#no more crazy theories for early morning me

[witchcraftingboop]

Me, trying to live my life:

Random man in a discussion post: George Floyd was a media plant, like Rosa Parks! And all the riots were planned! Facts over feelings! How much longer are we going to let the media control our country?!

Me: ??? Sir, this... this is a philosophy course

[sootsz]

in light of recent ominous events with the eggs (namely, theories that they’re hatching, and their even more recent disappearance this morning), i think it’s worth looking at what an insane social experiment of a situation that all the members and admins find themselves in, with us as the overly invested lab coat scientists, so hi welcome to Quackity (Accidentally) Makes Social Experiments 100000% Funnier

when talking about the egg event the focus tends to be on the cc’s and how attached they are, because they’re the ones we can fully see and gauge their emotional responses. it’s already been well established how genuinely invested they all are. but the eggs’ admins have just as much skin in the game as their in-game parents do

The tragedy of the eggs being taken away isn’t necessarily the eggs (characters) dying/leaving. it’s more than that. it’s that, in a way, the admin dies with the character. And the further that the egg event has continued past the point it was meant to end, and past the point of no return, the more true this has become.

richas plays more than the “actual” members. phil admits to seeing chayanne and tallulah as part of the server and genuinely likes who they are as people. dapper, ramon, leo, pomme—they’re all so ingrained in the island that it is impossible to imagine it without them, and to do so would be like removing half of the cc’s themselves. only Worse!

Because it’s so final when the eggs die. so definite. because even if a steamer left, you’ll see them continue in their own capacity as a streamer, but the eggs are just gone. they’re mostly anonymous (richas is again a good example). they’d vanish like they were never there, with no real way to reconnect with them

and it’s all even More high-stakes from the admin’s perspective. from watching early gegg streams, you can see how, even with charlie’s mic off, it doesn’t really feel any different from watching a normal stream?? he’s still there, interacting with his friends, joking around, playing minecraft with them, and that’s what the egg’s admins do almost Every. Single. Day. what!! an indirect comparison would be an internet friend you’ve only messaged and never vc’d with. a more direct comparison (for those who were in the trenches) would be that friend you made when you were 12 and roleplaying on a minecraft creative plots server.

juanaflippa’s admin and tilin’s admin have, on twitter, mentioned how much they miss hanging out with their ‘parents’. bobby’s admin having to say goodbye to jaiden and roier and actually crying. tallulah and chayanne giving music recommendations to phil. leo interacting with foolish in a pretty Normal Friends way (yknow, if you disregard the bedtime stories) with leo teaching him spanish and him teaching her english. they’re ALL more than just characters. they’re people!! what the hell!!!

this is not to say that the admins for the eggs are traumatized, not even a little, or that the egg experiment is in any way morally wrong (on the contrary, I love it! fun roleplay dynamics! acting! emotions repercussions that make me want to study their brains!) though i do hope for the admins sake and all of ours that they can stay as long as possible or else their therapy bills will be crazy

because when it comes down to it, friendship is friendship, whether you met roleplaying their child on a minecraft server or not

enjoy the island :)

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 4]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.9k

Summary: Sometimes actions have consequences for your fragile body, your morning getting off to a sore start. The day thankfully offers you a calm morning, a long-overdue conversation, and a desperate Wooyoung bringing laughter to everyone, in his own special way.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, voyeurism

A/n: Apologies for how long it took me to post this chapter, I kept editing and rewriting different sections of it because I wanted it to be perfect. I realized recently how much this series means to me, I think because of how much I relate to the main character, and the kind response I've gotten from all of you <3 I'm so glad to be finally posting, and will definitely continue to write the other parts I've planned. I really hope you all enjoy!

Linked here is my masterlist where you can find the previous parts. Again let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! (it will be six parts in total if everything goes to plan)

Taglist: @certifiedmoa @pautiny27 @luvbit3z @dawn-iscozy @artistic-rendition

@yeosangiess @drinkingrumandcocacola @smally97 @kierraperkins3 @newworldwritings

@peachyy-jooniee @lucid-galaxys-world @arigakittyo @staytinyroha @yoonjikim

You wake in a blurry haze, the early morning light shining gently in through the window. You wonder for a moment if another storm rolled in last night, if the light is so soft because the sky is blanketed in clouds. A quick glance at your phone tells you it's just the light of dawn, the sun not risen enough yet to fully brighten the room. You groan internally, wishing your body let you sleep in after the crazy day you'd just had. You lay awake for a while, eyes still closed, as you hear Yunho's steady deep breaths of sleep. You try to let your mind rest more, but soon you can tell there's no point, your brain desperately chewing through every intense conversation you'd had the day before. As quietly as you can you sit up and scoot yourself off the bed, rubbing your eyes as you walk yourself to the bathroom.

Immediately upon standing you notice the feeling, a slight soreness deep in your core. It almost doesn't feel bad, at least initially, and it makes you giggle to yourself, remembering your previous night. You hadn't expected Yunho to fuck you so hard, and truthfully you loved it. Miraculously your body had been able to take it, maybe even needed it because of the emotionally exhausting day. But you also knew you might pay a bit of a price for it now. You'd certainly joked with people like Ari, or Wooyoung, about being fucked so hard you could still feel it the next morning. And in theory it sounded like the best case scenario, like something everyone would want. But now that you were here it also felt a little concerning, that your muscles were that sore.

You were quiet in the bathroom as well, not wanting to wake anyone in the living room. You carefully clean your thighs, wiping a damp towel over them, and gently brushing it past your core to clean yourself there as well. Immediately the contact feels a bit painful and you wince, frustration bubbling in you as you breathe deeply, taking a moment to let the pain subside. No matter how many times you try to pretend it isn't true, your body always has a way of reminding you how fragile and delicate it is. With a sigh you finish up, tossing the towel in the hamper, then washing your hands. Making your way back to the library, you open and close the door as carefully as possible, gently settling yourself down on the pull out couch that hadn't been used now in days.

You hadn't had a chance the whole trip to crack open your book, and with the chaos of the previous day some calm, focused reading sounds oh so perfect. You grab it out of your bag and begin reading, the sun slowly brightening as the day starts to bloom. Yunho is still sound asleep, his breaths so gentle you almost forget he is there. Eventually your stomach grumbles and you head out to the kitchen, being met with Seonghwa and Hongjoong sipping their first coffees of the day.

If you're entirely honest, it feels a little uncomfortable seeing them, especially Hongjoong. Though you tried the previous night to just move on, to forget what happened, the tension still lingers, especially now that you know so much of why Hongjoong acted the way he did. You aren't sure if he's told Seonghwa anything yet, and you don't want to say anything that could make things awkward between them, so you decide you'll take your breakfast and head outside, hopefully getting to spend a little more peaceful time by yourself. With a quick hug to both of them you head out to the fire pit, your tea in one hand, breakfast in the other, and book tucked precariously under your arm.

It's refreshing sitting outside by yourself, under the shade of the forest trees, your book the only company you have. You normally spend a lot of time alone, so sometimes on these trips you get a bit overwhelmed by everyone. As the sun begins moving across the sky the day gets warmer, Yunho's hoodie now feeling a bit too heavy. You realize you've been wearing it for days now, and probably should change into something else. But you kick that thought aside, relishing the feeling of being in it. You don't entirely understand your own feelings yet, but something about wearing his clothes feels perfectly right.

"Hey, nerd," you hear Yunho say, lifting your head up to see him walking over towards you, his own breakfast in hand.

"Hi," you respond, smiling at him, but returning to your book. You were just nearing the end of a chapter, and you really wanted to finish it.

"You'd rather read then talk to me?" he jokes, plopping down in a chair next to you.

"Just give me like two minutes," you say, eyes still not leaving the page. Yunho just nods and starts wolfing down his breakfast, glancing over at you occasionally to see if you're really that focused. Apparently, you are, which is something he loves so much. As much as he jokes with you, he finds it precious how lost you get in the things you read.

"Ok, we can talk now," you say brightly, sliding your bookmark into the page you just finished. It makes Yunho chuckle, his eyes bright with adoration.

"I wanted to ask you a question," he says, quickly taking another bite.

"Okay," you respond, not sure where he is headed.

"I wanted to see if you felt okay with everything that's been going on, you know, between us. Make sure I haven't crossed any lines," he says.

"Not at all," you say, looking back at him. You seem reluctant to talk much this morning, which isn't like you, and Yunho feels a bit concerned. But he really wants to know where your head is at; he just honestly didn't think he'd be the one to have to bring this up. You were the one who was so good at talking about your feelings, but you hadn't said anything specific about it yet. Well, maybe you did that night you both said 'I love you,' but nothing had been said since.

"So how are you feeling?" he asks.

"Well my vagina hurts, but otherwise pretty good," you laugh, adjusting yourself in your seat to try to alleviate the soreness.

"It hurts?" he asks, with genuine concern.

"Like it's sore, you know, from last night's activities," you say, cringing at yourself. You didn't feel like you couldn't say 'it's sore from you fucking me so hard,' but some part of you wishes you did.

"In a good way? Or bad way?" he asks.

"Um, kind of both?" you respond, not really sure yourself. "I don't hate it but it's, well, worse than ideal. I have to be careful when I sit," you say, trying to keep yourself from laughing again.

"What's so funny?" he asks you, thankful to see you laughing and not grimacing in pain.

