue. We got separated trying to enter your realm.”

The immediate shift of her expression made him cringe.

She less than subtly pushed past his shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly. Though it wasn't powerful enough to knock him over, it was enough for Danny to shoot her a glare. 

"You're welcome too... bitch." He brushed it off quickly as he joined her out the door.

⨯ ┈┈┈┈┈✦┈┈┈┈┈ ⨯

Crouched behind a wall of trash, Leon tensed as the sound of footsteps came closer. The pit in his stomach grew as he leaned over in an attempt to get a glance. Eyes meeting the figure of the man who looked around with a purpose.

He inches towards the opposite end, making the turn just in time as Evan moved forward. His fist clenched on the handle of his cleaver which was painted a sickly red at the dried blood. A low growl breaks the silence.

"I know you're out here!"

If anyone were to tell him this would be the current state of his life going into the future, that rookie officer would probably shit himself.

The cold sweat on Leon's neck increases as he does his best to create as much distance as possible between them. Leon spots a vault a few steps away, tracking towards it. His steps were light, worried the slightest sound would be his last, relieved once he successfully made it completely across.

Leon turns his head back, only able to see the very top of Evan's back.

"I'm not in the mood to play this game of hide and seek. Whoever's here needs to get the fuck OUT!" Evan's voice rung throughout the realm in clear agitation.

As nice as the idea was, Leon quite literally had no idea how to leave. Traditionally he'd have to do generators, but a quick survey of the area revealed the fact that there were none, and there was no indicator that hatch was present.

His only logical option was to wait out this entire situation. Surely Danny would've known something had gone wrong when they were no longer walking together. It only made sense he'd be searching after noticing.

Hopefully.

His attempt to go unnoticed is quickly erased as a small twig snapped underneath the sole of his shoe. Unable to contain the "oh shit," at his lips when he heard heavy footsteps come around the corner.

Evan wasn't sure who to expect. He assumed it was Danny playing a prank on him again or maybe even the entity fucking with him. So, when he laid his eyes on Leon, Evan was completely caught off-guard, dumbfounded as to why a survivor was lurking in his personal realm.

His nonexistent brows raise, giving it thought. The only way a survivor could end up in a killer's personal realm was if another killer had brought them there— and no survivor was insane enough to trust a killer outside of their protective dome in the first place.

Something wasn't adding up. Who could possibly be in cahoots with the survivors? Unless it was the entity herself? But this wasn't a match, there would be no point in presenting him otherwise.

With the grip on Evan's cleaver becoming tighter, Leon decides it's time to back up, eyes glued to the Trapper. The staring contest ends after Evan takes his first step forward as Leon breaks into a sprint.

Evan takes a second to recollect his thoughts before chasing after his intruder. Purposely tailing him in a calculated route, he knew it was only a matter of time before Leon stepped into one of the dozens of active traps laying around his realm.

Leon does his best to focus but finds difficulty in finding a safe path to dart towards. Any mistake could cost him his life.

But Leon was no simple man, vaulting over another opening as Evan swiped his weapon at him. Nearly tumbling in the process as an armed trap rested several inches before it, he narrowly avoided both ill outcomes.

"Can we talk about this?!" Leon shouts, finally panicking. No matter what he did, realization sunk in incredibly quickly as his options had finally run dry. The trap he missed clicking underneath the sole of his shoe.

Evan says nothing in return, instead watching the scene unfold. 

Leon screamed as rusted metal locked into his ankle. He ducks down, desperately pulling the mechanism's jaw for any sort of relief. The pain was excruciating, crushing, on an entirely different level than what he was familiar with. Reality draws in the shadow hides him from the nonexistent light source.

"You're making a mistake!!!"

Leon looked up to watch him draw his weapon back, sweat turning ice cold as he stared death in the face. How could this possibly be fair? Out of everything he had survived through, this was how it ended— trapped like a helpless animal. He felt resentment at his circumstance, praying to a god he knew wouldn't listen.

The sound of harsh winds part through the air with lethal speed, scythe sticking into the ground effortlessly between them. Evan turns his head in the direction it came from, spotting the silhouette that stood on the roof of his shack.

It was a warning.

"Hey, Evan, buddy, I'm really sorry." Danny twiddled with his fingers: tone coated with more sarcasm than understanding. His knife not straying far, it comes out of his sleeve and into his gasp.

Leon takes this moment to grab the scythe, sticking its blade in between the claws he successfully pries himself free. He wobbled slightly, hissing, the pain was greater than what he accustomed to, using the staff as support.

Evan watches him go, making no effort to resume his chase: instead attending to his curiosity turning his attention to the approaching figure. It doesn't take him long to digest the information, clicking near immediately at the scene.

"A killer saving a survivor." He puts it simply, releasing a chuckle mocking the idea. "And I thought I went insane battling with the entity. You're fuckin' worse!"

"Evan." [F/n] states as if his name was an insult itself, [e/c] eyes squinting subtly in agitation. Clearly displeased and even more so when she takes the sight of Leon limping. She comes to his side, carrying him into her arms almost effortlessly with her blade still in his hold.

Leon swallows a grunt, relieved at the loss of pressure from his burning ankle.

"You okay?"

Appearing indifferent, she subtly observes his reaction in masked worry. "I'm fine now." Leon mumbles, offering her a small reassuring smile. [F/n] hums in acknowledgement, focusing her distain towards Evan.

"You know survivors aren't protected outside of a match."

"Then this is the perfect opportunity."

"Desperate enough to resort to this, Evan? Cause this is pretty fuckin' pathetic." 

Silence, though it doesn't last longer than a moment. 

"How long?" Trapper continues, moving to get closer only for Danny to step before the couple shaking his head. He brandished his already stained blade. 

A reminder. 

Evan growls at him in response, nearly offended.

"This doesn't concern you."

"You seriously think you can keep this hidden from her? She'll shred you both like scum: use your little boyfriend to make you feel a whole other type of pain you both can't forget." Evan spits, invisible grin emerging. 

"Are you prepared for that, farmer? You're gonna lose him— just like how you lost everyone else. It’s all you know how to do, lose."

[F/n]'s grip on Leon becomes tighter and tighter as her agitation grows, masking it with a taunting smile on her lips along a heavy exhale. 

"Anyone ever tell ya' you got a big fuckin’ mouth on you? Bastard." Smirk becoming wider, Evan shrugs confidently at her question.

"You should thank me for trying to bring you out of your delusion."

"Of course, how about I return the favor and teach you some manners as my thanks?"

The Trapper readjusts his grip on his hatchet completely unbothered; Danny's hum of disapproval interrupts the increasing tension, doing his best to divert their attention. 

"It's too risky to do this with him here, toots." Gesturing obviously at Leon's presence, [F/n]'s tight grip instantly vanishes.

Leon winced at the sudden release of pressure, sighing through the pain. He meets her [e/c] eyes apologetically. Though there was no fooling his infatuated killer.

The thought cooks in her mind. As much as he was right it aggravated her. She wanted to punish Evan with every driving force in her body. No matter the consequence from the entity.

[F/n]'s predatory gaze meets the Trapper a final time. His figure burned in her memory. 

“Whatever.”

Evan looks at her expectantly, knowing well he won the exchange his eyes gleam the reflection of a crow taking off in the background.

"You'll hear from me again very soon."

At her signal, Danny walks over to her, fishing for something underneath his coat he pulls out a foreign offering.

The Trapper smirks. "Don’t keep me waiting."

Evan watches Danny use the offering, taking a mental picture of the fog enveloping around them. His stare glued towards the survivor, more amused than anything, while he hums in content.

And just as quickly they were there: they weren't. Evan tilts his head, readjusting the hold on his machete as excitement rumbles through his veins. His stifled chuckle finally emerging.

"Let's see how long your lover’s charade will last, farmer."

[c-e-d-dreamer]

I was at the Carolina Hurricanes game tonight and I thought of you! Are you a Canes fan? Or any other team? Or hockey in general?

Ok so I also thought of you when reading The Goal by Elle Kennedy. It’s the fourth book in her Off-Campus series which starts with The Deal. Anyway, they are all hockey player romances and all great, but The Goal especially gave me such Nessian vibes. Wondering if you have read it and if you would consider writing a Nessian spin on that story?

Um, did we just become best friends, Anon? Because you're speaking my language here. The Canes and Nessian are two of my all time favorite things!

First of all, I am both sorry and jealous you got to witness Saros unlock god-mode live. Because seriously, what the fuck? But you also got to see Patches' first game, so that is cool.

To answer your question, yes, the Hurricanes are my team. I've been a fan since freshman year of high school so around 15 years now. My fave player at the mo is Necas, but I will admit I'm scared to get his jersey because I have bad luck with those. Eric Staal, Jeffry Skinner, Elias Lindholm, Victor Rask... I actually own 4 Victor Rask jerseys, and that trade still haunts me. I literally cried in my office bathroom when it was announced.

To answer your second question, I read the first 3 books of the Off Campus series. Garrett Graham has my whole ass heart. I actually started the Goal but ended up stopping because I wasn't sure I could make it through an accidental pregnancy story, but honestly, you saying it has Nessian vibes straight up just convinced me to pick it back up again.

I'm not sure if I'd ever do an Off Campus type Nessian fic. For one, Who's Counting is already a college AU and features sports captain Cassian, even if it's soccer instead of hockey, so I'd fear they'd end up too similar in terms of story. But never say never.

I am, of course, planning a hockey player Cassian full blown chaptered Nessian fic for this year though! It will feature NHL defensemen Cassian because you cannot convince me that that man wouldn't be a D-man. He gets traded and is all sad because he doesn't know anyone in the new city, but then Feyre is like oh my sister lives there, and then, of course, shenanigans ensue.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 8

Title: “I may just take your breath away” / Sweater Weather AU

Relationship: Jemily

Word count: 35,604

Summary:

Penelope hacks the college. JJ pets a cat. There are three blowjobs. Need I say more?

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

JJ adjusted the textbook in her hands, rolling onto her side to get comfortable with it. Behind her, was the calming sounds of Penelope’s pop music and her dancing fingertips as she typed code into her computer. 

She had only a few pages left to read, but she was having a hard time focusing. JJ’s brain kept drifting to the events of that weekend. On Halloween, they played spin the bottle. JJ’s spin landed right on Emily, meaning that they had to kiss. 

But it was not chaste. As Penelope most eloquently put it: “you two were seconds from ripping each other’s clothes off in front of us.”

JJ couldn’t wrap her head around it. 

Emily had really kissed her. There was tongue. It was not a peck to play the game; they had gone at it like teenagers in the backseat of a car at a lovers’ lane. 

It made reading her textbook difficult when she knew what Emily’s tongue felt like against hers. It made doing her essay challenging when she could remember the taste of her lips. It made doing just about anything next to impossible when JJ was desperate to kiss Emily again. 

“Did you know that it’s Hotch’s birthday tomorrow?” Penelope asked, spinning in her chair to look at JJ. 

“Wait, what?” JJ asked. She looked up from her textbook.  

“So... I’ve hacked into the college database,” Penelope said, turning back to her computer, her hands were once again typing a mile a minute. “Because of the whole thing with Reid not telling us about his birthday, the poor thing, and I didn’t want to miss anyone else’s.”

“Maybe we could do a co-birthday?” JJ mused, thinking about the logistics of that. 

“You read my mind, my beautiful sporty friend,” Penelope replied. “I’ve almost got everyone’s, just a minute.”

JJ stood up, walked over to Garcia’s side of the room. Somehow, her side of the room was cleaner than JJ’s, despite the sheer amount of things. Her desk was covered in trinkets, decorations and her wall covered in posters, art prints and photographs. JJ’s, on the other hand, had significantly less stuff, and way more mess. She was a busy girl and her desk was basically useless with all of her books and loose paper and miscellaneous things she needed to deal with ages ago. 

“Did you know that Morgan is a gemini?” Penelope asked. 

“Figures,” JJ replied, hoping that was the right response. 

Garcia had two monitors on her light, wooden desk, and a large desktop computer that she had built herself tucked underneath. On one monitor, was a file that she was slowly adding to, of birthdays written in white text on a grey background. Her own was there, alongside Spencer, Hotch, Derek….

JJ then watched as Garcia typed out Emily’s birthday: October 12. They had missed it too!

“Oh my god,” Penelope said, “why don’t they tell us these things?! How did we befriend such secretive people.”

“Wait, when was that?” JJ murmured, grabbing her wall calendar and flipping through the pages. “Oh my god I saw her that day. She was baking cookies, alone.”

“Alone?” Penelope whimpered. 

JJ thought back to that night. She had barged into the kitchen, talked all about her impending break up with Will, and ate Emily’s cookies. She felt awful. Obviously they didn’t know each other as well then, but why was she alone?

“She didn’t even tell Derek,” Penelope said, “oh that sweet summer child. Who hurt her?”

JJ always celebrated her birthday. Be it a family dinner or a full on birthday party when she was a kid, JJ was used to a fuss made about her each year. It was harder after Ros, but her parents refused to let the day pass without at least a cake and a present. 

As she befriended Penelope last year, their birthdays were filled with presents and friendship and alcohol, both girls making sure to give the other a thoughtful gift and make a fuss for the day.

Her heart was breaking that three of her new friends were about to let theirs pass without anything to show for it. 

“We should have a party,” JJ blurted. 

“You read my mind.”

JJ frankly welcomed the distraction from her circular thoughts about her kiss with Emily.

 ——— 

JJ left another store empty handed. She had first placed an order at a store downtown for a birthday cake, with three names on it which confused the baker, then began to wander downtown searching for presents. 

She had another half hour before she was supposed to meet back up with Derek and Penelope, who were at the dollar store buying decorations, and she had hoped to find something for Emily by then. 

The three of them were quite efficient at party planning, and they had to be with such a quick turnaround time. JJ had been tasked with finding a present for Emily.

For Hotch, they wrangled a bottle of the nicer whiskey that he liked, because even at the age of 21, he was somehow already an old man in his tastes. Spencer was also easy, because Penelope was working on knitting him a scarf. Apparently it was from the show Dr. Who, but JJ didn’t really know much about that besides that it was British and both he and Penelope were big fans. 

Emily was a lot harder to shop for. 

What could JJ get for her with the thirty dollars that they all had pitched in to fund her present? Not much. Especially since JJ knows that Emily comes from money. If she wanted something, she could probably just buy it for herself, right? 

It was also difficult because it would be from her. It would be a token of her affections. What were her affections? Did she want to simply sleep with her? Date with her? Be her best friend? JJ’s thoughts were a mess.

JJ had been in just about every store downtown, browsing clothes, gift stores, even a plant store in which she contemplated the meaning of getting Emily a cactus. Nothing was quite right.

She had almost given up when she wandered past a used book store. She had never been in before but always meant to. Out front was a stack of old milk crates filled with books, mostly romance novels and thrillers, and inside the window, beautifully bound antique books were resting in the display. 

A bell dinged as she walked in, and an elderly man waved at her from the counter before returning to his own book. 

Inside, the smell of old books filled her senses, mixed with the smell of apples and cinnamon and the earthy smell of all the old buildings in her college town. 

Stacked floor to ceiling were mountains of books, towering over her head. 

There were a few other patrons in the shop, some sitting and reading, others wandering the stacks, pulling out the occasional book. 

JJ slowly made her way through the maze. It was larger inside than she expected, with thousands of old books surrounding her, no matter where she looked. At times, she had to step over a pile of books in her path. 

The books were organized by topic, but within that, JJ couldn’t discern a clear system. 

She climbed the creaky staircase and pondered what kind of book Emily would like. Is buying her a romance novel too forward? JJ wondered. She probably wouldn’t be able to find one with two women anyways. 

Did Emily like fantasy? Sci-fi? Non Fiction? Should JJ get her something she’s read? JJ realized that she hadn’t read anything that wasn’t for school in ages. 

JJ felt overwhelmed. Was she thinking too hard? 

She did a double take at the window sill, realizing that the movement that caught her eye was a black cat basking in the sunlight. 

JJ reached out her hand tentatively to pet it. The cat nuzzled her hand, and began to purr. JJ smiled, spending a few minutes giving the cat much needed attention. 

The cat then stood, apparently growing bored, and ran off to investigate something or chase a mouse or whatever bookstore cats got up to. 

Where it lay was a small book. It was old, but not as old as some of the other leather bound texts in this store. Its white cover had a simple drawing of a boy, and written in a looping script: “Le Petit Prince.”

JJ smiled slightly, picking up the thin book. She leaned against the windowsill and carefully flipped through the pages, admiring the illustrations and trying to decipher the premise with her limited understanding of French. 

It seemed like it was for children, with whimsical art of a boy on a small planet, a king, a rose and a fox, among other things. She read the first few pages, about a boy falling in love with a flower, and decided it was perfect. 

It was a sign, JJ thought, the cat led her to this book. 

The cat—which reminded JJ of Emily with its standoffish exterior but affectionate personality—had clearly shown her that this was the perfect present. 

There was no price on it, and JJ worried that it would be out of her budget. Holding it to her chest, she descended the steps and brought the book to the clerk. 

“Hello sir,” JJ greated him, setting the book down on the table, “How much is this book? ”

He was seated in a comfortable looking chair behind a counter with an old-fashioned cash register. The sign on it read, ‘cash only’  and there was a tip jar in the form of a cat mug. 

“Oh this is an excellent choice!” The man lifted the book up, examining the cover. “On ne voit qu’avec le cœur.”

That was French. JJ didn’t know what it meant, only catching the word “heart” at the end. She nodded nonetheless. 

“You speak French?” He asked her. 

She shrugged. “I’m learning.” 

“This book will teach you more than just French,” the man said. “Trust me.”

JJ didn’t know what he meant, but nodded. He still hadn’t told her how much it was. 

“It’s a gift,” JJ explained, “for a friend.”