"I just never imagined actually having this conversation with somebody," you say, smiling. You appreciate when ridiculous moments happen, and remind you that life doesn't have to be so serious all the time.

"Was I too rough?" he asks, making you giggle again.

"No, I liked it," you say. "I mean, I guess maybe, I just... I haven't really had this happen before," you say, still laughing. "It's probably cause your dick is, um, so big." You turn to see Yunho fighting to keep a smile off his face at your comment, his head turning away from you for a moment.

"Was it just too hard? Or too long?" he asks, making you burst into laughter harder. "I mean, how I fucked you y/n, not my di- ugh," Yunho covers his face, his cheeks reddening some.

"You're being so funny right now," you say. You can't help but find it terribly adorable how awkward he can sometimes be.

"I'm trying to be serious," he says, fixing you momentarily with a stern grimace, which only makes you both laugh harder. After a few moments you both calm down, making eye contact again.

"For real though, I don't want to hurt you. Was I too rough?" he repeats, truly wanting an answer.

"No, you really weren't. I liked it, I liked it a lot. It felt really good. Sometimes, with the way my body is, I have to sacrifice the future days of pain for doing something I really want to do. Sometimes I feel it's worth it. If I spent my life trying to prevent myself from ever feeling pain, I'd never get to do certain things. And obviously I have to be careful how often I do things like that, because usually it means I have to recover for a day or two, or even longer. But I can do it occasionally. I can deal with pain, extremely well," you finish, emphasizing the last two words.

"But I don't want sex with me to cause you pain," he says, eyeing you. "Is that really worth it to you? Aren't there things we could do that wouldn't hurt you?" he asks.

"Well, honestly part of the problem last night was probably that I just like, put your dick inside me without any warm up. Which was on me, I take full responsibility. But like, if you finger me first, it helps the muscles relax. Just doing that probably would have prevented most of this pain," you say.

"Thank you for telling me that," he says, his mind intently focused on every words coming from your lips.

"I liked what happened though, it was very..." you trail off.

"Feral?" he asks, making you laugh yet again. You put your face in your hands remembering everything, especially the way he grabbed you and flipped you over, and the sounds he made in your ear when he finally came.

"Yeah, I liked that," you giggle, face still hidden. You sigh into yourself, basking in the feeling of this conversation. You never thought you'd be having it with Yunho, and you realize that despite everything you couldn't be more comfortable. He knew you so well, and explaining all of this to someone who didn't know you at all would have been ten times more complicated.

"Y/n, I have to tell you something," he suddenly says, his tone completely different. You quickly put your hands down, turning your body in your chair to face him, as he sets his plate down on the ground, turning to face you as well.

"What is it?" you ask, trying to keep yourself from tensing up.

"I- I don't really know how to say this, I'm sorry if I start rambling. I just, I just need to say this, even though I think you already know, but in case it isn't clear. I-" he takes in a shaky breath, quickly letting it out. "I love you, obviously, I have for many years. But I'm also in love with you, and I don't know if you realized that. That's why certain things just keep coming out of my mouth, when we're having sex, and I'm sorry if it's weird. It doesn't seem to bother you but, I know we hadn't talked about it. I like calling you baby, it feels right, but if you want me to stop, or you want any of this thing, between us, to stop, you just say the word. I don't want anything that I ever do, or say, to make your life worse. You already deal with so much shit all of the time, and it would be my worst nightmare to know that I'm adding to that." Out of nowhere you feel a tear hit your cheek, quickly followed by one hitting your bare thigh. Yunho is staring at the ground between you, not able to stomach seeing your reactions in real time. "Above all I love you, and I want you to be happy, and even if tomorrow you tell me you never want to sleep with me ever again, I'd still love you, I'd still want to live with you and be your friend. I'm serious, I mean that. I would not hold it against you, I would not make things awkward. I don't feel like you owe me anything, at all. But you should also know if you want me to be more than a friend to you, I would gladly oblige. I know I should have probably told you this before we started having sex, but..." finally he trails off, looking up at you.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he says seeing your tears, thinking he's upset you.

"No, don't apologize," you squeak out, trying to get ahold of your breathing.

"What's wrong?" he asks, coming to kneel next to you, taking your hands in his.

"I- I don't know," you croak, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You truly don't know why you suddenly burst into tears, after having such a calm morning. What Yunho said was sweet, unbelievably so. Your head spins, all the conversations from yesterday again playing through your head, like twenty radios going at the same time. It's incredibly overwhelming when your brain does this, and you grab your ears momentarily to try to make it stop. Yunho wipes the tears from your cheeks, sitting patiently as you calm yourself, as you finally wipe what you think are the last of the tears with the sleeves of his hoodie.

And when you finally look up you're met with big brown eyes that feel like they're looking into the depths of your soul, making your heart ache with a feeling so intense you can't name it. Suddenly the world slows, everything stops. It's just him and you, in this vast forest, and everything feels alright, like it's meant to be. Suddenly you're not feeling your sticky sweaty skin under the hoodie, or the ache in your core. You can't feel any of it when sat in front of you is your favorite person in the entire world. It hits you like a train, that realization. You'd never get over how kind he was to spend nights in the hospital with you, when you were so out of it you hardly remembered a thing. You could have said anything; you knew you acted strange when you were there. But still he was there for you, still he treated you the same. This beautiful, tall, talented man who could have been doing anything he wanted with his life. You could imagine doing everything with him, imagine living with him forever. You couldn't trust him more or respect him more if you tried. You realized the myriad dialogues playing out in your head had gone away, left with only one; a part of you, screaming at the top of her little lungs, 'how did it take you this long to realize?!'

"I'm-I'm so sorry I didn't see it sooner," you stutter, leaning down to hug him, to hold him tight. You have so much you want to say to him, but it's hard to get words out with how overwhelmed you feel.

"Shh, it's okay," Yunho comforts you, holding your head in the crook of his neck.

"I love you too," you say, struggling to find the right words. "I mean, more than platonically, I love you. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize it."

"I thought, maybe, that was the case," he says, chuckling into your hair.

"So even you figured that out before I did?" you ask, huffing out a laugh.

"What do you mean, even me?" he responds. You sit up to look at him again, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"Literally all of our friends knew we liked each other before I did," you say, like it's groundbreaking news.

"Does that surprise you?" he asks, incredulous.

"Well, yeah," you respond.

"They always do that though, don't they? I mean we all knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa liked each other since forever ago, it was just a thing. Sometimes I feel like they know me better than I know myself." You nod in response. It was definitely true with your friend group, time and time again.

"But Yunho, if you thought I liked you why didn't you ask me about it earlier?" you ask.

"I didn't want to put you in an awkward spot," he says, stroking his hand comfortingly down your arm.

"But, wait, how long have you suspected I like you?" you ask.

"Um, a while," he says, trying to think. "I don't remember exactly, but probably the last year or so."

"Year??" you ask, genuinely shocked. "How- what made you think that?"

"The way you are with me, when you're sick. I don't think you realize the things you say..." he trails off, grabbing your hands in his again.

"Oh god, what have I said to you?" you groan, trying to look away.

"It's nothing embarrassing, I swear. You just become so clingy with me, in a different way than you are with Seonghwa. Like, in a literal sense, not wanting me to let you go. You've asked me to sleep in your hospital bed before, and nurses have to kindly ask me to move so I'm not in the way. You will sometimes cry about how worried you are that I'll leave you, in a way that made it feel like we were already together. One time you said you were scared I'd stop loving you because of how sick you were. You'll profess your love for me, beg me to stay with you forever. Things like that."

"That sounds intense," you say, imagining it from his perspective. You shudder at the thought, a part of you feeling sick at how overwhelming it must be to care for someone like you.

"Well, yeah," he responds.

"I'm sor-"

"No. Don't do that." He grabs you tightly again, wrapping you in his arms. "I'm grateful for it all. I'm just so glad we finally talked about this. I'll always love you, no matter what happens. I want you to always remember that."

You nod into his shoulder, squeezing him tightly, just as you hear some foot steps approaching.

"Hi guys, I'm sorry to interrupt," Ari starts, speaking gently. You both break apart to give her your attention. "Can I borrow a pad, or a tampon or something?" she asks you, fidgeting. "I don't know why, but my period started today when it wasn't supposed to till like, next Tuesday."

"Oh my god, of course," you say immediately. "They should just be in my bag, easy to find. Feel free to grab whatever you need. Oh and my Tylenol, it might be in the bathroom if it's not in my bag."

"Thank you so much, you're a life saver," she says over her shoulder as she heads back in quickly, nearly breaking into a run. This cabin is messing with our hormones, you think. At first the thought amuses you, but then it feels scary too. Because what if everything that had happened between you and Yunho here, wouldn't feel the same back home? What if your feelings would change? It had taken the chaotic events of this trip to bring them to the surface, and would the monotony and business of real life bury them again?

There's also the possibility that it was inevitable, that all along this was going to happen. It certainly seems that everyone else thinks that, and that offers you some reassurance. But you can't help your own doubts, and your intense fear of what this means. It's all finally in the open, your feelings at least. But will you actually date? There is so much to discuss, and although he knows a lot, Yunho doesn't know the full of extent of your health issues. How much it can affect you, randomly for weeks or even months, how your sex drive changes, your moods change, your likes and dislikes even, if complicated medical issues are happening. You know you're bound to be pissed at him, to not want his attentions sometimes. You know he's bound to be way busier than you; which could be a good thing, you remind yourself. But if spending less time together feels almost relieving in a way, then is dating really the right thing to do? Maybe relationships with other people in general aren't really something you're built for. It's not like you've made many friends since high school, and the ones you have are almost exclusively online. You feel your soreness again, like a stabbing reminder of how messed up your body is.

"What are you thinking about?" Yunho asks you, cutting off your train of thought. It takes you a few moments, but you manage to collect your thoughts.

"Do do you realize how sick I am?" you ask, your voice small.

"What do you mean?" The look he gives you is one of genuine care. It makes your heart flutter.

"I- just- I don't know what this is going to be going forward, but like, I can't date someone in the normal way. No, that's not a good way of putting it," you sigh into your hands. Gathering yourself you start again. "Dating me isn't even like dating someone with a diagnosed disease or disability. My health issues are ever changing, and none of them have been truly figured out. Obviously I've fainted since I was young, but sometimes I go through periods where I barely do at all, and then other times it's super frequent. Sometimes I randomly develop an allergy to a new food, and I have to basically obsessively read through every item I buy at the grocery store to make sure I'm not accidentally injesting it. There was a time, three years ago, when I had no desire for anything sexual for like, half a year. My periods were so bad, and everything down there just always felt weird and it hurt, and I literally thought I might never feel horny ever again. These things just, happen, and there's no way for me to predict them. And it would mean that, being with me, would be different," you finish, with a huge sigh.

"I know all of that already," Yunho says, sighing himself.

"But, so- what do you want to happen?" you ask, finally getting to crux of what you wanted to know.

"Whatever you want," he says.

"That's not true, that can't be," you say, feeling dubious. "There must be something specific that you want."

"I want to date you," he says. "But I knew you might not want that, because of everything you have going on. So whatever you're willing to do, I'm in."

"Yunho," you sigh, frustrated. Frustrated because those words feel too good to be true, and as much as you trust him in so many ways, a part of you still wants to run away in doubt. It's a huge deal, trusting someone with this part of you, and it's just hit you now that you've been sleeping with him, in more ways than one, and you haven't batted an eye. If he ever did something, in any scenario but especially a sexual one, that hurt you, it would be so hard to recover. Things had happened in the past to make you understand that. You were so determined to never let those things happen again, that you'd basically stopped dating or even thinking about it. You could physically please yourself, and have your friendships to give you companionship. You'd never felt very centered on romantic relationships anyway. You had so written off the possibility of developing another romantic relationship that you'd stumbled into one without much of a thought. It made you feel so stupid, so immature. It was hard not to scream at yourself internally.

"What do you want to happen?" he asks you, placing a hand on your knee comfortingly.

"I- I don't want to lose you," you say, sighing into yourself. "And I don't want to get hurt. I don't want- I- I don't know."

"I won't hurt you," he says, squeezing your knee.

"I know you'd never intend to, but you can't guarantee that," you say. "And I can't guarantee I won't hurt you, either."

"Isn't it still worth it?" he asks.

"It depends what we decide to do," you say, eyes soft.

"I love you," he says again. It's all he can think to say right now, seeing how much you seem to be spiraling. And it works; it brings you back down into your body, into the chair you're sitting on. Suddenly you feel heavy, like the weight of all of your thoughts crashed down on you in an instant.

"I love you too," you say, nearly tearing up again. "This got way too serious and heavy," you say, trying to shake loose the dread starting to fill your veins.

"Why don't we do something fun today, then?" he asks.

"Like what?" you ask, nodding your head.

"Do you want to go to the falls, just the two of us? I felt bad you couldn't really join in the other day when we all went. If you feel up to it," he says.

"That sounds perfect," you reply, smiling at him. You're thankful he seems okay leaving the conversation where it was. You could feel yourself coming undone a bit, your thoughts running out of control, and you knew there was truly no use in continuing. You needed to reset, to calm down, and Yunho's suggestion seemed like just the thing to make you feel right again.

***

Inside you both change into your swimsuits, grabbing towels and water and snacks for your journey. Yunho liberally applies sunscreen to your body, obviously enjoying the proximity, but also genuinely wanting to protect your skin. You burn extremely easily, and sunburns always make you feel exhausted for days.

"Everyone, the two of us are going to the falls," he announces to the room as you head towards the back door. "Follow at your own risk. Consider this your official warning," he says, eyeing everyone, making you giggle at the implication. He hopes they know what he means.

You take the walk slowly, again picking flowers from the path and putting them in his hair. It's hard for you to resist your little habit, given just how beautiful the landscape is out here. You love the wilderness, but your friends and family and life are in the city, so you cherish your moments out in nature when you can. Especially when you get to place flowers in Yunho's shaggy hair, that you absolutely love. You still haven't told him that, and it gnaws at you now that things are different between you. It wasn't something you would have necessarily thought to tell him before. You generally avoided having strong opinions about others' appearances because you just didn't feel it was your place. But your opinions about his clothes, his hair, had always been a bit stronger. You'd certainly noticed it from time to time, that you reacted when he borrowed his dad's suit for a wedding, or when he'd cut his hair a certain way. Maybe a part of you felt awkward about telling him that, in a way you wouldn't about any of your other friends. You'd justified to yourself that you never said anything because he didn't care about those things either, so you didn't need to say it. But now you realized, maybe it was because you felt nervous. Because there were lingering feelings there that you weren't really aware of.

"I really like your hair right now," you blurt out, not wanting to wait any longer. You were done being distant from your feelings, not understanding them when it came to him. It was too important to you now.

"Oh, really?" he asks you, turning to you with a smile as you near the lake. "The other day my mom said I desperately need a haircut," he laughs.

"No, I like it long like this," you say, admiring your work. You know the flowers will disappear as soon as he dives in the falls, but for now they're beautiful.

"Then I'm keeping it," he says, sighing contentedly as you finally reach your destination.

The falls are beautiful today, the sky bright and blue reflected in the sparkly clear water. You set your things down on a smooth rock, far enough from the edge that they won't fall in. Quickly Yunho dives in, and you follow after him much more carefully, gently lowering yourself into the wonderfully chilly water. The temperature is a welcome pairing with the heat of the day, and you sigh, taking a deep breath before finally dunking your head under. You swim out towards the actual waterfall, breathing in the mist that forms at the bottom, the sound nearly deafening when you're so close. But it feels electric; moments like these always do, when your body is well enough for you to be out experiencing something intoxicating and brilliant. Yunho sidles up beside you, pulling you with him as he ducks through the water to come behind the fall. Behind there is a small cave, invisible to the outside world, with light bouncing across the ceiling as water droplets skip along the surface, finding their final resting place after their journey over the cliff.

Yunho's hands are on you quickly, as you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He's holding you up, making it so you don't have to do any work, so that you can just breathe deep and enjoy the peace of the cave. In the water your bodies move slowly, sensually, and it makes you want to touch him as closely as you can. His wet hair sticks to his forehead, water beading down his face and shoulders. The gentle light dances across his face, and the steady sound from the falling water is almost hypnotizing. Your lips are on his before you know it, and it feels just right to open your mouth as he sucks on your bottom lip, letting out a soft moan. His hands are groping you, holding you up by your ass, snaking underneath your bikini bottoms. In here it truly feels like only you and him exist, and you release into that feeling, into the realization of just how strong your feelings for him are. You keep kissing him, small pecks of love, running your fingers through his hair and brushing it out of his face. You tug on it gently, not knowing if he likes that but so intoxicated by the pleasure you're feeling. Yunho groans, making you tug harder, your breathing speeding up from his reaction.

"I wanna fuck you out here," he says over the rushing water, his lips swollen from the kiss. You groan, grinding your hips into his as you lick across his lower lip, coaxing his mouth open again. Your tongues swipe over each other, you both incredibly hungry for more.

"Follow me," he says, starting to make his way back out of the cave. The bright sun feels shocking for a moment when you exit the dimness of the cave, but it feels wonderful. Like you've been transported back to literal paradise. You follow behind him as he swims towards the muddy bank of the lake, the part that boarders a bunch of trees and is relatively shady. When you arrive he lifts you up, sitting you down on the side of the lake where he can reach you.

His lips are back on yours in moments, his hands now able to explore the entirety of your bikini, snaking underneath your top to feel your chest, rubbing his thumbs enticingly over your nipples that are already hard from the cool water. A gentle breeze blows through the woods, making your wet skin feel cold. Your body shivers, from the breeze and from Yunho's touch, and you sigh in pleasure.

"Can I take this off?" Yunho asks as he tugs at your bikini, and you nod, starting to help him remove it. "Wait," he stops you, just for a moment. "You don't really answer me, when we're having sex. Do you like being so non-verbal?"

You just nod in response, showing him just how much it's true.

"Do you like me telling you what to do? Or do you want me to ask?" he continues.

"Either," you say, managing one word.

"And you'd tell me if you didn't like something?" he asks.

"Of course," you answer, feeling it's important. "I just don't like having to talk too much."

"I understand," Yunho nods, taking in your answer. He actually finds it incredibly hot, but again, it's not really something you've fully talked through yet. He so badly wants to know that he isn't hurting you, ever.

"Take this off then," he says, gently tugging on your bikini before pulling back from you. You throw it on the bank behind you, and it falls between two flowers in the grass.