He handed her back the book, smiling at her. He gave it to her for fifteen dollars, seeming to make up the price on the spot. The black cat waited for her near the door, letting her pet him on the ears before she left. 

JJ left the door, hugging the book to her chest. 

 ——— 

Wrangling three of their friends into attending a surprise party was harder than it looked.

With three student athletes, nights during which none of them had games, or practices were scarce, so it took them until the next Friday before they found a free evening. Then, they had to go through the ordeal of convincing them to show up at Derek’s room at the right time. 

JJ felt giddy with the secret, greatly enjoying the party planning and doing something special for her new friends. On her Wednesday afternoon study date with Emily, her excitement for the party almost overpowered her nervousness with the girl due to their recent kiss. JJ caught herself looking more at Emily than her notes, alternating between imagining them kissing and imagining the look on Emily’s face when she received her present. 

By seven that Friday night, they had fully decorated Derek’s tiny dorm with streamers, balloons, and just about anything Penelope could find at the dollar store. A happy birthday sign was strung over one of the windows, with the addition of their friends' names written in marker on poster boards taped underneath.  

Their presents were wrapped messily, as JJ wasn’t particularly good at using wrapping paper. The cake sat on Derek’s desk reading “Happy (belated) birthday Emily, Hotch and Spencer!” in red icing on white cake. 

The three of them were frantically blowing up balloons and checking their phones. JJ felt slightly light headed by the time they were done. 

Hotch and Emily were coming for a “study date” with Derek, and Spencer was expecting a Dr. Who marathon with Garcia. All were supposed to be there any minute.

There was a knock on the door. 

“Get ready!” Garcia squealed, “someone’s here!” 

She opened the door, and instead of the birthday kids, it was David Rossi, who JJ had met for the first time a few weeks prior. He was 22, only a few months older than Hotch, in his first year of his masters. He and Hotch were close, and Emily and Derek knew him well since he TA’d one of their classes. 

“Rossi?” Derek said, “you came!”

“I never turn down an invitation to a party,” he said. 

“I have to admit,” Derek said, “it’s not that much of a party.“

“It’s more of a magical birthday get together,” Penelope said as she ushered him in. 

“Good thing I brought enough alcohol to make it a party,” he said. 

He pulled a very expensive looking bottle of vodka out of his backpack, and more beers than should fit in a normal sized bag. 

“I take it back,” Derek said, “this is definitely a party.”

There was another knock on the door.

“Come in!” Garcia said, picking up a balloon to throw. 

Spencer opened the door trailed by Hotch and Emily, all looking confused as they were bombarded by a dozen balloons cascading down from above and a series of hugs from the group. All were looking around with a mix of shock and happiness on their faces.

“It’s technically none of your birthdays today,” Penelope said, “Because you are all such awful private people, BUT I got the goods and figured it out. We thought we would celebrate all of you guys, and our amazing friend group, with this little shindig.”

“It’s wonderful Garcia,” Hotch said, almost smiling, “Thank you.”

“Don’t just thank me!” she said, “It was Miss Jennifer’s idea, and she got the cake. And my beautiful Derek helped me with the decorations and loaned his room, which might I say, is strangely large for a single room.”

Derek chucked, “It was my pleasure, happy birthday you three.”

He pulled Spencer in and ruffled his hair. 

“We’ve ordered pizza too!” JJ announced, “It should be here any minute now.”

“You’re too good to us,” Emily finally spoke up, after standing in the doorway with a dazed expression on her face. 

Penelope guided them in, and the group exchanged hugs and laughter, and Hotch got a very Italian kiss on the cheek from Rossi. Penelope put silly birthday hats on their heads, and took photos like a proud mother. 

After a few minutes of chatter—about the decorations, how they managed to keep it a secret, and most importantly, the illegality of Penelope hacking into their personal data on the university server— JJ’s phone pinged and she ran to the foyer to get the pizzas. 

Munching on greasy food, there was a companionable silence with the cheery sounds of the music in the background. 

As pizza wrapped up, their chatter resumed and the room filled with overlapping conversations. JJ noticed Rossi had snuck off to fish something out of Derek’s mini fridge, pouring something out into shot glasses. Then she heard the sound of whipped cream. 

At that sound, all heads turned towards him. He had three cups filled to the brim with whipped cream and he looked like he was about to burst into laughter at any point. 

“BIRTHDAY SHOTS!” Penelope squealed. 

“No way,” Hotch said, “I’m not doing one of those.”

“One of what?” Spencer asked nervously. 

“It’s not a blowjob is it?” Emily asked with a laugh. 

“A blowjob?” Spencer asked even more nervously. 

“It’s a shot, kid,” Derek assured him, “you just can’t use your hands and there’s the-“ 

He gestured at the whipped cream with a laugh.

“White stuff!” Emily said, tying up her hair into a ponytail in preparation. 

Rossi had to explain the premise several times, before it sunk in that they had to fish out the small shot and drink it all without using their hands. Reid looked at them suspiciously but he warmed up to the idea after Hotch offered to go first so he could see how it’s done. 

The older boy had definitely done a blowjob shot before, efficiently grabbing the plastic shot cup and downing it, his cheeks covered with whipped cream. 

Emily was enthusiastically buried in the whipped cream but struggled on the follow through, spilling most of the vodka into the larger cup before she drank it. 

Reid seemed nervous to get the whipped cream on his face, reeling back and wiping his cheeks then trying again. 

Eventually, Derek reached his hand into the cup, retrieved the shot and held it up to Spencer’s mouth.

“Look ma, no hands!” Morgan quipped before rubbing some leftover whipped cream on the younger boy’s face as the group laughed. Reid was laughing happily, beaming as he wiped his face. 

With the celebratory shot in their system, it was time for cake. JJ carefully used Penelope’s bright pink lighter to ignite candles on each piece for her three friends as they sang Happy Birthday to them.  

“Happy birthday to you!” They sang, “happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Hotch, Spence and Emily! Happy birthday to you!”

They blew out their candles. All were instructed to make wishes. 

As the night progressed, JJ got more and more nervous about the present. What if Emily hated it? Would she ruin the whole night? Penelope and Derek had assured her that it was a good present but what if they were wrong too?

JJ busied herself with cutting the cake, distributing pieces and making sure everyone had forks and napkins. 

Rossi, who was their unofficial bartender, was stationed near the mini fridge and passed out fresh beers when called upon. 

“Gifts!” Penelope exclaimed once they had made good work of the cake, dragging the presents out from their hiding space under Derek’s desk.

She handed them over to Emily, Hotch and Reid. 

“We all pitched in,” Derek said. 

All three looked perturbed at the fuss, murmuring “you shouldn’t have” as they looked at the gift. Spencer opened his and laughed, wrapping the incredibly long striped scarf around his neck and thanking Penelope. Aaron actually did smile at his present and expressed his gratitude by pouring them all shots. 

Emily held hers for a moment, staring at the wrapped book with an unreadable expression on her face. JJ watched, holding her breath as she turned it over, then placed it back down. 

“Will you excuse me for a second?” Emily said, her voice tight and sounding very… formal. 

JJ gulped as Emily stood, and exited the dorm, shutting the door behind her. She immediately thought that she had done something wrong.

The group looked back and forth, not quite sure what to do, as the commotion happened mid way through Hotch doling out shots of whiskey and some were already half raised. 

A moment passed as JJ thought about whether it would be worse for her to follow or leave her be. Maybe she wanted to be left alone? Maybe JJ was the last person Emily wanted to see?

She knew there was a lot about Emily that she didn’t know. Like JJ, the other girl kept a lot close to her chest. Over time, JJ had learned some details of her childhood, but not all, and what she knew didn’t look good. Maybe all of this was a bad idea? Emily might have had a reason that she didn’t celebrate her birthday. This could have been an awful plan and it would have been all JJ’s fault. 

She stood and grabbed the book, deciding to follow Emily. She slipped out the door and walked slowly down the hall, unsure of what she would even say to Emily once she faced her. Hey I just gave you a gift and you all but ran out of the room before you opened it, did I offend you somehow? Or I’m sorry?

JJ wasn’t sure what she was sorry for. She just knew something was upsetting Emily and the last thing JJ wanted to be was the cause of that. In fact, she wanted to make Emily happy and make sure nothing ever bothered her ever again. It would probably be weird for her to say that, right? 

She assumed that Emily had gone to the communal bathroom, as she left her lanyard with her room keys behind her in Derek’s room. If she had left the floor she would have been locked out. 

JJ took a breath outside the door, then pushed it open. 

Emily was standing in the bathroom that all of the girls floor shared, with its small row of stalls, old fashioned sinks and blue tiled floor. A frosted window that looked out into the courtyard. Many mornings JJ found herself brushing her teeth next to the other girl. 

Emily had her arms braced on the sides of the sink, leaning forward and looking at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was coming in quick breaths. 

“Em?” JJ said softly. 

Startled by the noise, Emily looked away from her, quickly pulling up a corner of her shirt to wipe her eyes. 

“You ok?” JJ asked, tucking the present behind her back. 

“I’m fine,” Emily said, standing up straight and giving her a half smile. Her posture was stiff, her smile forced.

“You don’t look fine.” 

Emily stepped back, leaning against the window sill. She crossed her arms, still avoiding any eye contact. 

JJ walked forward, slowly closing the distance. 

She leaned on the wall beside Emily, trying not to stare at her and make her feel uncomfortable. 

“Did I do something wrong?” JJ asked. Her voice sounded small in her ears. She immediately kicked herself, upset at how this might sound like she was making it all about herself. 

“No!” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head. “No. It wasn’t you it’s…”

She trailed off. 

“I’ve never had all this before. The friends and the party and the gifts. All this attention… it’s a lot.” 

She slid to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. JJ did the same, turning to face the other girl. She didn’t want to push too hard lest Emily flee from her again.

“It’s all so nice,” Emily whispered. 

“Then what’s wrong?” JJ asked softly. 

Emily sighed and began to bite her nails. Her posture was hunched over, curled up on the cold tile floor. 

She began to speak, then stopped herself, gritting her teeth and blinking hard. She looked over at JJ reluctantly, seeming to think hard about how to answer that question. 

“I was always the new girl wherever I was,” she said. “I was never anywhere enough to make friends, real friends that is. Or have anything like all this. I would do anything to fit in and it never seemed to work.”

JJ’s heart felt like it was breaking for her friend. She tried to imagine Emily trying to be anyone else other than the Emily she knew and couldn’t. Fitting in is hard, let alone fitting into new countries and learning new languages. JJ knew she wouldn’t have been able to keep it together.

Emily shook her head, picking at the skin around her nails anxiously, JJ could tell that sharing all of this was incredibly difficult. 

“I lived in a dozen different countries and was barely  there long enough to make friends and when I did…” Emily sighed. “I fucked it up. I make things worse for people.” 

Emily buried her face in her hands, her breaths coming harder now. Her voice was shaky and quiet, almost whispering to JJ. 

“My mom was never around on my birthdays. She would leave me a present. Maybe. This year she didn’t even call.”

Emily paused. 

“And then you guys do all this.” 

Emily looked up, staring with unfocused eyes into the bathroom, JJ could tell she was thinking of someone else, some other day. She looked lost. 

JJ wanted to hold her hand, wanted to comfort her, keep her close. She was always called the mom friend, it was in her nature to try and make sure her friends were taken care of. Her feelings for Emily complicated things. If she was anyone else, she would grab her hand, no questions asked, but she felt herself second-guessing each move.  

Her actions suddenly felt like they had more weight to them. Knowing that she liked Emily made everything strange. If she held her hand, would it be weird? She didn’t know. Normally, she wouldn’t question holding a friend’s hand, hell, she’d already held Emily’s hand. 

But that was before she was gay, or bi, or whatever. Before she knew she liked girls. Liked Emily. Now, touching her felt scary, like she was doing something wrong, even if she was simply trying to be nice. 

Fighting against her anxious thoughts, JJ reached out, tugging at Emily’s wrist until her hand clasped onto hers. JJ ran a reassuring thumb over her hand. She sighed a breath of relief when Emily leaned into the touch. 

“You’re our friend,” JJ said, simply. “And we care about you.” 

Emily nodded, still not looking at her. 

“When I held your present in my hands,” Emily said, “I just couldn't stop thinking of my friend Matthew. He surprised me on my sixteenth birthday, pulling me out of some stupid event my mother had dragged me to. That was the only time I got a real birthday present before now.”

JJ hadn’t heard about this friend. Emily didn’t really talk about her past, beyond the general facts. JJ had to stop herself from prying, fighting back her curiosity in favour of letting Emily talk. 

She squeezed Emily’s hand in a gesture she hoped would be encouraging.  

“Your gift just brought back a lot of memories,” Emily said with a whisper. “Matthew basically saved my life. He was the only friend I had before now I guess.” 

She looked over at JJ. 

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, wiping at her eyes. 

“Don’t be.”

JJ pulled Emily into her, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tight. Emily let out a muffled sob and fell into her, with her head tucked under JJ’s chin. They sat like that for a while, JJ listening to Emily’s ragged breathing and JJ running a calming hand over her back. Emily’s face was buried in her shoulder, her soft hair tickled JJ’s face as she held her tight.  

She focused on rubbing Emily’s back, making patterns with her hand on top of her soft sweater. Emily’s arms were wrapped around her waist. 

For a moment, tears pricked at JJ’s eyes. Watching Emily finally be vulnerable to her, for her to share something, even if she left out details, was a lot. She blinked them back and focused on steadying her breathing, being a calm presence for Emily. 

After a moment Emily pulled away, creating some distance between them, wiping her face with her sleeve and sniffling. 

“JJ I don’t want you to get hurt,” Emily said, her voice cracking, “I just bring people pain.”

“What happened, Em?” JJ asked. 

Emily looked at her with teary eyes and shook her head. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Emily. But I need you to know that whatever it is, I’ll still be here. I care so much about you and just… like being your friend. I don’t care what happened in your past or if you think you’re going to hurt me. All I care about is us.”

“I like being your friend,” Emily said with a teary laugh. 

JJ smiled at her, pulling her into another hug. Holding her tight feeling like the girl would break into pieces in front of her if she let go. 

“Do you want your present?” JJ asked carefully, still hugging Emily. She could feel the other girl nod. 

JJ pulled back, taking the wrapped book from the tile floor and placing it in Emily’s lap. Emily carefully began to unwrap it, as if she wasn’t allowed to rip the brightly patterned paper.

“You know you can rip it, right?” JJ said with a kind laugh. “Just tear it open, it’s part of the fun!”

Emily looked at her nervously, and half heartedly tugged at the wrapping paper. 

“Harder!” JJ said, demonstrating by pulling on it and making a satisfying tearing noise. JJ assumed that the girl didn’t have the opportunity to tear open presents as a kid, and JJ wanted to make sure she didn’t miss out on that joy anymore. 

Emily laughed and tore at it, ripping the paper off and revealing the small book underneath. Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. 

“I read this as a kid,” Emily breathed, staring at the cover reverently.  

She opened the cover and looked through the first few pages. 

“L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux,” Emily quoted the novel just as the book shop clerk had done.

“What is essential is invisible to the eyes,” JJ translated. “I don’t really get it. I tried to read it before I gave it to you, but didn’t make much headway.”

“It’s about love,” Emily said as she flipped through the pages.

Emily slowly turned the pages, smiling down at the whimsical illustrations and murmured about it in French that JJ couldn’t quite make out.

“I could translate it for you if you want?” Emily offered.

“Is it as good in English?”

“No,” Emily said with a laugh. 

JJ beamed, happy that her gift was no longer making Emily upset. She hoped that whatever bad memories she had about birthdays were being amended with some joy from today. 

“Well then I just have to get better at French so that I can understand it,” JJ said. “I’ll need a good tutor.”

“This is an amazing present. Thank you JJ.”

They smiled at each other.

“I’ll read it to you,” Emily said, “And you can stop me and I can explain anything you don’t understand.”

JJ’s heart fluttered at the thought of Emily reading a love story out loud. Though, from what she saw it was about a boy being in love with a flower so it couldn’t be that romantic, could it? 

“Sounds like a plan,” JJ said. “Should we get back? I wouldn’t want to worry the others.”

Emily nodded, then the two of them stood up together. JJ’s legs had fallen asleep while sitting on the cold, tiled floor so she dramatically shook them out, making Emily laugh. 

God her laugh, she wanted to hear that forever. She’d do anything to keep Emily smiling and happy.

As they walked back to the party, it was Emily who took JJ’s hand. 

Maybe they could be friends. Maybe that would be enough. 

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

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 Summary/Warnings: Amoreena meets Jo, Jo shares her experience with the foster homes (tw self-harm and child abuse), and Spencer shares his shitty childhood with her. They bond, he loves her more than he thought possible, his dreams of a big happy family are coming true.

word count: 4.8k

from the beginning <3

His phone is ringing at 7:50 and all he does is groan, forgetting Y/N’s agreement with Amoreena. His wife reached over his face and towards the phone, picking up with an overly cheerful tone for a pregnant woman who was up until 3 am.

“Hello sweet girl, how was your sleep?”

“Ugh,” she makes a weird face as the morning nausea kicks in and she tries to swallow it down. “Yeah? Oh, I’m so glad, dad and I are just waking up. We have another big surprise for you today… I know honey there’s always a lot going on, but this one is a good one I promise!”

“Can I go talk to her?” Spencer asks, “alone?”

“Dad’s going to come and see you while mommy has a shower, okay? I love you too, bye,” she smiles as she hangs up and passes the phone back to him.

They kiss quickly before separating, Spencer throws on the same clothes from the beach last night before heading down the hall towards Amoreena’s room. He knocks quietly before entering, seeing her sitting in a queen bed with 2 cats.

“Taylor let Olivia and Benjamin stay in here last night, she said they usually sleep in here anyway!” She was whispering, but it was still loud for her this early.

He sat on the edge of her bed and gave her a big hug, “how was your night?”

“Really amazing, Dad, Taylor is my best friend now,” she’s completely serious, “I hope mom’s not too upset about that, I guess we could share her…”

“That’s a nice thought, are you good at sharing?”

“I think so,” she nods with a serious face.

“Good, because there’s a new person who’s coming to live with us. She’s going to be kind of sad for a while and I’ll be spending a lot of time with her too,” he watches her face as she listens, confused but fine with it.

“Who is she?”

“Did your mom tell you how she made you?”

She nods, “she said sometimes people with penises donate sperm to help people have babies, and you were the one who donated for me,” she gives him a run down so seriously that it makes him laugh like the 7-year-old.

“Yeah, exactly, well I also helped 2 other families make babies,” he says softly, petting her hair as she understands what that means.

“So I have more siblings?”

“Yep, 2 sisters and a brother,” he smiles as she starts to bounce with excitement. “Josephine is 12, almost 13, and she’s coming to live with us.”

“Where is her mom?” She asks, he knew she would.

“Her mom and dad were in an accident, they died and she looked for me because she didn’t want to be alone anymore,” he knows it’s a hard topic, and that she understands death after losing her gg, but it’s still hard.

“Oh, that’s sad,” she frowns, moving in to hug him again, she keeps her head pressed to his shoulder. “I hope she’s okay, is she here now too?”

“She is, but I’m not sure if she’s awake yet, she’s a teenager and they sometimes sleep in longer than you would, like when Henry was over and slept until noon,” he has all his kids profiled in his minds and it’s actually more helpful than a hindrance.

“Does she like Taylor?”

He knew that one was coming too, “she’s a huge fan, she cried meeting her just like mom.”

“Is she going to call my mom her mom now?”

“I don’t think so, would that upset you?” He’s worried for the answer, he had the same jealous tendencies growing up. Hell, he still has them.

“No, she needs a mom, I would be very sad without mine, I know she needs one too,” she looked at him like it was a stupid question because of course, all kids need a mom and her mom happened to be the best.

“That’s really nice of you, she knows all about you and she’s really excited to move in with us, maybe you can help her decorate her room?” He isn’t sure what Jo will think, but he knows it would be good for bonding.

“Can we see if she’s awake? Wait, she’s a she right? Miss Kennedy said sometimes people look like girls but they don’t like to feel like girls, so we use they,” Amoreena was so worried about being a good sister he didn’t know why he worried so much.

“Well, I’m not sure, Jo hasn’t told me but you can ask?”

She shot right out of bed, still in her dress from last night as she ran to the door, “come on, what room is it?”

“Right there, knock nicely,” he says as he joins her in the hall, pointing to the room across from her.

She knocked 3 times, hearing a small ‘yeah?’ From the other side before opening it, “good morning!” Amoreena cheered.

“Amoreena!” Jo smiled as she got out of bed and ran over to her. She dropped to her knees so they’d be the same height and wrapped her up in her arms.

They hugged like this was a reunion and not an introduction, they held on to one another so tightly they both squeezed their eyes shut and held their breath. He knew that kind of hug, that was a hug you gave when you deeply loved the person you were hugging.

It made him want to cry, again.

Jo pulled back from her and Amoreena immediately held her face in her hands, observing her. “Yep, you’re my sister,” she smiled as she saw her nose.

That same perfect little button that was slightly angled towards the sky, she booped it lightly. Jo booped her right back.

“I am, it’s pretty cool getting to share a dad with you cause now I get to meet Taylor Swift, how the heck did we get so lucky?” Jo talks to her like she’s used to being around kids, finding the wonder in every word and saying the whole sentence with enthusiasm.

She turns to him, both his girls making the same face as they looked at him in the doorway, “how did you meet Taylor, dad?”

“You remember Uncle Dave? He came over for the barbecue and talked to poppy bob about winemaking all night?”

“Yeah, he’s Italian,” Amoreena remembered his funny accent and how she called him Mario.

“His daughter is Taylor’s friend, so Taylor sent me an email asking to meet you,” he couldn’t help but smile as she did.

“So you guys really are knights at the FBI, huh?”

“Yeah, but my armour got too rusty so now I’m going to guard the princess only, no more battles for me,” he was happy to make it magical, to turn the terribleness of it all into something she could be proud of.

He feels cold hands reaching under the back of his shirt then as he jumps, Y/N is wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cheek to his back, “your armour is fine, it just needs some polish.”

“They’re kinda gross, you’ll have to get used to that,” Amoreena says, pressing her lips together awkwardly as she looks at Jo.

“It’s nice though, it makes you feel like love is real,” Jo smiled back, “not many kids have happy families.”

“You do now, okay?” Amoreena took her cheeks in her hands again, something she must have learned from Y/N. “My family is your family and we are the best family, you’re going to have so much fun with us, can I help you decorate your room?”

Jo cried, laughing lightly as she nodded, “that would be cool, maybe we can get bunk beds for random sleepovers?”

Amoreena shot her eyes to her mom, “can we?”

“That would be cool,” Y/N agreed, “we’ll go to Ikea on Friday when I’m not working, okay?”

“And this weekend we can buy some paint for your room?” Spencer added, “you guys can plan all week together.”

“Yes!” Amoreena cheered, hugging Jo again.

Jo held her gently, resting her cheek against the top of Amoreena’s head with a small smile. She looked genuinely happy, peaceful like she belonged somewhere again.

Right then Amoreena’s eyes are darting right to him, “It’s fathers day!” She screams, way too loud for 8 am in someone else’s home. Thank god Taylor was on the other side of the mansion.

“Oh my god,” Amoreena smacked her forehead with her little hand, “I was so carried away with the wedding I didn’t pack your present, dad! I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve got you covered little miss,” Y/N smiled at her, “It’s in my purse!”

Amoreena pushed past them in the doorway and ran to their room in search of said purse. Probably emptying it out on the bed and making a huge mess, but it was fine.

Y/N took a moment to kiss his cheek, “good morning, happy father’s day.”

“Thank you,” he blushed, turning to face her and hold her close, “I can feel you staring Jo, come here.”

She comes skipping right over, wrapping her arms around them both and resting her head on Spencer’s side. For a 12-year-old she was tall, a lot taller than Henry was, that’s for sure.

“Hey!” Amoreena butts in, “let me in,” she pushed into the middle of the hug to steal all the warmth, “happy father’s day, dad.”

“Happy father’s day,” Jo added with a soft smile, “thank you for everything.”

“Yeah, you’re the best dad in the world, Jo you should see how he reads with his mind, he doesn’t even need to look at the books at bedtime,” Amoreena bragged, pulling back from all of them then.

Spencer wiped the tears from his face and pretended he wasn’t crying, overwhelmed by love just like he told Jo to expect. “I love you guys, I’m so glad I helped make you both, you’re the best kids a dad could ask for.”

“Here,” Amoreena hands him a wrapped present.

It’s a handmade book, blue construction paper bound with green ribbon in little loops and covered in a thin layer of tissue paper from the present he got her last week. He carefully removes the tissue and hands it back to her, “do you still want it for dresses?”

“Sure,” she takes it with a smile, “I wrote this for you after a dream I had, Miss Kennedy helped me write it all and reword it a bit. But it’s all from my brain.”

“Spencer’s little women,” he reads and then his heartbeat almost stops when he sees the bottom, “by Amoreena Reid.”

“We can go sit in the living room while you read it to us?” Y/N offered, taking the girl's hands and leading them all down the hallway.

Taylor’s house was full of floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing them to watch the sunrise over the ocean as they cuddled up on the couch as a family. Him and his little women.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a beautiful princess who had a broken heart. She promised to hide away from the townspeople until she gathered all the pieces again,” Spencer read the first sentence and knew he wouldn’t be able to make it through the whole book.

“You know, I think it would be better if you read this to me Amoreena,” he asks her gently, “I want to know it from your voice first.”

“Okay,” she bounces up from where she cuddled into her mother to take the book from his hand, sitting straight as she got ready to read.

“Slowly, but surely, the pieces came back to her one by one as the people felt the need to search for her, they missed seeing her smile as she ruled alongside her parents, the king and queen until her heart was fixed.

A little girl, Lady Amoreena, arrived like a gift. A fairy godmother handing a small child to the princess to raise and love forever and ever, they were best friends more than anything.

But the princess’s baby girl made it her mission to fix the rest of her heart as she grew up seeing her mom frown, questing for princes and kings, even another princess to come and fill that last missing spot of her heart. To make their family love grew as the cracks from where they separated were healed.

She set off on her daily adventure, running off past the gates on the way to the willow tree, excited to see what wonders the pond of youth brought to her this time. Surprised to find a knight, his broken and rusty armour fallen on the ground, he was wrapped in weeds, he had been trapped for too long to remember.

Amoreena cut the vines off him with her sword, “you’re free now, sir knight.”

“How can I ever repay you?” The kind man with the same nose as her asked.

“Meet the princess, tell her about your battles, make her laugh and you can stay with us,” she gives him one final quest. His last ever duty.

The princess smiles as soon as they meet. He wins her over without even trying, he completes their family and makes all the cracks in her heart fuse back together. Gold light shines from her as she’s healed, completed by the love of a family she never knew she needed.

The love didn’t end there… the knight and the princess knew lady Amoreena would be like her mom when she grew up. The possibility of a sad and broken heart as she got older, so they made her 8 more siblings, her group of sisters to keep her company during the happily ever after part.

“Sir Spencer, where are all your little women?” The king of the land asked, seeing the knight and the princess all alone on the path, old and slow as they walked.

“Down by the pond, it’s story day!”

He knew that’s where they’d always be, at their pond with a book, braiding each other's hair, weaving flower crowns and chasing each other through the wildflowers that replaced the vines that once held him down.

Free, healed and happy. Spencer and his little women healed the princess, allowing her to take the role as Queen, like her grandma always wanted for her.”

“There isn’t a 'the end'?” Y/N’s voice questions lightly as Spencer cries too hard to even respond.

She was the most amazing child in the whole world and he didn’t know what he did to deserve her. He wrapped her up in his arms and held her so tight she was smacking his arm to let her go with a laugh, “I want to add more to it when I’m older, like GG’s book.”

“You can write one for all your sisters,” Y/N smiles at her softly, “you know, gg only wrote Amoreena because you came to her in a dream?”

She nodded, “that’s why I started writing this book for dad because I had a dream about him reading to all of us, he was so old it was funny.”

“How old?” He asks, remembering his reflection from his own dream.

“Like poppy, you had a white beard!”

“What did we talk about?” He doesn’t know why he wants to know so badly but he’s desperate to know if their dream was the same.

“It was story day, you and mom were late, but you said, ‘I’d never miss a Saturday with my little women,’” she smiles, “I’m so glad you’re my dad.”

She holds him back just as tight this time, snuggling into his chest as he breathes her in. His first little baby, even if she was the middle kid now, she was his baby, he couldn’t even imagine holding someone even smaller than her soon.

—

They take a quick trip to target in the morning, needing to get some things for Jo and Y/N really, really wanted chocolate-covered cranberries, making sure he knew that she would kill him if he didn’t bring them back to her. Finally having those pregnancy mood swings he was expecting.

Jo is quick to pick out some summer clothes and a bathing suit for the day as well as toiletries and anything else she wanted because Spencer said so. He was going to spoil her because he didn’t know what else to do. This is what he wanted from his dad, someone to see something, think of him and just get it to make him smile.

She saw some purple bedding that she liked, so it ended up in the cart. And then she needed some new pillow, and some fitted sheets… oh and those curtains are nice… and before they knew it they had $300 worth of things for her bedroom in the back of Y/N’s car.

Jo pressed her lips together awkwardly as they sat in the front seats of the car, he looked over at her and smiled, making her laugh, “this is the best father’s day.”

“I’m supposed to be getting you gifts today!”

“You are a gift, Jo,” he doesn’t mean to get sappy, but he can’t help the love he feels for her already.

“Drive before I cry, dude,” she turns to look out the window. “Are we going to have a 'ground rules and behaviour' speech like all the foster parents do? I have a feeling you have no idea what you’re doing.”

He starts the car then, pulling out of the lot and starting the 40-minute car ride back with her, “how do they normally set the rules in the foster homes?”

“They pay for my phone bill with the money provided for me each month and they sometimes get me the groceries I want for lunches and stuff but they mostly kept the money for themselves. I’m only allowed on the internet for an hour a day, homework has to be done in front of their eyes at the kitchen table, no food after 7 pm, lights off and no walking around by 9,” she gave the rundown and it made Spencer’s stomach turn.

“I will pay for your phone bill, you don't need to worry about that. We can even get you a new one when we get home. Y/N has great internet and every streaming service available, you don’t have a time limit here. Just promise me you’ll go outside sometimes?” He reaches a hand out to hold her’s while driving, letting her know he means what is coming next.

“I trust you have a way of life you’re used to, and I’m not going to change that on you, if you want to share things with me and be open and honest, I’m always here and I will never judge you. I don’t want you to ever feel like you need to hide things from me. And that being said, I trust you enough to use the internet safely, and not hack anything without good reason anymore?”

Derek was right, it’s surprisingly easy to be a dad. All you have to do is love them and be there for them.

“Okay, then I think you should know,” she takes a deep breath and a pause. “I’m pretty sure I like girls too, I never got to tell my mom that but I’m sure she knew, and I’m kind of scared to put my bathing suit on when I get home.”

“First of all, I’m proud of you,” he squeezes her hand 3 times, and she does it right back with a smile. “Secondly, why? Did you not get one you liked? I was fine buying any of them for you.”

“I have a lot of scars on my legs, and I don’t want to scare Amoreena,” she’s really ashamed of herself and Spencer understands it.

He rolls his sleeve up and extends his arm for her to see his very faded track marks, “I was drugged on a case once, I had an addiction after. The scars fade over time, but I also haven’t shown Amoreena my bare arms yet.”

“Mine are pretty faded now too, it’s been a few months, they look more like stretch marks,” she smiled at his honesty, feeling safer with him.

“If she asks, you can say it was from a cat at the foster home. She’ll think about Cinderella and the evil stepmother's cat, and then completely forget why she asked,” he assures her, knowing Amoreena like the back of his hand now.

“Lucifer,” Jo smiles, “I was like her as a kid too, always making up stories and finding new movies to be obsessed with. I have ADHD, by the way, but I’m un-medicated cause my last foster home didn’t listen to the school’s diagnosis,” she says it like it’s not a big deal.

His blood starts to boil at the thought of someone not taking care of her, “excuse me?”

“Yeah, and when I asked for a therapist they said no to that too, I was ‘fine’ apparently and they settled for a dead parents support group so that Colin could have a coffee while I sat there,” she’s oblivious to how terrible it is.

“Make me a list of all the things you want, I mean everything down to the most niche interest or therapy technique that you’ve researched and I will help you with whatever it is,” Spencer is furious at the conditioning she’s experienced to think this is okay.

“You don’t have to, dad, I’m okay now,” she lies and he can tell.

“You don’t have to be, believe me, I cry almost every night to Y/N about things I thought I had recovered from. If you want to talk to someone because you think it will help, or if you want medicine because you feel like it’ll help you focus better or just be happier, I’m here to help you get that.”

She goes quiet, staring at their hands where he’s still squeezing her palm. She rubs her thumb along the skin softly, “did your mom ever hurt you?”

“Only when she wasn’t really there in her own mind,” he presses his lips together right after, he’s never told anyone about it.

“Did your dad?”

“Emotionally, but he wasn’t there long enough to lay a hand on me.”

She nods at the response, “my dad was evil, I think he killed my mom in that ‘accident’, but on purpose.”

“I thought my dad was a murderer once too, but it was actually my dad’s friend,” he isn’t sure why he’s telling her everything, but she deserved to know.

“There was a pedophile in our town who killed this boy, Riley, and my mom told him about a man who was watching me like I was next. And Riley’s dad killed him, but I was so young my mind tried to think it was my dad who did it all.”

“Your old job must have really messed you up inside too, huh?” She tries to laugh it off, scared of his past but intrigued at the same time, he just nods at her observation.

“I have a friend, her name is Penelope, her parents died when she was a little bit older than you. She snuck out and they went to look for her, and they were in a car crash,” he makes sure she’s comfortable, her hand is still in his and her thumb is still moving over his skin.

“Like you, she got into hacking, the FBI had to hire her because she was so good she became a threat, you’d really like her,” he says, turning to look at her quickly, he loves the smile on her face.

“I’d love to meet her,” she smiled, “thank you, I wish you could have always been my dad.”

It breaks his heart a little, “well, you have me forever now.”

—

“Two questions,” Y/N’s voice approaches as she walks towards the trunk of her car.

Jo and Spencer are digging through all the shopping bags trying to find all the things that she needs for the afternoon, leaving the rest for the ride home.

“Here,” Spencer hands her the chocolate-covered cranberries, “king-sized bag.”

“I love you,” she smiles as she takes it, “the second question, how are the suitcases going to fit in there now? We have two kids to bring home, they’re going to be squished.”

“I don’t mind,” Jo smiles, “one time they didn’t have room for me in a car so I sat in the trunk for 15 minutes.”

Spencer wrapped her up in his arms, “every time you tell me a story about what has happened to you, I want to kill someone.”

She laughs, holding him back gently, “believe me, I was an asshole to them, they got what they deserved.”

“What did you do?” Y/N worries about what she’s capable of, Spencer can tell.

“I called the tax people and said they have been claiming foster kids as dependents and now they might have tax fraud charges coming their way,” she seemed very proud of herself. “I would never hurt someone, but I have no problem getting them in trouble.”

Y/N extended her fist, bumping it off Jo’s with a smile, “as you should! Now, come on, let’s go get ready for the beach.”