Your feet sink into the mud as he pulls your legs again towards him, gently pushing them open. With your arms behind you, and bare chest to the sky, your naked body is on full display. Yunho's hands trace over the entirety of you, his legs still in the water as he kneels down, bringing himself closer to your center. He eyes your cunt hungrily, and it makes you throb, just how much his demeanor changes when he's finally truly in control. Your whole body buzzes from your surroundings, from the knowledge that you're in the wide open air and anyone could see.

"You like being naked in the forest, don't you," he says, seeing the way you so freely tossed your clothing, how comfortably you bore yourself to the world. You blush and giggle, soaking in the smells of the forest and grass behind you.

Yunho's hands slink down your thighs, finally coming to gently brush over your slit, when you jolt back in pain. The wimper that escapes you is pathetic, the realization of just how sensitive your pussy still is hitting you. It makes you upset, almost irrationally so.

"What's wrong baby?" he asks, immediately coming to comfortingly stroke your cheek.

"She hurts," you pout, looking down.

"Does she need a break today?" he asks.

"I guess," you say, frowning dramatically.

"That's okay baby, you don't need to be upset," he says, pulling you into a hug.

"But I want to do stuff," you whine into his shoulder.

"If your body needs a break, then we should give it a break," he says logically, making you roll your eyes. You feel petulant, and just want this time at the falls to be perfect.

"Is there anything that would help her feel better?" he asks, stroking a hand down your back.

"You could massage her," you say, smiling into him.

"What do you mean? Inside or outside?" he asks. You know it doesn't really make sense, the idea of massaging a pussy. But it makes sense to you.

"Just outside like, real gentle," you say, your voice small.

Yunho pulls back, gently bringing his hand down to your slit again. You inhale sharply at the initial contact, your body reacting without your control. But soon his methodical, slow movements up and down start to feel good. You body finally relaxes into it, your head dropping back as you soak in the warmth of the air. Yunho continues moving his fingers up and down, over and over brushing gently over your clit when he reaches the apex of his movements. The pleasure grows steadily each time and soon you're moaning softly, dropping to your elbows and spreading your legs even wider as your body starts to revel in the feeling.

"Does it feel good baby?" he asks you, and you nod your head, whining in response. He moves his thumb up to focus on your clit, gathering the wetness from your entrance and spreading it around. He adds more pressure to his small circular movements, the focus making your clit feel hot and sensitive. Waves of pleasure run down your legs and race up your abdomen, making your body feel sizzling hot in the summer air. You arch your back further, pushing yourself harder into his fingers, chasing the pleasure.

"You want more?" he asks, making you mewl in response. "I know you can take more baby, even if you're sore. Relax your pussy for me," he says before lining up his other hand, gently gathering more of your wetness on his middle finger before pushing it inside of you. You gasp instantaneously, again wincing at the initial pain. But with his other hand working your clit the pain quickly leaves you, your insides feeling like they're melting from the pleasure. His long fingers feel like they reach all the way inside of you, all the way into your guts, and it feels electric. Your breathing is ragged, your awareness no where else but your core and his fingers. "Good, you're so relaxed for me. I knew you could take it," he says, slowly pumping his finger in and out, focusing on putting pressure on that spongy sensitive spot that feels the best. "That feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, and you moan in response, almost whimpering. It makes blood rush to his cock seeing you so engrossed in how good you feel, the way you can so fully submit to him and your body and all the pleasure it gives you. "You need more," he says, no longer asking. He adds another finger, careful at first to not stretch you painfully fast. Once he can tell your body is ready for it he pumps faster, still focused on adding pressure in the right places.

Your moans are higher pitched now, your clit feeling red hot with pleasure. Your pussy is still sore but it feels so good, his movements mimicking the night before but not as rough, your body remembering everything that had transpired between the two of you the past few days. It's like everything with him; it builds, slowly, and suddenly you realize it's the best feeling in the world having him in control like this, able to read your body perfectly. A true dream come true, and it makes your head fuzzy with desire as you realize just how much you like it when he touches you all over, when he takes you out to a lake in the wide open air and touches you where anyone could see. Your careful, boring life would never have anyone suspect you like this and yet he could see, he knew. It almost feels fated that you went down this path, not knowing for so long what your true feelings were. Truly, how could this get any bett-

"Baby, stop thinking," Yunho says, bringing you back to him. And in a moment you're coming, the feeling ripping through you from your clit, making your whole body tingly with warmth and pleasure. The tightening muscles of your core are sore, but still clamp down around Yunho's fingers as you ride it out, your hips rolling to meet his movements. "Good girl, good girl," he repeats in your ear, or at least it feels like he's whispering into your ear, your eyes closed and taking in every sound so vividly. You finally lay fully flat on your back, riding out the last of your orgasm, your body limp and relaxed against the dirt and grass on the bank. Finally you blink open to look at him, seeing the blown pupils you love so much, taking his hand off your clit with a small 'too much.' He smiles at you, stroking that hand across your stomach and leaning down to kiss you, hungrily coaxing your mouth open and then pulling back to suck on your bottom lip.

***

And unbeknownst to both of you, Wooyoung watched on from behind a tree, his hand down his pants as he palms his painfully hard cock, trying to offer himself some relief. He understood Yunho's implication a mile away, and after spending a long time coming up with a good excuse, trekked his way up the hill to find you two. He really was getting incessantly horny on this trip, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary given his typical predisposition to horniness. But something on this trip especially, the amount of sex happening around him, made him feel insatiable.

As he crested the small hill before the lake he saw you two immediately, saw Yunho's hands under your bathing suit and your head thrown back in pleasure, the perfect curve of Yunho's back as he leaned into you, his hands possessively roaming. Wooyoung felt himself getting hard immediately, especially as he snuck around to between the trees, the threat of being caught adding to the arousal pooling in his pants. He saw you two talking, saw some exchange happen. And then your were stripping off your bikini, throwing it behind you, and your naked body was bare to the sky. He'd told you a million times how hot you were, and you usually laughed it off; but he truly meant it. Though he couldn't hear any of the words between you he could sense your submission and the way Yunho was taking control, the way he comforted you when you seemed to be in pain, and the way he reached down again and touched you differently. Wooyoung wished he could experience Yunho's domination, how kind and gentle it was. It wasn't his usual style, not what he usually wanted. But something about seeing the two of you together made him ever so slightly jealous; it made him think of the woman he was now involved with, how he missed her hands on him.

His hand provided him some pleasure but it just wasn't enough, just couldn't satisfy him the way he needed. His dick was hard and leaking in his shorts, and the longer he watched he just didn't care anymore; he pushed them down, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his pleasure, not caring when he heard some twigs snap under his foot. The pleasure was good, so good, but he knew it couldn't be enough for him. Did he just watch you come? God he needed the feel of someone else, the intensity of fucking another person. He needed a better look at you, needed to see all that he could, so he stepped beside the tree, a larger branch snapping under his weight and echoing against the cliff, making Yunho's head snap up.

"Wooyoung, Jesus Christ," Yunho laughed, lifting himself off of you and helping you sit up, his two fingers still inside you.

"Oh my god, Woo," you laughed too, seeing his boner even all these feet away. It made you feel good, your core clenching a moment as your realized he'd been watching.

"Sorry, I-" Wooyoung sputtered, not sure what to say. Desperately he pulled up his shorts, his cock creating an obvious tent in the material. You both keep laughing, looking over at his pathetic face, his cheeks red from being caught. Painfully, it turned him on even more, the way you both were laughing at him. "This isn't fair," he whined, trying to look away from your naked bodies.

"What do you mean?" you asked him, still laughing.

"I'm fucking horny," he whined again, his tone still pitiful, but the smirk on his face betrayed just how much he was loving this. "And you guys just keep laughing at me; I'm not even trying to be funny."

"What are you trying to do then?" Yunho asked, eyeing him.

"I-" he started, stopping himself.

"Woo, just say it," you giggled, loving every moment of seeing Wooyoung like this.

"I'm trying to- I need someone to fuck me," he blurted out, finally.

"And you're hoping it'll be me?" you jokingly batted your eyelashes at him, making his head feel fuzzy. "Or, him?" you asked, pointing at Yunho.

"Either of you, I don't care," Woo responded, his whole body flushed with how turned on he was.

"You don't prefer me?" you asked, acting like you were hurt.

"Y/n," Wooyoung groaned, his hand coming put to cover his face. "I know you're fucking with me," he sighed, trying to collect himself.

"Yeah, stop messing with poor horny Wooyoung," Yunho laughed, his hand still inside you. He liked feeling the way your pussy clenched as you teased Wooyoung; you clearly loved doing it, and he filed that thought away for later.

"You both suck," Wooyoung groaned, carefully untangling his shoe from the broken branch, making his way back towards the trail.

"Woo, maybe just ask someone instead of sneaking up on them," Yunho called, his tone light as he chuckled. Neither of you really minded his intrusion, it just probably wasn't the way he was going to succeed at his little mission.

Tumbling down the trail Wooyoung almost broke into a run, adrenaline from the conversation he'd just finished coursing through him. As he neared the cabin he tried to slow down, steadying his breaths as he spotted Mingi shooting hoops by himself, shirtless and no doubt sweaty in the afternoon heat. Taking Yunho's advice he decided to play it as cool as he could, approaching Mingi with a clear goal instead of messily stumbling up a mountain in a pure horny haze.