Jo skipped inside with Y/N, their arms linked as they did so. Spencer couldn’t believe this was his life now. He closed the trunk with a slam, picking up the bag of things he set aside before joining them inside.

“Surprise!!!!” Amoreena screamed as soon as he walked through the door.

There was a hand-drawn Happy Father’s Day banner hanging from the staircase and purple balloons all over the place.

“Happy father’s day!!!” They all cheered for him, even Taylor’s mom was there now, smiling at the display of affection.

Amoreena and Jo came running up to him, wrapping their arms around him and holding him close, nothing felt real. “Can you pinch me?” He asked them with a small smile.

He didn’t think they’d do it, but even Y/N walked over and started pinching him all over. Amoreena pinched his leg, Jo pinched his belly button and Y/N, she pinched his cute little butt as she pressed a kiss to his blushing cheek. “You’re very real, so are we.”

“I love you guys,” Spencer reminds them, holding them all as close as he can for just a moment, “okay, enough sappiness, let’s go to the beach!”

Amoreena and Y/N are already in their swimsuits under their sundresses, Jo, on the other hand, picked out some trunks and a tank-style swim top, hiding her scares just enough that she felt comfortable getting in the sand and building a castle with Amoreena.

Y/N laid on the towel beside Spencer in the shade, Taylor and her mom were playing scrabble on the picnic table, her dad was cooking up burgers on the grill. It was serene, it was perfect, they were a little family and it made absolutely no sense to him how it all worked out so well, but he wouldn’t change any of it.

“Look how big it is after lunch,” Y/N grabbed his attention, sticking her belly out as far as it could go, “I’m going to get so huge again, at least this time I’ll be the biggest when it’s cold out.”

“Are you comfortable? Do you need more sunscreen or water?” Spencer worried, making her smile as she pushed her sunglasses up and turned to him.

“I am fantastic, thank you, cutie.”

He leans in to kiss her gently, but she wraps her arms around him and pulls him down on top of her. Kissing him like she just rescued him from the sea and hasn’t seen him for years.

When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t go far. Just sitting up as he brushes her hair off her face, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she reminds him with another soft smile.

“I missed mother’s day with you by only a few days, but you should know you’re the best mother in the whole world,” he whispered, wanting to share his day with her because, without her, he wouldn’t be a father.

She pulls him into another kiss, hands resting on his cheeks as she breathes in deeply through her nose. It’s like she’s taking the soul out of his body, he's a part of her now forever and always. He never wants to be anywhere else.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129

[wordsforthesoul]

New York Hustle // Chapter Eight

I take a look at the clock, 6:27. I get more nervous than before, I hate feeling this way, usually, I’m calmer when it comes to boys. Something about Nero is different, I’m not really sure if it’s a good thing or not, and if I’m being honest I don’t know if I wanna find out. The doorbell rings, I run to the intercom and press the button with the little speaker on it. “Hello?”, I ask with a shaky voice. “Hey it’s Nero.”, comes the response from the other side. “I’ll be right down.”, I grab my purse and put my phone and my keys inside of it. With one last deep breath and a look in the mirror, I open the front door and walk down the stairs. When I open the main door I see Nero leaning against a Dodge, the drug dealing business must go very well. Nero looks at me, smiles, and starts to walk toward me. “Hey Scofield.”, he says and laughs. “Hey Turner.”, I say and laugh too, and before I can stress about how I should say hello he leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “Ready for the game?”, Nero asks and holds open the door of his car. I really try not to blush this time, I don’t know if it’s working. I get into the car and thank him for holding the door. “By the way.”, Nero says as he closes the door behind him. “Do you even like basketball?”, he asks with a chuckle. “Yeah I do.”, Nero looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Well that’s new.”, he says and chuckles again. “But it’s good.”, he adds a soft smile at the end. “I have one question though.”, I say. “Are those the same friends from the bar?” “Yes, why?”, Nero says and turns left. “Oh nothing, they just didn’t seem like they like me that much.”, I say thinking back to how annoyed that Fynn guy was. “Don’t worry, you met them on a bad day. You’re gonna like them, and when they really meet you they’ll like you as well. Besides they were pissed at me, not at you.”, it’s true if I think about it. I hope they’re as chill as Nero. We drive a little longer and talk about basketball, when we drive over the Kennedy bridge I get the feeling I know where he lives. It would fit him and his drug dealer thing. “Where do you live, by the way?”, I ask to find out if I was right. “East Harlem.”, Nero says and looks over to me. I bet he’s trying to figure out if I’m panicking or some shit. I don’t get why people think I’d think less of them because of where they live. And yes east Harlem isn’t the safest place in New York but it’s no different from where I grew up. “Don’t look at me like that.”, I say with a small laugh. “I grew up in the Bronx, I know how it is.” “You grew up in the Bronx?”, Nero asks surprised. “Wow, you gangster too.”; I laugh at his answer. “‘course I am.”, I say slightly shaking my head. “My friends gonna like you, for sure.”, Nero says with a smile. Not long after that Nero pulls over into a parking lot. He turns to look at me. “That’s the one.”, he says and points to a dirty, three-floor building. “You ready?”, Nero asks. I smile and nod at him. We get out of the car and walk over to the building. “Are your parents home?”, I ask while Nero unlocks the door. He stops and looks at me for a second then he focuses back on the door. “I live alone.”, he answers quietly. “Well actually not alone, with Fynn together.”, I take a good look at him before I say anything. It doesn’t seem like he’s on great terms with his parents. “I’m sorry.”, I say as we walk up the stairs. “For what?.”, Nero asks and turns around with a smile. “I don’t know exactly, but I can tell you’re not good with your parents.”, I say hoping not to cross the line. “Well you’re right, but let’s talk about that some other time okay?”, Nero says with an apologizing look on his face. I appreciate it so much that he’s trying to be nice about a clearly uncomfortable subject. I always get annoyed when someone, I don’t know well, wants to talk about my parents. It’s none of their business. “Yeah okay no problem.”, I say and touch his arm. He follows my hand with his eyes and then looks at me with something between a smirk and a smile on his face. When we come to a halt in front of a door on the second floor, Nero turns around to face me one more time. “One thing about them, they’re very loud and can be a lot for someone, so if at any time you don’t feel comfortable, you gonna tell me and I will tell these fuckers to cut it out, okay?”, Nero says with a smile. I laugh at him. “I think I’ll be okay.”; I say still laughing. Nero turns the doorknob around and all I can think about how dangerous it is to leave the door unlocked when you live in East Harlem. When the door is fully open I can see four guys. I recognize Fynn from the bar and I believe the boy with the light brown hair was there too. Currently, they are putting bowls filled with snacks on a coffee table. “Guys I’m back.”, Nero says and closes the door behind me. He puts a hand on my back and lightly pushes me towards the group. “This is Bella.”, he says, his hand still on my back. The boys smile at me and say hello. “This is Isaac.”, Nero points to a boy who is, compared to the others, shorter with brown hair, he’s the same I saw in the bar with the back facing toward me. “You know Fynn.”, he says and moves his finger to the boy who stands the closest to us. “And those are Chase and Jayden. They are twins.” “You don’t say.”, I say sarcastically. The boys start to laugh and I immediately feel comfortable. “Don’t worry if you can’t tell us apart at first.”, Chase says friendly and smiles. I get where he’s coming from, they do look freakishly alike. Both have dark skin and short curly hair. On top of that, they wear the same clothes. But when I look closely I can see that Jayden’s eyes are a little bigger than Chases. “I’ll be fine.”, I say with a smile. I don’t tell them that I found a difference in their looks, twins don’t like to hear that. I don’t like to hear that as well, even though my twin is a boy. “The game starts in ten minutes.”, Fynn lets us know. “Bella do you even know how basketball works?”, Fynn asks with a laugh. When he grabs the beer that stands on the table, I notice that he wears a wristband with the New York Knicks logo on it. “Seems like I’m better informed than you, if you are a Knicks fan.”, I say with a smirk and cross my arms in front of my chest. All of the other boys try to hold back a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, Fynn says with a smile and sparks in his eyes. “It means that the Knicks suck.”, Fynn gasps as soon as the word leaves my mouth. “Take that back.”, he says and with a wide-open mouth and eyes. The other guys just laugh at the little fight we’re having. “Oh please have you seen the Stats, and they didn’t even win one game.” “They won against the Bulls.”, he says pointing his finger at me. “Oh damn, one game, congratulations.”, I say and laugh. “You know what, we will see what’ll happen tonight.”, Fynn says and sits down on the couch. “You will see, I already know what’s gonna happen. The Nets are gonna win, the Knicks will lose.”, I say sure. Nero walks past me into the kitchen area opens a fridge and grabs two beers. “Okay if you continue fighting we will miss the game and never know which is the better team.”, Isaac says. “Bella, you can sit wherever you want.” Nero hands me one of the two bottles and smiles at me and walks past me, to sit down on the couch. I follow him suit and sit next to him. The game starts but I keep losing focus because of the guy next to me who looks at me almost every two seconds. When Nero and I make eye contact he smiles at me and winks. This time I don’t blush but I smile back at him and turn to look at the TV, which by the way is a very expensive one. I’m not sure how he can afford all of that, I mean he does live together with Fynn, but I don’t think he has more money than Nero. Dealing with drugs won’t get you the kind of money to pay for an apartment in New York, a Dodge, the designer clothes Nero is wearing, and all the luxuries such as the TV. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”, Nero whispers and leans down so only I can hear him. The other boys are so loud though, it wouldn’t matter if he spoke at a normal volume. I look at him and smile. “Nothing.”, I say still smiling. Nero just stares at me and then shakes his head. “Not true.”, he’s good. I don’t like that. “Let’s just focus on the game and watch Fynn’s team lose.”, Nero laughs at me and turns back to the game. As it gets later, the empty beer bottles almost fall off of the coffee table and the game slowly comes to an end, we all came closer and forget we all have been strangers just a few hours earlier.   “You know what Irving!”, Fynn yells. “Fuck you! Without you, the Nets would be screwed.”, I sit on the floor, my back leaning against the couch, and watch Fynn explode out of anger. I can’t help and laugh. “You shut up!”, he says and points at me. “Yo, leave her alone.”, Nero says laughing. “Just because the Knicks suck, you have no right blaming her.”, Fynn looks Nero devastated in the eyes. “How can you say that.”, Fynn asks and acts like he’s about to cry. “You’re a New Yorker.” “Yeah, that’s why I’m for the Nets.”, he says and laughs, so does everyone in the room, well...except Fynn. Kyrie Irving does the final throw and the game is over. New York Knicks lost 109 to 113 against the Brooklyn Nets.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Stories of Our Lives - Chapter 12

A/N: Here's the next chapter!! 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

August 3, 2019

Six weeks after they said "I Do" Louis was ramped up for rehearsals and promotions for the tour. Two weeks after that, he hopped on a tour bus and left Gia at home. And now three weeks after seeing her husband, she missed him, plain and simple. Yes they talked on the phone and skyped but that was completely different from being by his side, his hands in hers, and his hugs, god she missed his hugs. 

Super secret conversations were had and plans made, a little white lie was told before she found herself on a plane to Madrid. Scarlett, Tricia and Mollie were all on tour; Tricia being the band's photographer and Scarlett being part of their wardrobe crew. Both women tried to convince Gia to come out on the road but she had to finish up some last minute things before agreeing. 

Arriving in humid Madrid, Gia smiled the first real smile she had in awhile. The prospect of seeing her husband for the first time in three weeks was simple too much for Gia to handle right now. 

"Well hello stranger!" Tricia smiled, watching Gia's hand fly to her chest in fright. "Welcome to the tour."

Gia threw her arms around her best friend grinning brightly. "Oh my gosh it's so good to see you. I've missed you."

"You as well. Finally threw responsibility away and came to play with us." Tricia grabbed one of her suitcases, leaving the other and her carry-on with Gia. 

Shrugging, Gia followed Tricia behind her. "Something like that."

"Does Louis know you're coming?" 

Shaking her head, Gia's grin was too much. "Nope. Planning on surprising him."

Throwing the suitcases in the boot, Gia and Tricia climbed in the backseat with Paul driving. "Oh no here's trouble!"

"Hey you should be excited I'm here. I'm going to keep Louis in line." Gia defended causing the older man to chuckle. 

He nodded. "He's been a little out of hand lately."

"He's like a kid in a candy shop while on tour." Tricia spoke, Gia quickly agreeing. 

Watching the city pass, Gia took a deep breath. "What are the boys up to? And where's Mollie?"

"They have a day off. Louis was talking about sleeping the day away." Tricia smiled. "Niall and Harry took her to the zoo."

Paul looked at the girls. "So what's the plan for surprising Louis?"

"Not sure. Thinking about winging it."

He chuckled. "That's not going to end well."

"Hey! I will be on my best behavior." Gia grinned. "Though I can't promise the same for Lou."

Reaching in her bag, she grabbed her mobile, turning it on. The car grew quiet each lost in their thoughts. Her mobile buzzed and vibrated in her hand. "Lou's blowing up your phone?"

"Yea he's worried. Jay texted that he called her worried - she told him I had a spa day and I had to turn off my mobile." Gia smirked. "Love my mother-in-law." 

Tricia laughed. "That's classic. I'll have to remember that one for future use."

Pulling up to the hotel, Paul escorted them in promising Gia to get her bags to her. Tricia said her goodbyes, leaving Gia in the lobby. Sitting in a comfy chair, Gia tried to figure out how she was going to let Louis know she was there. Her mobile rang interrupting her thoughts. 

"Hello?"

Louis chuckled on the other end. "Well hello there. Are you nice and relaxed from your spa day?"

"Yes I am. Sorry it slipped my mind to tell you." Twirling a piece of hair in her finger, Gia grinned. "What are you up to today?"

She heard him sigh. "Not sure. Niall and Harry took the Mollie to the zoo while everyone else is just hanging out. Who knows what Liam's up to - maybe him and I will do lunch or something. What are you up to?"

"Socks and I are hanging out in the garden. He's trying to hunt the birds while I'm catching up on some reading, missing you of course." Gia laughed. 

He groaned. "I know baby. I miss you too. Two more weeks and I'll be back in London seeing your pretty face."

"Way too long Tomlinson." She scolded him lightly. "We need to have a limit from now on."

He laughed. "What? Two days?"

"If I'd have my way that's what it'll be." She giggled. "Hey someone's at the door. Let me let you go and I'll call you later. I love you."

He sighed. "Love you too. Give Socks a kiss for me. Talk to you later. Love you lots Damsel."

Hanging up the phone, she smiled at the young fans across the lobby. Two girls cautiously came closer both excited. "Are you Gia?"

"I am. What are your names?" 

The older of the two grinned brightly. "I'm Kennedy and I'm 8 and this is my sister Becca and she's 4. You're pretty."

"Thank you so are you girls. Do you want a picture?" Gia crouched down smiling as the girls' mother came closer. 

"I'm sorry if they're bothering you." The young woman smiled at Gia while she shook her head. 

Gia smiled. "No they're not bothering. I'll take a picture with them if they want."

"Yes!" Kennedy jumped a bit causing Gia to laugh. 

Kneeling between the two girls, Gia smiled as their mother snapped the photo. "The only thing I ask is that you wait to post that until later tonight. I'm surprising Louis and he doesn't know I'm here yet."

"That's so romantic." The mother gushed, Gia grinning brightly. 

She talked with the girls and their mum for a few more minutes before heading to the elevators. Sending a text to Tricia asking for Louis' room number, she pressed the 15th floor once inside. Tapping her foot lightly, she took the last few minutes to herself. She was a little nervous to see Louis and actually be with him for more than a few hours. 

Stopping in front of his door, she took a deep breath. But before she could knock, a door to her left was opened as Scarlett walked into the hallway. She shushed her before she could spoil the surprise. 

"What are you doing here?" Scarlett hugged her tightly. 

Gia chuckled at her friend. "Surprising my miserable husband."

"When did you get in?"

Looking at her mobile, she shrugged. "Like an hour ago. I've been in cahoots with Tricia and Paul."

"Nice. Will you and Lou be at dinner?" Scarlett asked raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

"Go surprise our boy. We'll see you later." Scarlett walked away leaving Gia standing at Louis' door. 

Raising her hand, she knocked hearing Louis grumble about having to get up. "Tricia your husband isn't here. Liam, if this is you I'm gonna - " 

Gia grinned as he ripped open the door. "You're gonna what?" 

"Gia!" She was pulled into his arms, the door slamming behind them. "What are you doing here?"

His question went unanswered as she placed her lips on his. They had a nice little make out session until a knock on the door interrupted them. "What?"

"Open up Tomlinson I come bearing gifts." Paul yelled pounding on the door. 

Sighing, Louis opened the door allowing Paul to drop Gia's luggage off. "I see you received your surprise."

"I did. Did you have a hand in her surprising me?" Louis brightened up a bit. 

Paul shook his head. "Nope she was in cahoots with Tricia who told me we had to go to the airport today, said a surprise was being delivered."

"Thank you for bringing that up here." Gia grinned motioning to the suitcases. 

Paul grinned. "Not a problem. If you two go out, let me know. Dinner is at 6 tonight."

"Sounds good. I think we might hang out here but we'll see you later for dinner." Louis said, Paul saying his goodbyes leaving the two alone. 

Louis faced his wife with a grin. "Not that I'm not thrilled you're here but what happened to the packed schedule you had at the base?"

"Well .... That was a little white lie." Gia bit on her lip with a smile. 

Louis cocked a brow. "What aren't you telling me?"

Gia went to sit on the bed, patting the space beside her. "Come sit before I tell you."

"Uh oh this can't be good." Louis took her hand in his. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Gia took a deep breath. "As of yesterday, I'm unemployed. I resigned my position at the base completely."

"What? Why? You loved your job and the last thing I ever wanted was for you to give it up." Louis' eyes went wide. "Gia you didn't have to give up everything you've worked for."

Gia stood, walking to her suitcase to retrieve a box. "Well my duties were going to change significantly because of some news I received so I decided just to resign while I was ahead of everything."

"What news?" Louis started panicking with how calm she was acting. "You're freaking me out Giovanna." 

Handing him the box, she took her place next to him on the bed. "Go ahead and open that." 

Slipping the thick yellow ribbon off the box, Louis carefully opened the lid, tossing it aside. Moving the tissue paper aside, he looked at his wife with wide eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yes, daddy."

Looking between the yellow sleeper in the box and his wife, Louis felt tears cloud his eyes. "You're pregnant?"

"I am. Eleven weeks along." Gia grabbed his hand and place it on her still flat stomach. "Apparently your little swimmers were bound and determined the night of our wedding."

He laughed, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Is everything alright?"

Picking up the sleeper, she grabbed the sonogram photos from underneath handing them to Louis. "Your son or daughter is doing just well. He or she is the size of a fig. The doctor says everything looks great."

"When are you due? How did you find out you were pregnant?" Louis couldn't take his eyes off the photos. “How are you feeling? Should you even be traveling? Should you be sitting?” 

Gia laughed. "Breathe babe. Due date is January 22. I was throwing up constantly for two weeks, feeling better after I was done. For the hell of it I did a pregnancy test and it came back positive, went to the doctors after that."

"Who else knows?" Louis tore his eyes off looking at Gia's watery smile. 

Leaning forward to kiss him, she smiled brightly. "You and me and no one else. We do need to tell people soon."

"My mum and sisters, your parents and siblings. We can tell the boys tonight if you want." Louis stopped looking wide eyed at her. "What are we going to do?"

Gia looked her her husband with concern. "What do you mean?"

"Are you going home after this or are you sticking around?" Louis placed his hand on her stomach. "I'm going to be really selfish here and say that I don't want to miss a second of this pregnancy but with the tour it's not feasible to be there every second."

Kissing him, those words were exactly what Gia needed to hear. Tears slipped down her face, Louis pulling her into his chest. "Hey, hey what's wrong?" 

"You are the most perfect man Louis Tomlinson." She sniffled. "That's exactly what I needed to hear. I was so worried about how you would take the news - not that you wouldn't be happy but the fact that we've only been married for 11 weeks and five of those have been separated."

"Babe, yes timing is difficult at the moment, but you're pregnant and I couldn't be happier." Louis wiped her tears away kissing her forehead. "So what's the plan?"

Taking a shaky breath, Gia squeezed his hand. "I talked to the doctor and she said it would be okay to travel with you through my seventh month - November. Then she doesn't want me leaving London. She told me when she wants me in for appointments and has recommended doctors along the way to visit."

"So you're staying with us on tour?" 

Gia nodded. "If you'll have me. The doctor warned me to take it easy as much as possible. She said I'll become more tired as I progress and to take full advantage of naps." 

"Giovanna Maria Tomlinson you've made me the happiest man ever. I love you, Italia." 

She laughed. "Hey it takes two to tango Pooks. And I love you too."

The two spent the afternoon skyping with their families delivering the news. Both mothers had cried while Louis' siblings were excited to be aunts. Ava screeched and cried when Gia told her. Tony was excited to be grandpa. Her brothers cracked jokes of Louis not being able to resist knocking her up. Everyone was very excited and told Gia to let them know if she needed anything. 

After delivering the news to their families, the two brainstormed of how to tell their friends. Gia wrapped in Louis' arms yawned sleepily as he rambled on. He smiled seeing her fast asleep, her cheek nuzzled against his chest. 

Caressing her flat tummy, he cleared his throat, whispering to his unborn child. "Hi peanut, I'm your daddy. Your mum and I are so excited you're on your way. Your mummy is the best person I know and I'm happy she's the one that's going on this crazy journey with me. You will have to be patient with us as this is our first time."

Gia shifted slightly, causing Louis to pause in his speech. "Anyways, I promise that I'll always be there for you no matter what. I'll take you to the park, teach you the fine art of football, and support you no matter what. I want you to try everything once and if you want to do something other than footie then that'll be all right."

"Honestly I just want you to be happy and healthy. Everything else is just icing on the cake. I may not have the easiest job but that's never going to keep me from loving, protecting and taking care of you. You're my little man or princess and I will always be there for you no matter what."

He felt tears on his chest. Looking down at Gia, he saw her teary eyes on his. "Awe Damsel why are you crying?"

"Because you're being so sweet." She sniffled wiping the tears away. "You're already talking to the baby."

Louis nuzzled her closer to his side, kissing her forehead. "Since you were obviously eavesdropping, I promise I'm always going to be there for you and our many children. But I need to you tell me when it becomes too much. There may come a time where I'm gone too much or you feel like you're doing it all, I need to you tell me to walk away from it all. Can you do that?"

"But you love it so much." She whispered. 

Looking into her eyes, his hand cupped her cheek. "But you and our children are more important than my career. I've had a great run and things can only get better as we add to our brood but if you feel like I'm never around you need to tell me. Okay?"

"Okay." She leaned up and kissed him sealing her promise to him. 

Looking at the clock, Gia groaned seeing it 4:30 all ready. "I need a shower."

"Want some company?" Louis raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively. 

Smacking his shoulder, Gia laughed. "Nope! You're a dirty boy."

"Then I guess I need a girl to help me get clean." Louis mused. "I'm sure there is plenty of girls around that would be willing to help."

Gia's eyes went wide looking at her husband. "Not a chance in hell bubs. Let's go!"

Leaving a trail of her clothes on the way to the bathroom definitely peaked Louis' interest. Chuckling he followed her into the bathroom where they both got squeaky clean. 

6:00pm

The two held hands as they walked into the conference room where dinner was being held that night. Paul and Preston were both there as well as the boys, Scarlett, Tricia, Mollie. 

"Look what the cat drug in! What are you doing here?" Liam hugged Gia with a grin, a surprised look on his face. 

Gia hugged him back with gusto. "I surprised Louis by flying out here. I'm joining you guys for a bit if you don't mind."

"Absolutely not. The more the merrier." Niall said, Louis and Gia trading glances with one another. Mollie galloped over to greet her auntie. Gia enthusiastically gave her a massive hug. 

Louis took a seat at the end by the boys as Gia sat next to Tricia. "So this afternoon I was inspired and wrote some songs.  Just pieces if you guys want to hear them later."

"Absolutely. What was your inspiration?" Harry asked with a smirk on his face. 

Louis slapped his arm, chuckling. "Dirty but no. Gia just surprising me in general." 

Gia meanwhile was talking to the girls grinning the entire time. "You haven't stopped smiling since I picked you up from the airport. What gives?"

"I'm just really happy and excited to be here. I'm just happy to be hanging out with you in this sunny, beautiful country instead of miserable England." Gia shook her head at Tricia.  

Scarlett pointed at Gia, a look of determination of her face. "No Tricia is onto something. Something is going on with you. Spill!"

"There's nothing going on. I had a great afternoon of sexing my husband up and now I'm excited for an evening of crazy shenanigans with you folk." Gia held her hands up in innocence.

Scarlett nodded unconvinced. "You're hiding something Giovanna and we will figure it out."

"Uh huh and I wish you all the luck in the world." Gia rose her eyebrows in challenge. 

The rest of dinner went off without hitch. The boys had convinced Paul to clear the pool area so could go swimming without interruptions. Paul relented and before long the boys were cannonballing into the lukewarm water. 

"So Tommo what are these songs you were mentioning earlier?" Niall asked catching Mollie as she jumped into the pool. 

Louis smirked. "There's like four I've started but I'm stuck." 

"Well just start singing them and maybe we can help you." Harry suggested. 

Louis took a deep breath, glancing at Gia before clearing his throat. "Now pay attention - these took a while to come up with. You know you love me, I know you care, Just shout whenever, and I'll be there, You are my love, you are my heart, And we will never ever ever be apart."

"It's catchy." Harry nodded, bobbing his head to the beat.  

Niall snorted. "It's quite catchy because it's already a song. It's Bieber."

"Oh sorry. It's stuck in my head. Next song goes like this - When I'm not with you I lose my mind, Give me a sign, Hit me baby one more time."

Tricia hit Gia's arm with wide eyes, whispering. "No way! When? How? How far?"

"Yes way!" Gia hissed back turning to the men with a smirk. Danielle and Scarlett soon caught on to what Louis was trying to accomplish. 

Liam rolled his eyes. "Nice try. That's Britney. Seems you were a little too distracted by Gia this afternoon. Wanna try again pretty boy?"

"I swear I've got a hit here." Louis mused. "Last one. Havin' my baby. What a lovely way of sayin'. How much you love me."

Liam snorted. "That one is a song all ready! I think it's high time we admit Louis to an institution because he's officially lost it! Man do you not know what the words 'copyright' mean?"

"I think I'm pretty smart. Besides your wives and girlfriend figured it out pretty quickly, nincompoops." Louis smirked. 

Liam, Niall and Harry turned to their girls who simply smiled at them. "It's all up to you to figure it out. If you think about it, it's not that hard to figure out!" 

"Just because you were your class valedictorian doesn't mean the rest of us were that smart, sweetheart!" Niall drawled glancing at his wife. 

Liam's eyes lit up, grinning at his friend. "That's awesome mate. You must be over the moon."

"Uh huh. Can't stop smiling." Louis glances at Gia with a grin. "We are so excited."

Harry cleared his throat motioning between himself and Niall. "Ummm .... Still confused over here."

"I'm going to break it down for you very slowly." Scarlett drawled looking at the two men. "Think about what the three songs have in common with one another."

Niall tilted his head going over all the lyrics. "Wait, no really?"

"Wanna share with the class Nialler?" Louis smirked. 

Looking over at Gia, who merely nodded, Niall smirked. "Louis' gone and joined the daddy's club. All the songs have to do with baby."

Everyone looked to Gia and Louis for confirmation. The couple both grinned and nodded before the pool area erupted in cheers and excitement congratulations. Questions were thrown out as hugs were quickly exchanged. 

"When are you due?" Scarlett asked, Gia sitting on Louis' lap snuggled up to his chest. 

Gia smiled. "January 22. I had a scan two days ago and everything looks good. The doctor said I can travel up until November then I'm homebound."

"What about the base and your job?" Liam asked bouncing Mollie on his legs, her laughter causing everyone to smile. 

Louis kissed her forehead before she spoke. "I resigned. I was going to be placed behind a desk and not allowed anywhere near the bombers. I would've been miserable so I handed in my resignation yesterday. So currently I'm unemployed."

"So what's the next steps?" Tricia asked bouncing in Niall's lap excited at the possibilities. 

The couple laughed. "The plan is for me to travel with you guys for the next few months. Tour is done end of October so then we'll be home, decorate the nursery and prepare for peanut to arrive."

"Do you want to know what you're having and do your parents know?" Liam had Mollie wrapped up in his arms keeping the little girl from becoming too cold. 

Louis chuckled, remembering how his mum and sisters reacted. "Our families found out this afternoon and they're beyond excited. Gia and I talked and I think we want to find out what we're having. Our lives are so out of our control so this will be nice to have so be can at least prepare for his or her arrival."

"I remember thinking that when I was pregnant." Tricia sighed looking at her little girl. "But there's no way to prepare for every little thing."

Gia yawned, nodding at Tricia’s remark. "That's why I have you in my corner."  

"To Louis and Gia two of the best people to become parents. You both will be amazing." Harry raised his beer toasting his best friend and his wife. 

"Here here."

And the rest of the night the guys gave Louis tips on what not to do with a baby (forgetting the fact he has five sisters and a brother) while the girls spoke of names and how to decorate the nursery.

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The Recruit (Chapter 2) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 2″

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley & Reader/OFC

Warnings: Some violence, sort of, and slow burn..

Author’s Note: I have been quietly sitting back and reading basically every bit of fan fiction for a few weeks now that I can find pertaining to Teen Wolf/Stiles/DOB/Mitch Rapp, and I finally decided to throw my hat into the ring. I get so much joy from everyone else’s work and I just really hope you can all get the same out of this.

Summary: Mitch’s fiancee, Katrina, was brutally murdered in a terrorist attack a year and a half ago. He had been hunting the perpetrators by himself for over a year, but finally came across the radar of Irene Kennedy, the Director of the CIA. She sends him to Stan Hurley to be properly trained at becoming a covert assassin on behalf of the American government. When he agreed to all of this, he never expected to meet Y/N.

Chapter Summary: Mitch begins his training with a lesson in tracking people. He ends up getting to know Y/N better and begins opening up himself.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

He pulled a pair of black, tinted safety goggles off the table and raised them over his eyes. Everyone at the gun range paused, and watched Mitch take an M16 semi-automatic rifle off the table behind him and begin checking and loading it, wanting to see what the new recruit had to offer in terms of marksmanship. 

You noticed a white cotton t-shirt sticking out slightly from under both ends of his dark gray, chunky sweater. You also noted him wearing a darker pair of jeans than the ones he had on yesterday, and then you realized that you were more focused on how his hair still looked good under his protective ear muffs, than what he was about to do with the high powered weapon in his hands. You heard the firearm go off in small spurts and watched as he hit dead on for his target, and the targets of the four guy’s next to him. The men murmured around the gun range, and then went back to their own shooting.

You picked up your Desert Eagle .50 Caliber Handgun and aimed it at his target, from seven rows away. He didn't notice where your gun was pointed, as he aimed a Glock at the head on his target sheet. Before he could press his finger against the trigger, his target sheet shook. He looked up and saw a new hole, square between the eyes. 

He looked behind him and saw Stan grinning and leaning against the equipment table, snickering and shaking his head. He leaned over the other way and saw you put down your gun and glasses on the table, and quickly raise your eyebrows at him, letting him know for sure, that it was you who shot his target.

"Can't ever let them get big heads, can you Y/N?" Stan said as you walked towards the exit. You shrugged nonchalantly, and Stan patted you on the back, as you walked out of target practice. Mitch went back to shooting until the exercise was over.

At lunch, Mitch glanced around the large dining room for an empty chair. He sat next to the two tall men, who he saw walking with you the day before. There was no sign of you however.

"Mitch, right?" The bulkier one asked, as he moved his food around his plate with his fork.

Mitch nodded and bit into his sandwich, quickly washing it down with the water in front of him.

"I'm Rob, this is Julian." The bulkier one said, as he gestured to the man sitting next to Mitch, who quietly nodded his head Mitch's way.

"What's up, man?" Julian said rhetorically. Mitch nodded back, not entirely interested in making friends or conversation.

"You really know your way around a gun, man." Rob commented, before popping a potato chip into his mouth.

"Thanks." Mitch replied, quickly glancing up from his plate.

"Not so much around Y/n though." Julian chuckled.

"Nah, don't listen to him. Y/n has literally done that to everyone in this room, myself included and I'm like triple her size." Rob was referring to her takedown of Mitch in The Circle the afternoon before. "She's been here for almost three years and she is damn fucking good at basically all hand-to-hand."

"And shooting, apparently." Mitch commented, thinking back to her display of dominance at the gun range that morning.

"Yea, she's a real fucking treasure." The guy next to Rob commented sarcastically.

"Shut the hell up, Dan." Rob defended his friend. The man that Rob referred to as Dan, raised his eyebrows, with a satisfied smirk and went back to eating his food.

"RAPP!" Stan yelled, his head sticking out of the door to his office.

"Seeya." Julian said aloud, letting Mitch know that he was to go immediately when Stan called.

Mitch nodded at the two men and went to off to his teacher. Stan stood next to his desk, glancing at his open laptop with a straight face, before he finally looked up to see Mitch, standing in front of him. "Why are you here, Rapp?"

"To get good enough to kill the Bahji terror cell and Mansur, Sir." Mitch answered, matter-of-factly.

"What for? Why do you care about Mansur?"

"For my fianceé.. for revenge." Mitch answered again.

Stan shook his head. "That kind of shit is going to get you killed, Rapp."

"I think it's what's keeping me alive, Sir."

"You think you're special?" Stan asked, as he turned his laptop around to show Mitch a picture of Katrina on his screen. Mitch looked up and glared at Stan. "Never, ever let it get personal." He lectured the young man in a condescending tone. "Do you understand, Rapp?"

"Yes, sir." Mitch replied, seething with hatred.

"We meet back in the woods in three hours at 1700 for tracking. Get the fuck out of my office." Stan closed his laptop and sat down in his chair.

Mitch left the office and walked straight out the front door. He marched angrily into the woods and punched the underside of his fist against a pine tree. He growled and punched against the tree again.

"You'll do more damage if you use your knuckles."

Mitch looked up, wondering where the voice he just heard was coming from. He finally saw you, leaning up against a tree in a not too far off distance, the same paperback book folded in half in your hand. He walked over and stood over you.

"To my knuckles or the tree?"

"Both, probably." You smirked at him, and Mitch couldn’t help but feel suddenly enthralled by the smile he had been so curious to see.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, trying not to let his emotions play on his face anymore than they already had.

You shook the book in your hand, and raised your eyebrows at him.

"Right, sorry to bother you." He nodded once, wondering what you were reading, but not feeling talkative enough to ask. He turned and began walking back to the house.

"No, stay... I'll go." You got up from the forest floor, dusted your jeans off, picked up your jacket and began walking away from Mitch.

He watched you, confused. "The Barn is the other way." He yelled after you.

"I know." You turned and flashed a smile so bright that it made the hair stand on his arms. You spun back around, hopping on the balls of your feet, and disappeared into the trees.

1700 hours rolled around and everyone was assembled where The Circle had taken place yesterday, except for you. Mitch noted your absence again, curious as to why you seemed to be exempt from certain things that felt mandatory for him and everyone else. 