"Mingi!" he called out, making his way over towards the court.

"Hey Woo," Mingi replied, passing him the basketball. Wooyoung wound up, missing the basket completely, the ball bouncing away into the grass.

"You really are terrible at shooting," Mingi laughed, jogging over to pick up the ball.

"Not nice," Wooyoung pouted, his arms crossing over his chest. "I'm very good at plenty of other things," he stated, jutting out a hip.

"Oh, sure you are," Mingi joked. You weren't the only one who enjoyed messing with Wooyoung; in fact, it was kind of a default setting for most of you. It was just too fun, seeing him get all flustered and bothered in the way that he did. The crazy thing was Mingi hadn't even seen Woo's shorts yet, too focused on retrieving the basketball a moment ago.

"I am," Wooyoung fixed Mingi with a steely gaze, just as Mingi wound up for a shot. The ball bounced off the backboard, headed straight for Wooyoung, but he didn't even bother catching it as he continued to stare Mingi down.

"Woo, what are you- oh my god," Mingi laughed, finally seeing the tent in his shorts. "Did I do that?" he joked, pointing. Wooyoung's face grew pink again, that feeling of being caught doing something bad returning in full force.

"Well, yeah," Woo responded, snaking his eyes down Mingi's entire body. "You're out here playing basketball shirtless, how was I supposed to react?"

Mingi smiled and laughed, honestly flattered by Woo's admission. "So you had an anterior motive, you didn't actually want to play with me?" he asked, jogging to the back of the court to pick up the ball Woo had let go.

"Mingi, I'm horny," Wooyoung groaned, eyeing him pathetically.

"I'm shocked," Mingi responded, laughing again.

"Mingi," Woo groaned again. "I need someone to help me, to, take care of it," he mumbled, his body tingling with embarrassment.

"Just go jack off, if it's that bad," Mingi replied, shooting the basketball again. It was all so casual to him, this conversation not affecting him the way Wooyoung hoped. Well, that was a failed attempt. Grumbling something incoherent Wooyoung walked away, heading towards the back of the house until he spotted Seonghwa and Hongjoong out by the trees, laying together in the grass. He walked his way over, determined to play it right this time.

"Hi guys," he said brightly, finally coming upon them to see Hongjoong on top of Seonghwa, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. They were more tangled together than Wooyoung realized, and he braced for the response.

"Oh my god, Woo, you fucking scared me," Hongjoong sputtered, lifting himself enough to look at him. "What's up?" he asked, confused by the sudden interruption.

"How- how are you guys, doing?" Wooyoung asked hesitantly, trying to tread lightly.

"Um, good. We're kind of in the middle of something," Hongjoong replied, Seonghwa holding back a laugh underneath him.

"I know, I- um-" Woo stuttered, not able to come out with it.

"Woo, is something wrong?" Hongjoong asked, getting annoyed.

"No, I'm-"

"Okay then what are you doing! We're clearly in the middle of something!" he nearly yelled, his dick hard in his pants and frustrated with the lack of action he was getting. Wooyoung pouted, the sharp sound of Hongjoong's voice penetrating through him. He liked being yelled at like that.

"He probably wants to join us," Seonghwa laughed, his body still lax against the grass.

"Oh, I should have guessed," Hongjoong replied, laughing too. A moment lapsed, the two of them giggling into each other, before their faces came close again. But just before they could kiss again Seonghwa held his hand against Hongjoong's shoulder, stopping him.

"Woo, seriously, we want to spend some quality time just the two of us," Seonghwa said, his voice gentle but his demand clear.

"God, all of you suck," Wooyoung huffed before turning on his heel, stalking his way back towards the cabin. He now had his sights set on the bathroom, his needs growing too severely now for him to keep wasting time hoping that one of you would join him. It was time to deal with this himself, even if it wouldn't compare to what he really wanted.

When he busted through the door he didn't even consider acting normal for everyone; his desperation was too severe. Ari noticed his strange demeanor right away, pulling him aside in the hallway.

"What's wrong?" he asked, her voice soft.

"Nothing, nothing," Wooyoung replied, trying not to be driven crazy by how attentive she was being. God, he really just needed to lock himself in that bathroom and get this shit over with.

"Woo, clearly it's something," she said eyeing his crotch, wracking her brain for what exactly it could be.

"I really shouldn't have worn these damn shorts," Woo sighed, shaking his head at just how poor his choice was. They truly were the worst, the thin grey material leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. "Sorry, I'm just so horny right now and no one I asked was willing to, uh, sleep with me," he laughed. Saying it out loud made him realize how silly it all was, some of his tension melting away.

"Woo, I-" Ari looked over to San, seeing him engrossed in a conversation with Yeosang and Jongho. "Give me a sec, stay right here," she said before grabbing San, pulling him into their shared bedroom for a quick conversation. Soon she had returned, Wooyoung waiting patiently with his hands covering his crotch as he tried to act as normal as possible.

"Woo, come with me," Ari beckoned, holding out her hand. He grabbed it, following diligently towards the master bedroom. Once inside Ari sat him on a chair, her and San facing him while they sat on their bed.

"Woo, you seem very in need, and well, we're offering to help you," Ari started, not a single awkward pause tainting her sentence.

"Wait, really?" Woo asked looking between the two of them, absolutely shocked. They were the last people he'd ever have thought would be open to this, mostly because he'd never even met San and had no way of knowing what sort of thing he was into. But even Ari, she'd never seemed like the kind of person who'd want to share.

"Yes really. We can, tonight, if you want to," she finished, San nodding along. They'd actually discussed this possibility of this exact scenario about a month before, both laughing at the time about how unlikely it was to really happen. But they both found Wooyoung attractive, and decided they wouldn't rule out the idea of messing around with him together. At that time San had only seen pictures and spoken to Woo on the phone a few times; still, his interest was piqued.

"I-" Woo stuttered again, his words failing him badly with how fuzzy his head had felt for nearly the entire afternoon. "I don't know if, if my girlfriend will like it," he suddenly blurted out, surprising everyone, including himself.

"You have a girlfriend?" Ari asked.

"Yeah, that woman Mingi told you guys about, that choreographer," he responded.

"So things are really that serious, between you two?" Ari asked, so curious. There was no judgement in her tone, this was just truly a bit out of character for Wooyoung.

"We haven't discussed it yet," Woo replied, his own eyes still wide.

"Why didn't you invite her to come along?" San asked him, smiling at how genuine Woo's surprise clearly was.

"I- I didn't even think to," Wooyoung sighed, shaking his head.

"You should text her, we've still got a few days. And aren't your cousins leaving tomorrow morning? That'll free up some space on the couches," Ari said, smiling genuinely at Wooyoung.

"Fuck, I should," Woo smiled, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly. "I'm sorry guys, I hope I'm not making you feel rejected or anything, by saying no. I'd gladly fuck both of you, any day," he finished, making them both laugh.

"Don't apologize Woo, it's no big deal. Go, go text her," Ari responded, shooing Wooyoung out of the room. It was honestly so adorable how genuine Wooyoung was being, so careful with this woman's feelings, and it made Ari so happy to see her friend experiencing what all of you had wanted for him for so long.

***

The day pulled to an end, the sun starting to fall beyond the tree line, covering the sky in a beautiful subtle shade of orange. S'mores were on the menu tonight, the whole group of you gathered around the fire pit as Yunho and Mingi stoked the fire, their faces lit up with the brilliant light of the flames. You sat wrapped up in Yunho's hoodie again, yawning hard as you shivered in the cold air of the night. Earlier, when you'd finally made it back to the cabin, you'd realized your skin was burnt, and it only took a few hours for the exhaustion to start setting in. So much for trying to be careful, you thought. But it really was worth it today, getting to spend all that time alone with Yunho.

"How was everyone's day?" Ari asks from San's lap, a blanket wrapped around the two of them.

"So good," you smile at her, and she waggled her eyebrows at you, making you laugh. "I wish I could go to that waterfall, like, every weekend," you say, a murmur of agreement passing through the group.

"I'm sure Wooyoung wishes you could do that too," Yunho adds, looking over at Wooyoung with a smirk.

"Do tell," Ari prompts him, seeing clearly he has a story to share.

"Well, Woo came and interrupted me and y/n while we were, you know, in the middle of the things out by the lake. It was funny," he laughs, smiling at you.

"He did the same to us," Hongjoong responds, making both you and Yunho's eyebrows jump up.

"Woo I told you not to sneak up on anyone else," Yunho chastises him, laughing harder.

"Damn Woo, you really asked everyone today," Mingi laughs, smirking.

"You all are such cunts," Wooyoung responds, fighting back the laughter himself. "You just keep rubbing it in my damn face how you're having sex every goddamn day we're here."

"I haven't been," Mingi retorts, earning an eye roll form Wooyoung.

"Okay well you're rubbing it in my face how perfect your body is, so yeah, you still qualify as a cunt," Wooyoung responds.

"Did you text your girlfriend Woo?" Ari asks.

"Girlfriend?" you ask, looking at him expectantly.

"Yes, girlfriend. And yes I did; she said she has to check her schedule but she's probably coming tomorrow," Woo responds, looking almost nervous.

"Oh my god Woo, this is so exciting!" Ari responds.