Stan stood in front of the group of nineteen men, and spoke loudly, his booming voice echoing through the trees. "I've told you what you need to know about tracking a human, so... go find Y/n. She's in there with a bag full of the new keys to the front door. You can either retrieve them from her by 2100 hours and get to sleep in your own bed tonight, or you can not, and get them from me at 0900 tomorrow morning after target practice, and sleep out here tonight." Stan smirked as the group murmured to each other. He took note of Mitch already checking his surroundings.

Rob and Julian approached the new recruit, who was clutching a black, cable knit sweater in his hand, and looking off in the direction he saw you disappear into earlier in the day.

"Hey, Mitch, do you wanna come with Julian and I to find her? Work together and get back here sooner?" The six foot, six inches bulky man asked.

"I'm good." Mitch nodded, and pulled the sweater over his head, then went off into the woods on his own.

The sun was setting soon, and Mitch spotted a broken twig on the ground with the dimming light. He bent down and glanced at it, knowing where to go next. At 1745 hours, Mitch found you sitting cross legged on a tree stump, deep in the woods, reading your book with strained eyes, as the light lessened with each passing minute. You glanced up and shook your head with a smirk.

"I am somehow not surprised." You said quietly.

"What are you reading?" He finally asked, ignoring your comment and nodding at your book.

"Casino Royale..." You narrowed your eyes at him, the serious look returning to your face.

Mitch raised an eyebrow at you and you broke into a smirk once more. "You're reading James Bond at a CIA black ops training camp?"

You chuckled, and smiled. "Of course not. I'm fucking with you." You unfolded your book, your pointer finger holding your page, and showed him the blue and yellow artwork.

"The Great Gatsby.." Mitch recognized the cover.

"For the hundreth time."

"I've never read it." He confessed, still standing over you, staring down.

"That's a shame. It's a...." You stopped talking and looked off into the woods to your right. You heard a voice and snapped your focus back to Mitch. "Take your sweater off."

"What?" Mitch looked confused.

"Take it off, take it off." You stood on the stump, revealing a Ziplock bag of keys behind where you were sitting. Mitch pulled the sweater over his head and you snatched it out of his hands. You shoved your book against his chest, and he held it where his sweater had once been. He watched as you wrapped the bag of metal keys in the sweater, then took off your own jacket and wrapped that around Mitch's sweater. You were wearing black high waisted jeans and a black thermal that clung to your body in all of the right places.

"What are you doing?" Mitch said in his normal speaking voice, before catching a glare from you.

You spoke in more hushed tones. "Being tracked." You tucked the fabric wrapped keys under your arm and took off running. Your nimble feet making little to no noise at all. He couldn't hear the keys jingling together either. You had cleverly soundproofed them. You turned around, and looked at Mitch. "Are you coming?"

Mitch nodded and took off after you. Every few yards, you would pause and cover your tracks, or have Mitch stand still as you backtracked, creating a divergent, decoy path, then slowly making your way back to him. You both had been running for twenty minutes straight before you stopped and looked up. 

You unwrapped the keys and tucked them in your back pocket, a few finally jingling as you handled them. You tied Mitch's sweater around your waist, then slipped your arms through your jacket. He watched as you began scaling the tree in front of you with minimal effort. He watched your foot and hand placements and followed up after you, tucking your book in the waistband of his pants. More than half way up the trunk of the tree, Mitch lost his footing and almost fell. You reached down, grabbed his hand and helped to pull him up onto the high branch that you were perched on.

You stood on the questionably stable branch, untied Mitch's sweater, handed it to him, and finally pulled the keys out of your back pocket. You then sat with your knees pressed against your chest. "Sorry about that." He pulled the sweater back over his head, and watched as you shoved the bag of keys in your jacket pocket. "Don't let your legs dangle.. the whites on the bottoms of your shoes are a pretty good giveaway.” You said, as you glanced at his green and white Adidas.

Mitch smirked at you. "You're wearing a pink windbreaker." He didn't understand how his shoes were more of a giveaway.

"Yea, but I'm really good at this." You replied smugly, remaining nonchalant about the situation.

"Why did you run?"

"I didn't want them to find me yet." You whispered, looking off into the distance of the forest for anyone that could be approaching. It was 1830 hours, it had gotten dark and the temperature had begun to drop.

"But I found.." 

You leaned forward and pressed your fingers against his lips. You lost your focus as you felt his warm breath against your skin, and you began to tip off the branch. Mitch caught your wrist and kept you from falling. He began to hear the sound of crunching leaves beneath feet, as well. He pulled you close, tearing the pink coat off your body, placing it in a ball in his lap and pulling you against his body. He wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed his pale face into your hair. You both suddenly disappeared, in your black clothing, into the dark night. A man who Mitch recognized as Dan, the guy from lunch earlier, and three other men, walked carelessly with flashlights checking their surroundings, but not thinking to look up into the tree.

You breathed heavily into Mitch's chest as the men walked past the tree. You both listened as the footsteps grew fainter, as they got farther into the distance. You shivered when Mitch unwrapped his strong arms from around your body. He pulled the jacket out from between you, and draped it over your shoulders.

"That was good thinking.." You commented quietly.

"It helped that we were both wearing black." Mitch replied with a shrug. He glanced down at his watch. It was only 1900 hours, and you had two more hours out here before you could return to the house.

"We should keep moving. I'm clearly a sitting target with this coat." You dropped the coat with the keys in the pocket onto the ground, wrapped your arms around the branch, and dropped your body over the side, hanging off the tree until you felt comfortable enough to jump the short distance. You landed on the ground with a grunt, and Mitch followed suit.

"Why'd we run and hide from Dan and his friends?" Mitch asked quietly as you both continued through the expansive woods.

"It's not supposed to be easy to find me." You replied, glancing up at him, examining the mole that fell just outside of his mustache, on his left cheek.

"You let me find you." Mitch challenged you.

You stopped, and Mitch turned to see what was wrong. "No, you followed my actual trail that I had been covering for three hours. You found it in forty-five minutes. Not even Stan can do that. I'm not even sure how you did it." You admitted.

"You left a couple of snapped twigs in your path." Mitch said, underplaying the techniques he used to find you.

You smirked at Mitch. "Well, that's why I didn't run. You deserve to sleep in your bed tonight."

"So, I get a key?" He asked, as you went back to walking beside him.

"Do you want it now?" You wondered if the disappointment you were feeling showed in your voice.

"No."

You smiled up at him, letting your guard down for a moment. "Yea, you get a key, Mitch." The handsome new recruit let the corner of his mouth turn up to smile back at you.

You both stopped several times and you taught him more of your techniques to creating dummy trails, covering his tracks, and leaving no trail at all. He could've gone back to the main house to relax at any point, but he was learning from you, and enjoying your presence.

"Y/n," Mitch broke the silence and caught your attention. "Why'd you shoot my target this morning?"

A small corner of your mouth curled up. "You're really pretty good with a gun, and you obviously made that clear, but you’re the new guy and I didn't want the other idiots to get pissed at you for shooting their targets." Mitch nodded, and looked down at his feet. He didn't know why you felt compelled to protect him, but he didn't mind that you had the compulsion, since he had obviously felt it too, up in the tree earlier in the evening.

"Thanks for showing me all of this. You're really good at it." Mitch said, glancing over at you as you both walked through the woods.

"I've been here long enough, if I wasn't good at tracking or being untraceable at this point, that'd be a whole other issue."

"I heard that you've been here for almost three years." Mitch said, watching as you nodded. "How old are you then?"

"I’ll be twenty-five in May. You?"

"I turn twenty-five in about a month. So they got you straight out of college?" Mitch wasn't usually this inquisitive about other people's personal business, but you were young like him, and he was curious since most of the other trainees did not look to be the same age as the two of you.

"Stan recruited me himself. Straight out of Columbia."

"You were Ivy League?"

"Try not to sound so surprised." You playfully chided him, with a smile.

"No, I'm just impressed. So are you from New York?"

"Originally. I moved to D.C. when I was nine though, then moved back up for college, and then back down here for this. What about you?"

"From McLean, Virginia, went to a few boarding schools, then I went to Syracuse for college."

"Oh you're big Orange, huh?" You laughed quietly. Mitch smiled softly and nodded. "What'd you go for?"

"International Business and French."

Your eyes perked up. "Parlez-vous français?"

Mitch see-sawed his hand back and forth. "I can get by. What'd you go to school for?"

"I double majored in History and Middle Eastern Studies, and minored in Political Science and Arabic."

"So you speak French and Arabic?" Mitch asked, impressed by your ambition and achievements.

"And Russian... and I technically took Spanish in, like, seventh and eighth grade, but all I really remember is 'where is the bathroom?'. So I don’t think that counts." You laughed quietly.

"You were basically designed for the CIA, what are you still doing here after almost three years?" Mitch asked, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers against the stubble on his cheek.

It drew your attention to his lips again, and took a deep breath in. Your first assumption about him through the window the day before was correct. He was very handsome. You shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I guess I'm still not quite up to par yet."

Mitch looked at his watch, and he noted that time was finally up. "Well no one else found you, so I think your skills are pretty up to snuff. They're all seriously going to sleep out here tonight?"

"You were supposed to be out here with them. No one was supposed to find me.” You narrowed your eyes at him and smiled suspiciously. “I swear, I still don't know how you did." You told him.

"Do you think Stan is going to think we cheated?" Mitch asked.

"No, I think Stan really likes you actually. He may not show it, but I haven't seen him this excited about a new recruit in a while." Mitch raised his eyebrows in response, surprised by your comment. "We should head in. It's time."

You and Mitch emerged from the woods to see all eighteen men, who had not found you, waiting on the dusty gravel driveway, in front of the main house, with Stan. You had given Mitch his key, and you had taken one for yourself, then you handed the bag to Stan.

"So did he find you like five minutes before?" Stan asked, surprised to see Mitch with you.

"No, she probably just wants to fuck him, so she let him find her." Mitch heard the guy who sat next to Rob at lunch, that afternoon, say to a friend under his breath. They both snickered.

"No, he found me after forty-five minutes." You told Stan, standing up next to him in front of the group.

"Nah man, they've been together for hours, she already fucked him." The friend replied, their snickers becoming more audible. Mitch thought about the ways that he could shut them up, but decided that it probably would just make things worse for you.

"You found her in less than an hour?" Stan seemed bewildered. "If the newbie found her in less than an hour, what the hell is wrong with the rest of you?” Stan stared at the quiet trainees. “What've you been doing the rest of the time?" Stan questioned Mitch, becoming suspicious.

"Learning, Sir." Mitch replied.

Stan rolled his eyes at Mitch’s short but sufficient reply. "Alright, let's go on up then. Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. See you all at target practice tomorrow at 0700. Try not to freeze." Stan went up the stairs first, and you and Mitch followed behind him. Stan locked the door behind Mitch, and grumbled his goodnights to the both of you.

Mitch grabbed a bite of dinner while you showered. He laid back in his bed and felt the book that you had given him hours ago pressing against his back. He pulled it out from his jeans and flipped through the pages, noticing certain lines underlined in pen, and thoughts scribbled in the margins. He got up out of bed to return the book.

He saw that your door was ajar, so he walked in. The room dimly lit by only your desk lamp, but he took in the sight of all of the books in the bookcase fastened to the wall above your desk. They were mostly classic novels and books on mythology and poetry, but there was one that caught his eye: A Concise History of the Middle East. He grinned at the fact that you had definitely kept one of your college textbooks. 

He continued through your room, and saw a picture on your dresser: a little y/h/c haired girl with her parents and older brother on the Staten Island Ferry, with the original World Trade Center buildings in the background. The little girl smiled from ear to ear as she hugged her brother, her face partially buried into her brothers chest. Mitch looked at your bed, thumbed the soft cover of the book and placed it on your pillow. He shut the door behind him, and went across the hall back to his room.

He yanked at his sweater, pausing as his head was still inside of it because it faintly smelled like vanilla. It smelled like you. He took one more deep breath in, then continued pulling it off of his body, his t-shirt yanking off with it, revealing a very muscular and toned young man. He pulled his trousers and boxer briefs off and wrapped his towel around his waist. 

The house was quiet enough that he heard your bedroom door open as he turned the water on for the shower. He let the water cascade down his body until he couldn't smell your scent on him anymore. He thought about Katrina, suddenly having a hard time remembering her face as clearly as he had been able to even just yesterday. He rubbed at his eyes and turned off the faucet. He dried off and re-wrapped his towel around his waist. He pulled his wet flip flops off as he stepped out of the tile of the bathroom and onto the hardwood floor that led to his bedroom.

He saw the light on under the crack of your bedroom door, and sighed. He closed his behind him and pulled a clean pair of boxer briefs out of his dresser. He pulled them up, snapping the band around his waist, and brought the towel up to run through his long wet hair. The sound of something scraping against the floor caught his attention and he glanced down to see a book being pushed under the crack of his door. He picked up the book and saw it was your copy of The Great Gatsby.

Mitch opened the door quickly and saw you about to close yours. You turned at the sound of his doorknob clicking, and gave him a good once over. Your breath sticking in the back of your throat as you saw the hair on his chest and under his navel, disappearing into his tight boxer briefs that accentuated his bulge perfectly. You examined his veiny muscles and shaggy wet hair, then tried to focus on his sleepy brown eyes.

“Everyone should read The Great Gatsby. It’s a classic.” You muttered.

He smiled softly. "Thanks." He lifted the book in the air.

"It's my favorite though, so I'll need it back when you're done." You told him with a genuine smile.

Mitch smirked, and nodded his head towards your room. "Did I not see like four copies of it in your bookcase?"

You snickered and shrugged. "When I see a copy, I buy it. Like I said, it's my favorite. Doesn’t mean you get a free book though."

Mitch nodded and gripped the book in his hand. "Goodnight."

"Night, Mitch." You closed your door.

Mitch closed his as well. He shut off all of the lights in his room, and shoved the book under his pillow. He fell asleep with it still clutched in his hand.

1 <- -> 3

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Canadian Girl

Chapter Fifteen

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC  | Word Count: 3632 Warnings: Angry Steve, violence, fluff, stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

Maria walked into the room with Bucky on her heels, and Steve got to his feet.

Kennedy was curled on her side, sleeping deeply.

He hoped she’d stay that way until he got back, and held up his hand when Maria made to speak. Motioning them both out in the hall, he followed them, quietly shutting the door. “My suit?”

“Cap,” she sighed when his face hardened. “It’s in the van. You do realize you don’t have any authority here, right?”

“Don’t need authority to go make my statement, Maria,” Steve said with complete innocence.

“But you need your suit? Really, Cap? And with him looking like death on the march,” she pointed at Bucky in his signature one sleeved jacket and combat gear, “do you think I’m stupid?”

Bucky snorted. “I like that. Death on the march. Sounds like I should have my own theme song. I want one like Darth Vader.”

“No, Agent Hill. I don’t think you’re stupid,” Steve fought down a snicker, trying not to smirk at Bucky. “I’m just going to make a statement.”

“Don’t you mean your statement?” she said before holding up her hand. “You know what? The less I know, the better. Plausible deniability and all that bullshit.”

“You’ll look after Kennedy, stay with her till I get back?” he asked, though they both knew it was far closer to an order hedged as a question.

“I have five agents on this floor I’d trust with my life, Steve. You’ve got my word.” She nodded, turning toward Kennedy’s door.

“Maria,” he stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “She has nightmares, about Hydra.”

The woman’s eyes softened. “I’ll look after her, Steve. You go do… whatever this is.” She wiggled her fingers at him and walked into Kennedy’s room.

Taking a last long look at the door, Steve turned to Bucky. “Let’s go.”

***

Stepping out of the van in full gear, Steve stood tall and placed his shield on his back. One of Hill’s agents had driven, leaving both he and Bucky free to go over the file Natasha had compiled. When Maria had said his suit was in the van, he hadn’t expected ‘the van’ to be a fully geared operations vehicle.

He should have. It was Maria after all, and she was nothing if not prepared. At least it had made suiting up easier, and into the suit he preferred. The SHIELD created Strike Stealth suit was lightweight and flexible, giving him an advantage in a fight, not that he was expecting one, but, the darkness of it suited his mood.

Leaving the helmet in the van, he and Bucky strode toward the doors of the police station, noting the stares and whispers, the gasps and shocked cries of excitement. It was nothing new, but with the scowl on his face, and the one which graced Bucky’s, it cleared a path far faster than words ever could have.

The file courtesy of Nat had been enlightening and downright disturbing. As soon as she’d given her statement to police and seen Kennedy was alright, she’d gone full Black Widow, drawing on all her training to get into Carl’s apartment without tipping off the police, as well as pulling in every bit of information she could compile about Dr. Carl Stephenson.

Carl had pictures, tons of pictures. Walls of pictures of Kennedy. Most were from the two years she’d worked here in Canada before signing on with Stark, but the man had been stalking her for years. He was quite clearly obsessed, and from the look of his place, Nat figured he hadn’t taken her rejection well.

It had been utterly destroyed. Everything was broken and shattered.

The man had been spiralling downward this past week as more pictures of Kennedy had been found. From the rodeo, many of them including Steve. His image in each had been burned or scribbled on in red marker.

Evidently, Carl disliked him.

Steve didn’t fudging care.

Carl had been signing on as the Doctor for CFR for the past four years, something Steve was relatively certain had been done to be around should Kennedy make an appearance with her family as he couldn't get to her otherwise.

Steve could only be thankful she hadn’t had the wherewithal to do so until now.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Carl might have done had she shown up without their protection.

Clearly, the man was crazy. But it wasn’t an excuse for laying hands on Kennedy. Not this week. Not five years ago.

Striding in the door, he went straight to the desk. “Ma’am,” he said to the officer behind it. “There is a Dr. Carl Stephenson in holding at this location. I’d very much like to have a word with him.”

“Cap… Captain America!” she gasped, eyes wide. “I’ll… I’ll need to get the arresting officers up here, and clear things with my Captain.”

“You do what needs doing.” He nodded, moving to one side with Bucky to wait.

It didn’t take long.

“Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes. We were expecting to meet you later at the hospital,” the Detective in charge, one Robert Tucci said, holding out his hand, currently sans partner.

Steve shook the offered hand. They’d spoken briefly when Tucci and his partner had asked Kennedy questions the previous evening, but he’d shut them down quickly when her meds had kicked in and wasn’t about to be moved from her side to give his own statement. “As we’re going to need to speak to Dr. Stephenson, this simplified things.”

Freezing for a moment, Tucci’s smile turned guarded as he shook Bucky’s hand. “Now, Captain. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“This has nothing to do with your investigation, Detective, but an ongoing SHIELD matter in regards to a project Dr. Jones is part of. We simply need to ascertain this assault on her had nothing to do with that,” he lied with the ease of Natasha for once. There was no way on God's green earth he was letting them stonewall him. “I can have Fury, the director of SHIELD, confirm our request should it be needed.”

“That won’t be necessary, Captain.”

Turning his head, Steve nodded to the woman in the three-piece suit.

Hair swept up and back, her dark eyes held a wealth of knowing.

“Captain Clark.” He knew her from Nat's file as well.

She nodded back, holding out her hand. “I had planned to join my detectives when they went to the hospital later this morning to check on Dr. Jones myself. How is she doing?”

“She’ll recover, ma’am.” He shook the surprisingly strong grip.

“I can’t begin to imagine what this must have been like for her, or you for that matter. A little downtime nearly turns tragic. It’s good to hear she’ll recover. Please, my office before they bring the doctor up.” She sent a look to Tucci who moved off to have Stephenson brought to an interview room and motioned toward the doorway she’d come out off.

Glancing at Buck, Steve headed after the Captain. Past the public areas, he took in the desks and holding spaces, the interview rooms and offices, along with all the watching eyes as he and Bucky followed the Captain into her office.

She shut the door tightly. “Let’s cut the crap here, Captain. There is no SHIELD correlation to why you’re here, is there?”

“No ma’am,” he said, unwilling to lie a second time when she had asked him straight out.

“Steve,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head.

“I appreciate your honesty, Captain. I’m sure you can understand my hesitation to leave the two of you alone in a room with Dr. Stephenson.”

“I assure you, ma’am, if we wanted Stephenson dead, he’d already be that way.”

“Bucky,” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What? It’s the truth!” Bucky huffed, crossing his arms.

Clark chuckled softly. “I always wondered how much of those old film reels were real and what was an act for the camera. It was all real, wasn’t it?”

Steve nodded. “Buck’s been my best friend, hell, my brother since we were kids.”

“I’ll admit to being a fan, Captain, Sergeant. It’s really the only reason I don’t kick both your ass out of my precinct and inform your director of this blatant breach of protocol.”

Chuckling, Bucky smirked at Steve. “Least she knew who you were. Guess not all Canadians are as clueless as Kennedy.”

“Shut up, jerk,” Steve huffed, feeling the red flare in his cheeks.

“Punk.”

Clark blinked for a moment before a wry smile crossed her lips. “Dr. Jones didn’t know who you were when you met?”

“She didn’t have a clue who he was till about two weeks ago though they’ve been dating for months,” Bucky snickered.

A shocked burst of laughter escaped Clark’s lips before she cleared her throat. “How… refreshing that must have been,” she snickered. “Alright, Captain. The truth. Why are you here really?”

“I have something to say to Dr. Stephenson.”

“And that would be?”

“For Stephenson’s ears alone.”

Her face blanked and jaw tightened. “Then I’m sorry, Cap. I can’t let you see him.”

Drawing himself up, Steve let the anger he’d been doing his best to control fill him. “Ma’am, I intend to speak with him. I’d prefer that be with your permission. If I have to do so without it…” he shrugged.

“Is that a threat, Captain?” she asked softly.

“No, ma’am. It’s a promise.”

She studied him for a long moment before looking to Bucky. What she saw on his face, Steve didn’t know, but it made her sigh. “I’d rather not start something that can be avoided, Captain. We’re not unreasonable people.”

Again Bucky snorted. “Canadians.”

She glared at him before continuing. “I will give you five minutes as professional courtesy. Only five, and he damn well better come out looking the same way he went in.”

“More than I need, ma’am.”

“You’d best give Tucci your statements before you get in the room with Dr. Stephenson. I suspect you’ll want to be leaving in a hurry once you’re finished. And as he is currently without representation, I don’t see a point in filming things as nothing he will say to you will be admissible.”

Steve flashed a grin. “I believe our statements have already been emailed to your Detectives, Captain Clark.”

“Well, aren’t you efficient, Captain Rogers.”

“Want to get everything expedited. Kennedy desires to go home. I intend to make that happen.”

A genuine smile filled her face. “Who would have ever guessed Captain America would fall in love with a Canadian girl.”

“You only need to know Kennedy a few minutes to figure out why that is,” Steve said.

“He’s stupidly in love with her,” Bucky chuckled. “Thanks, doll face, for bending the rules.”

Clark’s brow arched with his words. “You’re welcome, soldier, but call me doll face again, and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Ooh, feisty,” he said, smirking at Steve. “Maybe it is a Canadian thing.”

“Out! Out of my office.” Rolling her eyes, Clark shooed them both out the door. “Tucci!” she bellowed.

“Captain?” the Detective poked his head around the corner.

“Get it done. Five minutes.” She glanced up at him and spoke softly. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“No, ma’am,” Steve promised, striding down the hall toward Tucci.

The detective didn’t look all that happy about what was about to occur, but he also wasn’t going to go against a direct order.

Steve only nodded politely as the man led him to a door.

“Captain Rogers, you’ve got five minutes.”

Walking into the room, Steve took in the space.

A one-way mirror filled the wall across from Carl, but there were no other windows, only a table and chairs. Looking up at the camera in the corner, he shifted his gaze from it to the glass and back, watching as the blinking red light went out. Again, he nodded toward the glass, well aware the Captain was keeping her word. He had every intention of keeping his. He wasn't going to touch Carl.

Bucky stayed in the corner near the door, arms crossed, looking menacing as per usual. The gleam of pure hatred on his face was hard to miss, as was the way he kept flexing his metal hand.

Finally turning his attention to the man at the table, handcuffed to it, Steve pulled out the chair across from him, spinning it so he could straddle it without having to remove his shield. “You know who I am?”

Carl’s eyes were rather big before his face closed down. “You're Captain fucking America. Big deal.”

“You know who he is?” Steve nodded toward Bucky.

“So? You’ve got no jurisdiction here. You can’t do shit to me,” he snorted, showing his stupid.

Leaning on the back of the chair, it creaked slightly beneath Steve’s weight. “You’d best hope and pray you spend a long time in jail Stephenson. A very long time,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Kennedy’s told me everything. All the fucked up shit you pulled in the past, I know everything!”

“Little whore’s telling tales now, is she? She always was such a fuck up,” he sneered.

Steve’s fist came down on the table, denting a rather large impression in the metal.

Bucky’s hand latched around the doorknob, holding it shut with a lazy ease when the banging and shouting started.

Getting to his feet, Steve kicked the chair out of the way, leaned across the table, looming over Carl, causing him to lean back as far as the cuffs would allow. “You’d best pray they lock you up and throw away the key cause we’ll be waiting for you when you get out. No one, absolutely no one touches Kennedy and gets away with it!” Latching a hand in his shirt, Steve yanked Carl forward, up and out of his chair. “She’s my girl, you get me?”

Nodding frantically, Carl blubbered, “Please don’t kill me!”

It was just as Steve assumed. A bully, but only to those he knew were weaker than him. “You’ll tell the police everything. The stalking, the pictures, and confess to attempting to kill Kennedy.”

“Yes! I swear!” The sour scent of urine filled the air.

Nose wrinkling in disgust, Steve reached down and ripped the hook Carl’s cuffs were attached to out of the table. Shoving the man back into his chair, Steve skidded it and him out of the way, right back into the wall. “You’ll never try and contact Kennedy again. You won’t look for her. You won’t research her. You won’t even think of her, or I swear I’ll know. And so help me, Stephenson, if I even get a whiff of a rumour you’ve been doing this shit, stalkin’ another woman,” he pulled the shield from his back.

It went on his arm with practiced ease, a fluid, grace-filled move which bespoke his comfort with the item. Then, he drove it with all his strength through the table, shearing the metal top right in half.

It fell to pieces at his feet with a rather loud bang.

Glaring at Carl, Steve placed the shield back on his back. “Point taken, Stephenson?”

More frantic nodding commenced.

Stepping into the wreckage, he stood tall and intimidating when he said, “Me you’ll see coming. Him?” he motioned to Bucky. “Not so much. Be a good citizen, Carl, or I guarantee you’ll see one of us again.”

The man was blubbering in a pool of his own piss when Steve turned on his heel and nodded to Bucky.

Releasing the door, Bucky caught it when it flew open and stepped out of the way. “Detective. Looks like we’re done.” He smirked at Tucci who'd tumble through the door as he walked out of the room.

Stalking out after him, Steve swept a glare at all the drawn weapons. “Officers. You’re doing an exceptional job. Captain.” He nodded to Clark. “There isn’t a scratch on your prisoner, though I apologize for the smell. Feel free to bill me for the table.”

“Now just a damn minute!” Tucci barked. “You can’t just come in here like you own the place-”

“Detective!” barked Clark. “Shut your pie hole.”

He did so, but Steve could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Leaning toward Clark, he asked, “This going to cause you grief?”

She snorted. “If it does I’ll deal. What did they expect me to do? Say no to the first Avenger?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I will be billing you for the table though.”

“Send it to Stark. I’ll see it’s taken care of.”

A grin twitched her lips. “Will do. Was nice seeing you in action, Cap.”

“Ma’am.” He nodded. “Let’s go, Buck.”

On his way by, Bucky tilted his head to Clark. “Dollface,” he said quietly, adding a wink.

She gritted her teeth. “Sergeant,” she hissed. “The warning stands.”

“Damn, she is like the Doc!” Bucky chuckled.

“I believe Kennedy threatened to castrate you, not kick your ass.” Steve grinned when a burst of laughter snorted from Clark and dragged Bucky out the door.

They stepped outside into flashing lights and shouting, finding the steps swarming with reporters.

Shit.

Sighing silently, Steve did his duty and answered questions.

***

“In news which has both shocked and elated Canadians across the country, it appears Captain Steve Rogers, the first Avenger, Captain America himself, has fallen for a Canadian girl!”

Such were the first words Kennedy heard when she woke the second time.

“Indeed, Kent. The news has rocked fans around the globe, but here at home, the people we’ve spoken to couldn’t be more pleased with this turn of events. Dr. Kennedy Jones, renowned researcher, has been working to unravel the secrets of the super soldier serum. We can only imagine it was how she met Captain Rogers, and assume their romance blossomed from there.”

Snorting softly, Kennedy rolled to her back. Opening her eyes, she chuckled at the news team. “Not quite but sure.”

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Jolting, Kennedy glanced to the right where Maria sat reading a magazine. “Agent Hill?”

Lifting the remote, she turned the TV down. “Maria is fine, Doc.”

“Kennedy is good. Where’s Steven?” she asked.

He’d said he would be there.

Something flashed in Maria’s eyes. “He’ll be back. Went to give his statement.”

“Oh.” Pushing herself up, Kennedy pressed her fingers to her temple. The headache was better, but it still throbbed when she moved too fast. “I hate having a concussion,” she groaned.

“Suffer many of those?”

“Between horses and hockey? Yeah, a few,” Kennedy chuckled, glancing back to the TV. “Oh!” Her eyes widened. “That’s Steven!”

Maria’s head whipped to the TV. “Shit,” she hissed softly, turning it back up.

“On behalf of myself and the Avengers, I’d like to thank the Edmonton police department for their quick and decisive action in this matter. They have been most accommodating and professional.”

“Cap! Is there a reason you’re suited-up?” one reporter called out.

“Professional courtesy,” Steven answered.

“How long have you and Dr. Jones been together?” called another.

“A while,” Steve chuckled as Bucky did.

“Is Dr. Jones going to be alright?”

“Kennedy is recovering as we speak.” His smile softened.

“Did you see her ex while you were in there?”

“Thank you for your questions and concern, but I’d like to get back to my girl now.” Waving, he and Bucky simply moved through the reporters, stopping twice to sign autographs for a couple of small children, before getting in the van.

“Well, there you have it…” the sound muted a second time.

“Better than expected,” Maria muttered.

“He… he went to the station to give his statement?” Kennedy whispered, feeling suddenly light-headed.

“Yeah, I did.”

Standing in the doorway, fully kitted out in his Cap gear, Kennedy felt her IQ points drop as her brain fried. “Oh… wow. I see what all the fuss is about now.”

Steve chuckled, striding across the room to sit on the edge of her bed. “Thanks, Maria.”

“Cap. Didn’t get yourself into trouble?” she asked.

“None whatsoever,” he said with a grin.

“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes as she got to her feet. “A likely story. I’ll go drag it out of Barnes.”

When the door clicked shut, Kennedy reached out to touch the silver star and stripes across Steven’s chest. “Wow.”

“You said that already, doll.” His face was a little smug. “Thought you’d seen pictures?”

“Different in person. You look… intimidating.” Shifting to her knees, Kennedy ran her fingers over the planes and angles of the suit.

Steve closed his hands around her hips, drawing her forward to straddle his thigh. “How you feeling, baby?”

“Like I got punched in the head, Steven,” she snorted, a smile tugging her lips.

Stroking his hands down her back, he held her close. “You want to get out of here?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him gently. The soft nature of the kiss turned her heart over. When she finally broke it, her arms had wrapped behind his neck. “Did you threaten Carl?”

“Would it upset you if I had?” he asked.

Resting her head on his shoulder, face tucked against his throat, she sighed. “Would it make me a horrible person if I said no?”

“Definitely not.”

“Then no.” Smiling, she sucked a kiss against his pulse. “Just how do you get out of your suit, Steven?”

“Once we’re somewhere more private, I’ll show you,” he growled, taking a firm grip on her ass.

“Oh, Captain!” she gasped, laughing when he buried his face in her throat and bit gently at her.

“Minx,” he grumbled. “Let’s go home.”

 Epilogue 

[come-with-me-and-imagine]

Come What May, A Sherlock Holmes Fan Fiction

Chapter Two: “It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’...  

“It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree.”  The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But its never gone.”

Rose Kennedy.

Hands flew up to cover her mouth as the white sheet was pulled back. she tried not to gasp as the little boy's face was revealed. She saw the bruises on his throat and thought about what this boy must have gone through. And then, she thought, what was her  own child going through right now. "Do you know him miss?" Molly asked as she eyed Sam's reaction.

Her hands then moved from her mouth to rest upon her chest as she took a step closer. Now she was almost directly next to his body. Sherlock placed a hand on her back and felt her trembling. Had he done the right thing by asking her? Or had he merely made things worse? Normally these were not things he thought about when it came to cases.

But Sam Bennett was different.

How she was different, now that was an answer he did not have.

"Miss?" Molly asked again bringing Sam out of her thoughts "Are you alright?"

"I....I think...this boy is Oliver Thompson." She took a breath and a very deep one. "His father is Charles Thompson and his mother is Victoria they live in...." She took another breath. "The North East end of London. They come to the meetings that we have once a month." Sherlock pulled away long enough to give Lestrade the information.

"Miss..." Molly said softly before handing Sam a glass of water. She slowly sipped it while she watched the boy being recovered by the white sheet. As if that would have helped...

Sam's body gave a shiver before she sat down in a chair and drank the water. Molly then walked over to Sherlock once he had finished his phone call. "Sherlock I need to talk to you."

"Molly perhaps it could wait--" He tried to brush her off so he could go back to Sam.

"No this cannot wait." Molly interrupted, "Sherlock she is not alright. What ever happened to her" She sighed "Sherlock she is not coping. I can see it. She looks like she hasn't slept in months. Let alone eating. Please Sherlock, she needs help."

Slowly he turned his head back to Sam. Molly was right. The way she sat hunched over with her head in her hand. She had downed the glass of water in seconds a sign of possible dehydration. Dark circles beneath her eyes. She had lost weight--gods why hadn't he noticed this before?!

"Thank you Molly." He walked over to Sam and crouched in front of her. "Sam...when did you last sleep?"

"Earlier today."

"I'm not speaking about naps Sam. I'm talking about a real nights sleep. When Sam?"

She sighed keeping her head in her hand so she wouldn't have to look into his eyes. "I don't know."

Now it was Sherlock's turn to sigh "come on." He wrapped his hands around her upper arms. "I'm taking you to my flat. There you will be getting sleep whether you like it or not." He pulled her to her feet making sure to support her weight.

“Sherlock I’m fine--”

“You are not fine Samantha.” He scolded “Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself.” He wrapped an arm around her and walked with her out of the morgue. “Thank you Molly.” He said one last time before the doors closed.

Sam thought it best not to argue with Sherlock for she would surely lose. She stayed quiet as he hailed a taxi to take them back to Baker Street. The ride inside the taxi was slightly tense and very silent. She stared out of the window as it started to rain. The drops hit the window before spreading out over the glass. “Sherlock....I....” She sighed “Why are you doing this?”

Sherlock turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. “I don’t understand.”

“Being this way with me. Staying with me. Talking with me over these last four years....taking care of me. I can’t be that important Sherlock.”

To say that Sherlock Holmes was shocked would be slight understatement. He was more so flabbergasted. How could this woman think that she wasn’t important? “You are important.”

“But why am I?” She pressed the matter.