"Wait, are you two like, together together? Officially?" you ask. Woo nods, that shy smile not leaving his lips.

"Look at him, he's growing up," Seonghwa sighs, making you all laugh. There is a palpable relief washing through the group, at seeing Wooyoung willing to explore a relationship again after swearing everything about love off so long ago. High school relationships can be so scarring, and a big part of you felt so thankful you never even considered dating at that age, despite at the time feeling like you were missing out on something to integral to growing up.

"And what's the deal with you two?" Ari eyes you and Yuho, smiling at the way your eyes can't even meet hers.

"We haven't talked about it yet, we'll tell you guys in our own time," Yunho responds, not angry by any means but firm enough to shut down the line of inquiry.

"Things are good," you add, seeing the curious looks of everyone.

"Your boyfriend is really cool, by the way," Jongho says to Ari, earning a small chorus of 'so true' and 'I agree' from the group.

"Thank you, that's so nice to hear," Ari responds, snuggling closer in San's lap. "You always worry what people will think of your boyfriend, especially your favorite people."

"He seems basically perfect," you say, Ari's face lighting up with a smile. San has finally lost the battle with himself, his own face curling into a shy smile that makes his dimples pop.

"Aw look, he's blushing!" Mingi calls, making you all break into giggles once again. "Here, who wants the first one?" he asks holding up a toasty marshmallow, Wooyoung holding out his plate of graham crackers and chocolate. "Be careful guys, they're gonna be really hot," he says as he pops another marshmallow on his stick, carefully holding it the perfect distance above the now-steady fire. Eventually you all have hot marshmallows on your plate, the chocolate melty inside the delicious sugary sandwich you all are enjoying. Well, everyone except you has melty chocolate, because of course chocolate was one of those pesky things you couldn't eat. Still you enjoyed the treat, resting your head against the back of your chair as you all chowed down, the group falling into near silence.

"She said she can come tomorrow morning," Wooyoung suddenly announces after checking his phone, the light from the sun nearly totally gone now. You all murmur in approval, genuinely excited to meet this woman who your dear friend so cares about. Soon everyone is done, wiping their faces as they finish the last of their s'mores, the fire slowly starting to die as Yunho and Mingi let it burn out. In the darkness of the night you can see so many starts, the sight always taking your breath away when you have the chance to see it. You lay staring up for a while, trying to find the constellations you know, your eyes eventually feeling too heavy to hold open. Soon you're woken from your slumber by Yunho, as he carries you inside to properly go to bed, your head resting against his shoulder as he carries you. You're out moments after snuggling into the soft sheets of your bed nook, your mind enveloped in a comforting darkness after the wonderful day you'd just had.

[kayhi808]

I got an ask for ya. I don't think anyone has asked this but I apologize if answered this...

What about if Mama gets pregnant? Will Abbie Rose be happy? How will Bucky react? Maybe he thought he would be able to get Mama pregnant because of his Hydra past. U can do with this what u will. Thank u, and I love our little family. Superb writing as always. B

Thank you, B!! 🥰 Wow! There's so much here to work with. Someone did ask about Abby being a big sister. In theory, she's so excited...in reality there might be big adjustment / jealousy issues our little family will need to work through. I'll try to find a link. Proud Papa Toys for New Baby

You're sitting on the bathroom floor, the chill from the tiles seeping into your skin. Tears silently tracking down your cheeks. You just finished a battle with nausea & dry heaves.

You jump at the light knocking on the bathroom door, "Doll? Are you ok?" Bucky could hear your heavings & stuttered breath. "Can I come in?" He tries the door and it's locked. He's about to panic when he hears the soft click of the lock. He slowly opens the door to find you on the floor & he closes the door, not wanting Abby to see you like this. "What's wrong?" Kneeling by your side, rubbing little circles onto your back.

"I got sick."

"Do you want me to take you to the med bay?" After the wedding, you and Abby moved into The Tower with Bucky.

"I'm also...late."

"Late for what?" You roll your eyes and cry harder. "Oh. OH!"

"I'm about 2 1/2 weeks late and..and I just threw up. I didn't think too much about being late because the stress of the wedding, moving here..."

In a stunned whisper, "And I told you I couldn't have children."

"You said that with HYDRA...the serum..."

"Its not possible."

"You're the only man I've been with! If I'm pregnant, the baby is yours."

Bucky frowns at you, "Of course the baby is mine! Did you think I'd question that?!"

"I don't know! I'm just scared."

"Shit," gathering you in his arms, "Doll, you're so..."

"Don't call me crazy!"

Kissing you on the forehead, "Wouldn't dream of it." His hand rest on your abdomen. "Do you really think you could be pregnant?"

Your sobs turn to hiccups, "I think I am."

Bucky picks you up and carries you back to bed, "We'll get you tested first thing in the morning, but for now, try and get more sleep. Don't worry about Abby, I'll get her ready for school & drop off. Get your rest." He pulls you back up against him. His hand still resting on your belly.

******

"Any word?" You jump at the sound of Bucky's voice from your doorway. "Sorry."

"Not yet." Bucky leans down for a kiss.

"Were you able to keep anything down today?"

"I had toast and some soup. I'm good." Your phone rings and caller ID say it's Dr. Cho. "It's her! It's her!"

Bucky runs back to shut the door & rushes to your side. "Mrs. Barnes."

"Hi Dr. Cho. I have you on speakerphone, Bucky is here."

"Sargent Barnes. Congratulations are in order." Both you and Bucky turn to each other wide eyed. "Baby Barnes should arrive early February of next year."

"Oh my God."

"Holy Fuck," you swat Bucky's arm. "Sorry! That's great news! Thank you so much."

"It is great news but I will be classifying this as a high risk pregnancy. We don't know the effects the serum will have on the baby. You'll need to be monitored closely."

"Of course, whatever you think is best!"

"I'll have a checkup calendar sent to you and Sgt Barnes."

"Yes, thank you so much!" You hang up the phone and Bucky's already swept you up in his arms.

"I put a baby in you." He laughs, "A super baby."

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly

[blingblong55]

My kind of love -Keegan P. Russ

Based on a request:

Just a thought : Keegan strikes me as the guy who would hold wife! reader close to him when they sleep in their bed. Or he'd carry her when he finds her asleep on the couch. ---- F!Reader, fluff/romance, established!relationship, boyfriend!keegan, cuddling ----

A/N: thanking Bon Iver and Niall Horan for this fluff🙏

It's four in the morning, Keegan comes home after nearly ten months of deployment, his duffle bag placed on the floor. Steps soft to not wake you up, after all, he is meant to surprise you with his early arrival. As he was about to go and check on the dog, who slept by the sofa, he noticed a blanket, your blanket. He approaches you, his gaze softens the second he watches his beautiful sleeping. You look so peaceful, so calm and in this moment when things for months went so wrong, this view is all he can adore.

"My love, I'm home," Keegan whispers, in his arms, he carries you to bed. They say people have a certain amount of luck and you are proof of that. Maybe out there in the cruel world, he doesn't have much luck but in this place, a warm, cosy and safe place he calls home, he knows luck is there. No one can say they are lucky because they don't have you and he does. A million men can say your name, a million more can watch you but just one gets to come home to you. One man in a sea of billions gets to kiss you, to listen to your ramble about crazy theories, to listen to you hum a tune and to love you and be loved back.

That man is him and in this precise moment, he knows why he proudly waited day and night to hide that ring in his pocket. If he wasn't a romantic, he would propose to you right here right now but he wants that moment to be magical because his precious girl deserves it. "Keegan, it's you," your voice so soft. Fuck, why must you make his heart melt like this? Why must you- damn you! Why do you love him? Why do you see what others don't and why must you make him blush just from the sound of your voice? Couldn't you be any less cruel to his weakened heart? Oh but he loves it, he loves that voice, that touch and stare, he loves the kisses and the 'Did your job go well? Are you hurt? Did you miss me?' he loves it all.

"Of course, it's me, darling," he sets you down on the bed and covers you with the sheets. "I'll be back," his lips touched your soft skin before leaving to take a short shower. You lay in bed, not being able to sleep without him anymore, you wait for him. Once he snuggles to you, you can feel his fresh skin, how his embrace wraps you with love and with care. "Did everything go to plan?" you ask as you nuzzle your face on his chest, a low chuckle escapes his lips as he brushes your hair. "It did, which is surprising," he kisses the top of your head and drapes his leg over yours.

In a warm bed, you and he lie, legs intertwined like they are the perfect match. Your back to his chest, soft breathing filling the room. As you close your eyes, he finds himself admiring your beauty from his angle. His arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close for the rest of the night as the other arm caresses your head. His fingers brush through the hair, and slowly, they make their way to your forehead, where he slowly catches himself falling asleep.

Until morning and maybe even after being awake, he keeps you in his hold and under those warm bed sheets. "I love you to the moon and back- no, let's keep going beyond the moon," he whispers as he keeps holding you close. If only he dared to propose already and make you his missus. But only the brave wait for the exact right moment.

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[bradshawsbaby]

What Christmas Means to Me, My Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Wife!Reader

Summary: You're determined to make your first married Christmas the best one yet. But when you start to overextend yourself, Bob steps in to remind you what's most important.

Word Count: 10.6k

Author's Note: Whew! The relief I feel that I was able to get this story completed before Christmas Eve! This is my contribution to @lewmagoo's A Lew Magoo Christmas challenge! It was inspired by the Stevie Wonder song, "What Christmas Means To Me." I hope you all enjoy!

(Special shoutout and thanks to @luminousnotmatter and @ryebecca for listening to me ramble when I was having a total meltdown about writing this story. I'm very thankful for you both!)

Warnings: References to being stressed during the holidays and a few brief innuendos, but it's mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

From the time he was a young boy, Bob Floyd had been cognizant of one very fascinating phenomenon—his bed never felt so comfortable or so warm as when his alarm clock was blaring in his ear, giving him a rather forceful reminder that it was time to get up and start the day. After he met you, that troubling phenomenon seemed to increase tenfold. As responsible as he was and as much as he prided himself on getting to work early each day, Bob would be lying if he said there weren’t times when he felt like chucking his alarm clock across the room and playing sick just so he could stay tucked away in bed all day, cocooned under the blankets and wrapped around your sweet warmth.

This morning, as his alarm started roaring at 7:00 on the dot, Bob let out a small grunt of protest, blindly reaching out from beneath the comforter to pound a resentful fist on the top of his alarm clock. Once it was silent, he rolled over in the bed the two of you had been sharing as husband and wife for nearly six months now and reached an arm out, fully expecting to wrap it around your soft, pajama-clad body. When he was met with emptiness instead, Bob blinked his eyes open in confusion and sat up slowly, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his vision as he grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and slipped them onto his nose, albeit a bit crookedly.

“Sweetheart?” Bob called out, frowning when he was met with nothing but the early morning stillness of your quaint little home.

Immediately, he flung the covers back and climbed out of bed, padding towards the bathroom to see if maybe you were in the shower and couldn’t hear him calling you over the sound of the running water. That theory was quickly disproven, however, when he found the bathroom door hanging open, lights off and no sounds of a shower in progress. But as he flicked on the lights, Bob discovered that you must have been in there not too long ago, for the mirror above the sink was still beaded with condensation and the bathmat had the imprint of damp footprints.

“Honey?” Bob called again, thinking maybe you’d stepped outside to enjoy your morning coffee on the front porch. Although why you’d be up this early—and showered already, too—on one of your days off from work was beyond him.

Walking into the kitchen, Bob immediately spotted a piece of festive note paper resting on the countertop. He recognized it instantly, the cream colored paper outlined with a ring of cheerful poinsettias. You’d been ecstatic when you’d found it at the dollar store a few weeks ago—"You never know when something like this will come in handy during the holidays, honey," were your exact words. But what stood out even more was your delicate handwriting etched across the paper in dark ink. Picking up the note, Bob adjusted his glasses and read the message you’d quickly penned on your way out the door.

Good morning, honey! I decided to head out early to try to hit some of the stores before they get too crazy. There’s a lot that I still need to pick up, so I’ll probably be gone most of the day. Also, Lorraine and I are going to run over to check out the venue for our staff holiday party and finalize the menu. Speaking of which, I also need to finalize the menu for OUR party, plus Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Text me if there’s anything you want me to get! Hopefully I won’t be home too late. I love you!!!

P.S. I almost forgot—I packed some lunch for you and left it in the fridge! And there’s a pot of coffee ready to brew. Have a great day!!!

He sighed softly as he set your note back down on the counter, running a hand through his honey brown hair, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as he silently lamented your early departure. He could hear your voice in his head as he read your words, chuckling to himself as he pictured you quickly gulping down a cup of coffee—in your favorite Christmas mug, no doubt—and shoving a piece of half-burnt toast in your mouth before running out the door.

You absolutely lived for this time of year, and all the hecticness that the season entailed.

Bob had known, almost from the very start of your relationship, how much you adored Christmas. It was one of the things, in fact, that had made it so easy for him to fall in love with you. Seeing the way you lit up like a firefly when a Christmas song came on the radio or when your favorite coffee shop started offering peppermint-flavored drinks made Bob’s heart melt in absolute love and devotion. He had never known anyone as whimsical or as full of genuine Christmas spirit as you. And your joy was infectious—Bob had never loved the holiday season so much as he did once he started celebrating it with you.

Waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, Bob couldn’t help but grin as he glanced around the kitchen at all the decorations you’d been putting up since Thanksgiving. They gave your home a warm, cozy feeling that had nothing to do with aesthetics and everything to do with the loving care with which you’d hung them.

To Bob, every day was Christmas so long as he got to spend it with you.

Which was why he sighed again as he poured a splash of cream into his coffee mug, brows furrowing above his glasses as he considered how little he’d seen you these past couple weeks.

With both of you working full-time jobs, it made sense that you couldn’t possibly spend every waking moment together. But Bob looked forward more than anything to your routine of dinner in the early evening and then hours spent lounging in each other’s arms, talking about your days or listening to music or watching a movie together. It was a habit you had gotten into even before you were married, and it was made all the sweeter by the fact that your lives were now entwined so intrinsically.

These past few weeks, however, that routine had been seriously upended by all the hustle and bustle of the holidays. Bob knew you took this time of year seriously—and he really did love how happy it made you—but it seemed like this year more than ever, your schedule was jam-packed and filled nearly to bursting.

On top of the usual shopping that needed to get done—you bought gifts for everyone, even down to your mail carrier and the barista who made your favorite coffee—there were preparations for not one, not two, but three separate parties you had volunteered to host. First up was your staff holiday party. Your colleagues knew that no one loved Christmas more than you, and so they had unanimously nominated you to spearhead the planning, which you’d graciously agreed to, with some help from your co-worker, Lorraine. Then was the party for the Daggers and their families that you had convinced Bob it would be fun to host a few days before Christmas Eve. All of your friends couldn’t stop buzzing about it, and you were going to great lengths to make sure it was perfect. As if all that wasn’t enough, you were also going to be hosting both of your families for the holidays this year, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, and all.

“It’s our first Christmas as Mr. and Mrs. Floyd,” you’d told him one night, when he’d asked if you were really okay with all of the planning that would be involved. “I want it to be special.” Your smile when you said it warmed him from the inside out. As introverted as he could be, he’d gladly host twenty parties so long as it made you happy.

The reality, however, was that you were swamped. Every day after work, you were either running around to stores or scouring the internet for the best cyber deals or researching recipes that you wanted to try for Christmas dinner. One night, Bob had even found you making an alphabetized list of holiday games you could play at the parties.

“Are you sure you’re really okay?” Bob asked at one point, when he caught you yawning over your dinner. “I know I’ve been busy with work, but I can help more. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’m fine, silly,” you giggled, waving off his concern with a hand. “I just want everyone to have a good time.”

“They will,” he told you, resting his large, calloused hand over yours. He looked intently into your eyes, sincerity shining in the blue depths of his. “They’ll have a good time no matter what. You don’t have to make yourself sick over planning.”

You had just smiled at him and given him a kiss, but clearly you hadn’t heeded his words because now you were even using your day off to run errands, waking up even earlier than your naval aviator husband to do so.

Rinsing his empty mug out in the sink, Bob frowned as he thought of how tired you’d seemed these past few days. Your joy and your sweetness never diminished, but he could tell just from looking in your eyes how exhausted you were getting. You were overextending yourself, and he was terrified you were going to burn out before Christmas even arrived. Not being able to fully enjoy your favorite time of year would devastate you, and nothing would hurt Bob more than that.

You needed to take a day for yourself, Bob decided as he let the warm water flow over him in a quick shower. No shopping, no planning, no organizing—just a day where you actually got to enjoy all your favorite things about this season.

That idea remained buzzing around in his head as he drove to work, hanging on the periphery of his consciousness even as he spent hours flying test runs with Phoenix and the rest of the Daggers. On his lunch break, he enthusiastically hunkered down in the rec room to research some of the plans that were percolating in his mind. And by the time he drove home that evening, he was wearing a smile bright enough to rival any of the Christmas lights twinkling in your neighborhood.

The fact that you still weren’t home when Bob unlocked the front door and carefully placed his work boots on the shoe rack only further solidified his plan. As if you could somehow read his mind, his phone buzzed suddenly with an incoming text.

Are you home? I’m so sorry I’m not back yet! I’m on my way now. I picked up some dinner from that BBQ place that you like 😋

Bob’s heart squeezed with affection as he read your words. You’d been up for nearly twelve hours at this point, and you were no doubt exhausted, but you were still always putting others ahead of yourself. He typed out a quick response as he walked into the living room to turn on the lights on the Christmas tree.

Yum! Thank you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for you to get home ♥️

About twenty minutes later, just as Bob was stepping out of your bedroom after changing into a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt from his time at the Naval Academy, he heard your key jiggling in the lock and hurried to meet you.

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise when your husband swung open the door before you could finish turning your key. “Hiya, honey,” you beamed, holding up the bag of take-out food you’d picked up especially for him on your drive home.

“Man, I tell you, these delivery people keep getting cuter and cuter,” Bob teased, drawing you close and taking the food out of your hands as he dropped a kiss on your lips.

“Mmm,” you giggled against his mouth, kissing him back as you felt some of the tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders slowly dissipate. “Maybe this delivery girl can join you for dinner tonight,” you winked playfully, smiling when you felt Bob’s fingers lace through yours.

“I was counting on it,” he chuckled, tugging on your hand as he turned into the house.