“Because...” He sighed growing frustrated. He didn’t really know himself either. Why was she important? “Because I care...about you. I don’t like seeing you this way and it makes my chest hurt knowing you are doing this to yourself Sam. I can’t explain it because I am not use to these feelings or emotions.” The taxi pulled up in front of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock paid the driver before he got out and went around to the other door. He escorted her inside quickly so neither would get too wet. “Just up this way.” He said as he lead her up the flights of stairs.

At that moment he was thankful John was not living here anymore. The amount of questions that man could and would often ask. The mere thought of it gave Sherlock a headache. But that did not matter, what mattered at that moment was Sam. He unlocked the door upon reaching his flat and let her inside. “Have a seat I will make you some tea after which you will have a well rested nap. Then I am going to get some food in that stomach of yours. You need to get your weight back up to where it was.” He was blunt as always in his words but he didn’t know how to be any other way. He was trying to get his point across to her.

Hopefully it worked.

Minutes later the tea kettle was screaming for Sherlock to remove it from the flames. He poured the water in to the awaiting cup where a tea bag already sat. John had left behind a box of his tea. A type of tea that was said to relax the drinker into a peaceful sleep.

Sam drank the tea he had given her while Sherlock watched from his chair. He made sure she drank all of it. Once the tea had been finished within minutes Sam started to feel drowsy. Her eyes started to close at the moment she felt arms wrap around her. Her body was lifted from the chair and carried. Then a soft bed appeared underneath her. Her body began to feel exhausted and weak.

Sherlock watched her slowly start to drift off as he removed her coat and the top half of her scrubs. She was left in a white tank top and the bottom half of her uniform. Once her shoes had also been removed he tucked her into his bed. Within seconds he heard a soft snoring coming from the woman who was now wrapped up in his sheets.

He stood there, he didn’t know how long, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her. What exactly did he feel for this woman? What was she to him? Friend? Acquaintance maybe... ‘No.’ he thought ‘Acquaintances don’t do things like this...’  Why did he care? Why indeed.

Sherlock thought back to the moment he first met her. How distraught she was over her son having been taken from her. His eyes closed....

Lestrade held onto her arms with his hands trying to calm her down. Her face was stained with tears already from the shock and the horror of it all. That was when he saw her. Her face had turned now to him her eyes wide with fear and panic. They were glossy and shiny...like crystal.

The memory froze as Sherlock climbed out of the cab. He walked past the frozen figures to stand in front of Sam. Lestrade still had a hold of her in futile attempts to calm her.  Slowly his hand reached out to try and wipe a tear away from her cheek. Her deep hazel eyes stared up at him as all the other figures in his memory faded away. The two were left standing together in his memory palace.  She was still just as she was in that memory.

“Sherlock...” She said softly. His eyes closed at the sound of his name on her voice.

“Oh Sam...” He sighed “I’m sorry....”

“For what Sherlock?”

“For not finding your son...”

“But you will Sherlock.” She smiled softly. Not enough to where her teeth were shown or to show off her dimples. But just enough to where it made her face brighten. And that made Sherlock Holmes’s heart...flutter.

“Sherlock.” That wasn’t her voice that came from her mouth this time. “Sherlock...” Who’s voice was it?”

“Sherlock.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts to the sound of Mrs. Hudson’s voice. She stood there in the doorway of his bedroom staring at him.

[bellamysgriffin]

whats ur history with the song busted from phineas and ferb eye emoji

okay here we GO

so me, like an idiot decides hey what might be a fun idea? oh haha i know!! let me text me friends the lyrics to busted and we can all have some laughs!!

so i do it. laughs are shared. until i text this one chick let’s call her jessica. jessica is uncultured swine who has never seen phineas and ferb. so i texted her:

me: you’re busted jessica: what?me: i don’t want to put the hurt on youjessica: dana what’s going onme: but you better by believe me when i tell you that i finally got the dirt on youjessica: If this is about dustin, it was hannah who told everyoneme: jessica: i was mad at you for some reason and I was like when since everyone knows i should just tell dustin me: ok i was just singing a song from phineas and ferb jessica: oh lmao jessica: well now you know jessica: oops jessica: sojessica: yeah jessica: i’m sorryjessica: kennedy was about to tell him jessica: and i knew she’d snicker about itjessica: so i told him in a nice wayjessica: that defended you more than made fun of you

ok. SO. we’re gonna call him dustin. and near the beginning of sophomore year i had a crush on said dustin. who cares though? catty girl stuff, bygones whatever. so dustin knows? so what.

except i go to art school where there are thirteen ppl in the department and when ppl date things get Fucked Up. i heard horror stories of a year where the department was literally split in half bc of a rocky break up between two poets. so i’m just chilling from the sidelines ready to shake it.

and then, one day, i shrug this chick off or something, and bam. secret told.

you think that’s it?? hell no!!!

i get to school, i’m mortified. dustin knows and so does the whole department and i’m just… fan-fucking-tastic, right? i don’t talk to dustin for weeks. he asks someone if i’m mad. too mortified to respond, i do not. this continues.

until MARCH. march is the month of Fucked Up Shit. jessica gave me a book and i was all, “oh thanks jessica this is kind all is forgiven but i don’t particularly want to continue being friends.” jessica had not only done this dustin thing, she ditched me in the middle of the city, she insulted my pink shoes for being pink!!!! and she is one of those ppl who says shit like “if you don’t know pink floyd you don’t know music” and “i don’t like mainstream things” and i’m like no thanks jessica i’d rather fucking enjoy life thanks for the book though!!!

apparently this Pissed Jessica Off. i am a writer and i wrote a story about some chick who had a Really Bad Night where her boyfriend cheats on her at some bar so she goes home and while throwing out her stuff, realizes all the things she’s done to appease her boyfriends through the years and throws out all the stuff that makes her unhappy.

not too important but kinda. anyway i workshop this shit and so i print out these copies, single sided because our printer fucking sucks so it’s like 13 pgs and i give them away for ppl.

i wake up to twenty texts from the writers group chat. jessica has posted on a video of her flipping through my story with a caption “the content is as bad as the printing job, thank you dana scott” on her FUCKING SNAPCHAT

now this may sound like not a Big Deal but at our school bashing people’s art in any way is a No No. so i text her a screenshot saying “what the fuck jessica.”

her response? WHO SENT YOU THST!!! you weren’t supposed to see that.

….

this exchange went on for a bit, and i’m basically Over It. and she says “i still don’t know why you started this grudge anyways”

and i’m just… jessica. HONEY. i said thank you for the book, but let’s be honest i do NOT wanna be friends with someone who hates bright color and chastises me for talking too loud ok.

jessica and i no longer communicate for the rest of the year aside from her telling me that my favorite chapter from the things they carried was “so mainstream.” dustin and i do not talk much either, for this i feel bad. but still; mortified.

and anyway, congrats if you got to the bottom, but that’s how the song busted from phineas and ferb Fucked Up My Life.

[obrienpascal]

Our Deal

Author: dylanobriens-world

Summary: Mitch Rapp is assigned a partner by Stan Hurley. Her name is Nastasia Aleski. The two of them go through some highs and lows and eventually Mitch finds out some bad news about Nastasia and can no longer trust her. But things start to backfire that can lead them both dead.

Author's note: Hey! So I wrote this on AO3 so I will continue this story on there but I wanted to post the first chapter here:) hope you enjoy!!

AO3 link: is above^^

-----

I knew I had to wake up to go to the bar to meet my new partner my mentor Stan Hurley said I was going to have. He did not mention if it were man or a woman. Although, by the way he looked I can tell he knew who the person was just wanted me to find out myself. I lifted myself out of bed cracking my bones. The dark clouds made it seem it was four in the morning even though it was seventy o'clock at night. It was raining all day meaning I stood asleep till it was time to meet this John doe.

Whoever this person I was going to meet better like drinking at seven at night. It made me think if I should just follow my own path or let them lead the way. Yeah right, if anything they better follow my ass or their out of a job. I don't give a fuck what Kennedy or Hurley says to me. It wasn't hard for me to read people, I take one look at them and I know their intentions immediately. Are they hiding something? Did they hire someone to come with them to make sure I'm not going to kill them or such? It was a gift I had, Hurley helped with it at most but more of me.

Putting on a black shirt with my leather jacket, throwing on a pair of jeans I snatched from my floor and slipping on pair of Adidas shoes, I looked in the mirror realizing I need to shave. I could care less right now. My intentions were to go meet this new partner of mine. I grabbed my wallet and Marbelo cigarettes as well as my cell phone stuffing it in my pocket.

I undid the chains on my apartment front door. I trust no one which is why I put all these chains on my door. I walked out putting my key to lock my door then heading outside. The breeze flowed through my thick dark hair giving my the chills as I stepped into my car.

"Fucking weather," I hissed under my breath starting the engine. My gray Sedan took off to the bar Hurley said my "partner" would be located at. If they recognize me I'll be astonished they wouldn't make a run for it. I've killed many people. Most of them sleep with one eye open because they know I'm coming for them. It's smart, but doesn't stop me from killing them once I lay my eye on the prey.

My sedan came to stop parking in the bars lot. It was packed with vehicles and motorcycles. This better be one hell of a night. I sighed under my nose slipping my hands in my pockets walking into the bar. Immediately chatter fills my ears. Men rambling about the football game. Bar tenders walking around trying to sell drinks, and woman trying to seduce men and drag them to the bathrooms.

Not one of these people looked like a fit to be working with me. Let along able to hold a conversation with half of the drunkies here. I walked over to the bar and sat down on the stool. The man was on the other side taking an order while I sat at the corner with my back to the wall. It was what I always did anyone could sneak up on me. I always needed to be able to look over my shoulder. I fetched out a cigarette lighting it blowing out smoke to my left. Seconds later the man comes over to me.

"What will it be?" He asked cleaning a shot glass with a rag.

I put my cigarette between my index finger and my middle finger. "Just a beer." My tone louder than his over the loud music. They couldn't play better music? Couldn't even hear the game over the beats and the loud hollering from the crazed Giants fans. As my eyes were wandering about they stopped on a woman sitting alone in the corner her back to the wall.

Her long brown hair pushed to the right while she brought her cigarette to her red lips. Her breasts practically were screaming to get out of that tight red dress she was wearing revealing sexy toned legs. She uncrossed her legs when her eyes met mine. The mysterious woman tapped the end of her cigarette letting the ashes fall to the ground as she looked back at me with a flirtatious smirk.

I tried to look away but I couldn't. My eyes were glued to the beautiful woman just a couple of seats away from me. All of a sudden she stood from her chair walking over to me. As she sat down next to me she sat tall with good posture waving for the bar tender to head over. When he came over he tried hard not to stare at her tits. She didn't seem to mind though when he kept sneaking a peak.

Finally, he went to go make her drink then she rested her elbows in the counter bringing her hands together turning her head to me.

"Hurley said you never arrive early." She said to me with a honest tone looking at me with concentrated eyes. I did my best to hide my surprisement in my eyes. How did I not see she was my partner? It all ran so clear. This woman sat in a corner her back to the wall just as me. Along with that, she minded he'd own business letting all this ruckus smooth past us.

"Hurley can mind his fucking business." I snarl taking a sip from my beer. The nameless woman looks away letting out a giggle as the man comes back with her drink.

"Thank you, dear." She says taking it in her hands giving him a wink. The man blushes hard before walking off to another customer. I guess she had her ways to get out of paying for her drinks. Smart girl.

"Would you give me your name or it's a secret?" I ask waving my cigarette around as I spoke.

Her eyes batted as she turned to me sipping her liquor through a thin straw. As she let out a sigh of relief as she was satisfied with her drink of choice she moved her body more to me meaning she doesn't want anyone else to here what she's about to say.

"I am Nastasia Aleski" she smiled through her teeths holding out her small hand for me to shake. I took it in mine giving it a firm shake as I tried to study her face to find a any hint she was lying. I couldn't find any hint of her not telling me the truth or she was just good at hiding it. "I know who you are," she pauses leaning closely, "Mitch Rapp." She whispered that sending shivers down my spine. Nastasia moved away bringing her straw back to her lips.

"I bet you know I've killed people." I say in a low tone but loud enough for her to hear. Nastasia gives a small nod.

"So have I and every other insane person in this world. Your no different. Stan was very clear on who I was going to be dealing with. A sad man who lost his wife and hasn't been himself since." Why would he tell this woman all my deep personal shit if I haven't met her till today. The next time I see him he better hope I don't beat the living shit out of him. "But don't worry I too lost someone close to me. It's not a pleasant feeling."

"Who was it? A husband?" I guessed bringing my cigarette to my lips.

Nastasia shakes her head putting her drink down stirring it in circles with her straw. "My father just when I was a little girl. I was close to him more than my drug addict mother who left us when I was ten. Haven't seen her since and never want to see her again. I do miss my father dearly, sometimes I think he's in my dreams with me." She states looking in the different drink choices on the shelves in front of us. It was hard to read this girl she had years of practice to never let a stranger or anyone be able to read her.

"I'm sorry for your lost."

"I don't need your pity. Now, let's just get to business. Hurley told me to meet at Irene Kennedy's office with you by the morning. Kennedy also knows you won't make it there in time so she suggested I spend the night with you to make sure you get there in time because this meeting is very important." She stated shitfting in her seat to face me. Was she joking? We'd only just met also why isn't Irene telling me any of this? I knew the reason, it would have stopped me to meet up with the woman. It was hard enough to be read her now she has to be with me in my apartment.

"Mitch?" She called out grabbing my full attention.

"Right, sorry. All right, sure let's go now." I tell her stepping out of the stool. I held out my hand for her to get down on her high heels and she took it giving it a squeeze. Nastasia smiled hard releasing her hand out of my grasp waiting for me to lead the way. I walked out of the bar holding the door open for her and she thanked me walking tall outside. It was raining once again as it was darker than before when I just arrived here. The long brown haired woman started to shake at the cold temperature. Standing just outside the driver's seat I walked took off my jacket handing it to Nastasia.

"Thank you, Mitch." She greeted as I unlocked the car and she climbed in the passenger seat. Who knew my night would end in bringing home a woman who is my partner for however long Hurley keeps her in my life.

I drove away from the bar turning on my wipers wiping the rain drops away. She was still shivering so I moved my hand to turn the heat up. The rain was getting heavy by the minute which didn't help how cold my car was. The red light turned green and I drove up the road. Next I turned right and drove up to my parking space.

"This is me." I point to my apartment building. I took the keys out the ignition opening my door. "Well, I hope you can run in heels doll face." I smirk at her before leaping out of the car. I jogged to my front door looking for my key. Seconds later I heard heels clacking against the concrete then hopping up my stairs. I found my key opening the door rushing in as did Nastasia. She throws my jacket to the ground running her hand through her wet hair.

"Boy, was it raining hard. I have to get out of this dress." She says staring down at her wet body.

"The shower is down hall to the right. And I suppose your not going to wear that dress again so I'll just leave my clothes in the spare bedroom." I tell her taking my shoes off to leave them on the mat by my front door.

"Thank you, Mitch." She says once again leaving her heels on the mat then walking down the hall to the shower. I let out a exhausted sigh then walk to my bedroom tearing off my clothes. I didn't mind not showering till she was done. For now I put on a new pair of boxers and turn on the TV. Light flashed in my room from the lighting that just started. Right after the lighting it thundered loudly.

I was surprised she wasn't alarmed by that. Well, thunder storms are more for kids to be afraid of right? I lifted my head from my pillow and noticed it was now soaked. Oh well, I has to get out of bed anyways to give Nastasia clothing. I crawled out of bed to my draws. I opened the top one taking out a T-shirt then next to that draw I took out a pair of checkered red and blue pants.

Holding the clothes in my hand I walked down the hall opening the guest bedroom noticing she already settled in. Her phone was on the night stand along with her cigarettes and purse. Was it okay if I snooped a little? I mean she was in my home. I put the clothes on the bed as I walked over slowly to her cell phone. Finger prints can leave on anything. A phone you'll catch the finger print in a heart beat. My long finger was hovering over the home button until I heard a females voice from behind.

"What do you think your doing?" Nastasia questioned gripping the towel her angry eyes staring back at me. She walked over by me grabbing her phone. I stepped back pointing to the clothes.

"I told you I was bringing you clothes."

"You left out snooping through my phone." She snarled at me her nostrils flared up.

"It's hard to trust someone I just met who's in my home. So I wanted to check if your not someone Hurley did sign."

She let's out a long sigh closing her eyes, "Mitch. I know it's hard for you to trust someone but, I mean no harm. I'm just doing this business for Kennedy and Hurley that's all. You have absolutely nothing to worry about now please can I get dressed I'm exhausted." She explained unwrapping her towel slowly cuing me to leave. I raised my eyebrows then sprinted to the door. Without looking back I said.

"Enjoy your night," I closed the door behind me heading to the shower. I was exhausted as well and couldn't wait to finally get some rest for the hell I'm going to get tomorrow.

I turned on the water letting my boxers fall to the floor as I stepped into the shower. The warm water hit my back as it felt like a massage. I ran my fingers through my wet hair putting shampoo in it. I let the soap fall to the floor, next I washed my body then turned off the shower. I stepped out grabbing a towel drying my hair and face then wrapping it around my waist.

Maybe I should shave so Irene doesn't bother me about it tomorrow. I grab my shaver shaving my thick beard. I put it down rubbing my face as there no longer is a monster beard on my chin. I walk over to open the door walking to my bedroom. Should I check on Nastasia? Or just let her rest? I walked to her room as the door was cracked open. I peaked my eye in not being able to see much which made me open the door a little more noticing she was sleeping with the clothes I gave her snuggling one of the pillows. Good thing she was asleep for all I know she would've tried to leave. I did only meet her a couple of hours ago. Tomorrow better be one hell of a meeting. Otherwise, this woman is in my spare bedroom for no apparent reason.