“Oh, just give me a couple minutes, honey,” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering you’d left your car idling in the driveway, the backseat and trunk filled to the brim with your purchases of the day. “I just want to get everything out of the car.”

“Sweetheart, it can wait,” Bob insisted, glancing longingly between you and his dinner. “Your food’s going to get cold. I’ll help you unload the car after we eat.”

You bit your lip in hesitation, but finally relented when you saw the puppy dog expression on your husband’s face. “Okay, fine, let me just go turn the car off.”

A few minutes later, you and Bob were seated side by side at your small kitchen table, your legs pressing together and your fingers brushing against one another as you nibbled on wings and scarfed down some chili mac and cheese.

“How was your day?” you asked curiously, glancing up as you took a sip of water and wiped your fingers on a napkin.

You always asked that question so sincerely, even after all this time. It made him feel so seen and loved. Smiling, he rested his hand over yours and squeezed your fingers gently.

“It was good,” he said lightly, not yet ready to divulge the plans he’d been formulating all day. “You know, same old, same old. How about yours?”

“It was great!” you chirped, beaming brightly.

Bob smiled and nodded as you told him about the gifts you’d picked up for all the nieces and nephews, the menu you and Lorraine had decided on for your staff holiday party, the grab bags gifts you’d snagged for the Dagger party, the new gingerbread recipe you’d just heard about, and a whole host of other things.

“Sorry, I’m rambling,” you murmured sheepishly after you realized you’d hardly stopped for a moment to take a breath.

“It’s okay, I love it when you ramble,” Bob grinned, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Mmm, I love it even more when you taste like barbeque,” he laughed, nudging your nose with his own.

Laughing, you wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him tenderly. Pulling back, you rested your forehead against his with a contented sigh and gazed into his eyes. “Want to go find a movie to watch while I do the dishes?” you suggested.

Bob pulled back slightly to more fully look at you, though he kept his large hands wrapped loosely around your waist. “As much as I love the sound of that plan, I think we should call it an early night tonight, honey,” he said softly, reaching up to lightly brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You look exhausted.”

You pouted slightly, but couldn’t stifle the yawn that suddenly came upon you, which made the both of you laugh. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted ruefully, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.

“How about you get started on the dishes and I’ll unload everything from the car? Then we’ll head to bed, alright?” Bob asked, hyper aware of the drawn look around your eyes.

“Deal,” you nodded, giving him one more kiss as you jumped up to clear the table.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were cuddled up under the covers, the warm glow from the little battery-operated lantern you kept near the window casting a cozy feel over the room.

“Do you have any plans for Saturday?” Bob asked softly, running his fingers up and down your arm gently as you lay in his embrace. Saturday was the one day that the both of you had off, and he intended to make the most of it this weekend.

You let out a soft sigh, snuggling up further against his chest. “There are a few new recipes I wanted to try for dinner on Christmas Eve and Christmas, so I figured maybe I should test them out ahead of time, just in case they end up being a disaster. Saturday seems as good a day as any to do that. Want to be my taste tester?” you grinned, eyes crinkling as you smiled over at him.

“Uh-uh,” Bob shook his head, a slightly mischievous smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked at him. “Why not? You’ve got other plans?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his blue eyes twinkling, which you could see even in the dark of your bedroom. “I’m going to have a very full day.”

“Doing what?” you huffed jokingly, arching an eyebrow as you rolled onto your side, gazing at him curiously.

“You’ll find out,” Bob grinned, not letting the cat out of the bag just yet. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” you asked, clearly taken aback as your eyes widened once again. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckled, leaning over to give you a quick kiss.

“Bob!” you exclaimed, nudging him lightly with your foot.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he grinned, rolling over and closing his eyes. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as he heard you huffing softly beside him, clearly desperate to know what he was planning. Within minutes, however, he heard the sound of your breathing soften and deepen, your eyes closing in a deep slumber.

Turning back over, Bob watched you sleep peacefully and felt his heart clench inside his chest. You were going above and beyond this Christmas, and it was clearly taking its toll, whether you wanted to admit it or not. He was glad to see you sleeping so comfortably after such a long day.

You were striving so hard to make this Christmas magical for everyone else. This weekend, Bob was going to make it magical for you and remind you what this season was really all about.

Nobody deserved it more than you.

Saturday morning dawned bright and crisp, just as Bob had been anticipating. He’d been checking the forecast every day to make sure that nothing was going to interfere with his plans for today. The weather was better than he could have hoped for—the sun was shining bright, hardly a cloud in the sky, but the air had a nice winter chill as the temperature hovered somewhere between the high fifties and low sixties.

That was one of the only things you ever lamented about moving to San Diego—it was harder to make it feel like Christmas when it was still warm enough to wear shorts and go to the beach. But today’s weather, while certainly not cold by any stretch of the imagination, would at least give you an opportunity to wear one of those new sweaters you’d bought for yourself.

Grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning, Bob quietly tiptoed into your bedroom, where he was delighted to see that you were still fast asleep, buried so deeply under the covers that only the top of your head was poking out. Swallowing back a laugh, he sidled over to your side of the bed and carefully placed the treats he’d set out early to procure on your nightstand.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured softly, gingerly taking a seat on the edge of the bed to avoid crushing you. You stirred slightly, but didn’t open your eyes, so he bent down to drop a kiss on the crown of your head, still the only part of your body exposed to the mid-morning light. “Honey, wake up,” he tried again, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

Letting out a soft hum in response, you slowly pushed the covers back and ran a hand down your face before opening your eyes halfway, peeking up at your husband through hooded lids.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bob chuckled, ducking his head to peck your lips tenderly.

“Mmm, good morning,” you replied, your voice still heavy with sleep as you stretched with a satisfied little groan. You were so distracted by the extremely pleasant view of your handsome husband hovering above you that it took you a moment to realize how much light was filtering in through the windows, and to catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. Gasping, you bolted upright, looking at Bob with wide eyes. “Is that really the time? I thought I set an alarm!”

It was nearly 9:45am. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in that late. Between work and all the other things you were usually running around doing, even on your days off, your internal alarm hardly ever let you sleep that long. Not to mention the fact that you normally had an alarm set. You could have sworn you had set it last night.

Bob had the grace to look a bit sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck, gazing at you with those big blue eyes behind the frames of his adorably gawky glasses. “You did,” he began slowly, glancing guiltily at your alarm clock and then back at you. “I shut it off.”

“Bob!” you exclaimed in astonishment, uncertain what would have possessed him to do that, especially when he knew how busy you were lately. “Why would you do that?”

“You needed the extra sleep, honey,” he said in a voice so sweet and filled with concern that you couldn’t even dream of staying mad at him. Reaching out, he took one of your hands between both of his, gently rolling the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You’ve been running yourself ragged these past couple weeks. I wanted you to get some real rest.”

You bit your lip, averting your gaze as you silently thought about how busy you’d been lately and how exhausted you’d been feeling. You’d had three cups of coffee at work yesterday just to make it through the day.

“I guess you’re right,” you conceded, your lips curving upward in a rueful smile. “I do feel a little bit better already. Thank you, honey,” you told him, leaning forward to give him a kiss of appreciation. That was when your eyes landed on the cup of coffee and the small red-and-white striped bag on your nightstand. “Is that for me?” you gasped in delight, looking back at your husband eagerly.

“Mhm,” Bob chuckled at your open excitement, reaching for the cup and the bag and placing them in your hands.

Your very favorite coffee shop in all of San Diego, which also happened to be the spot where you and Bob went on your second date, was a tiny little hole-in-the-wall place not far from where you worked. From the outside, it didn’t seem like much to behold, but it was one of the city’s best kept secrets. Their coffee was brewed to perfection and their baked goods were a sweettooth’s dream. But what you loved most of all was the way they went all out for the holidays. The entire cafe was decked out in garland and bows and twinkling lights, Christmas music pumped through the speakers all day long, and their menu reflected everyone’s seasonal favorites.

At this time of year, your go-to order was a large peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream and a gingerbread scone that you swore you wanted to be your last meal on this earth. Bob had gotten to the cafe just in time that morning to get a scone fresh out of the oven.

“Oh my gosh, it’s still warm,” you sighed happily, the spiced molasses melting on your tongue as soon as you popped it into your mouth. You closed your eyes in bliss, washing it down with a sip of the peppermint mocha. “Thank you, honey. This is such a sweet surprise.”

“The first of many, I hope,” Bob smiled, resting a hand on your thigh as you enjoyed your breakfast in bed. “I have lots planned for you today, Mrs. Floyd.”

“You do?” you asked, raising an eyebrow over the rim of your coffee cup.

He nodded, his smile only growing wider. “Don’t you remember what I said the other night? We’ve got a lot to do today. So as soon as you’re done enjoying your breakfast, you better hop in the shower. We don’t want to be late,” he told you, his gorgeous baby blues sparkling as he rose from the bed and started towards the door.

“Wait!” you cried,  jumping out of bed with your coffee and scone still firmly in hand. “What are we doing?” you called after him, chasing behind him in bare feet. “Bobby!”

“You’ll find out,” he laughed, turning around and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Just wear something comfortable,” was all the information he gave you.

You sighed in a purposely dramatic fashion, shooting him a playful glance. You knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to tell you anything else, so there was no use in trying to get the information out of him. Instead, you quickly gulped down the rest of your coffee and finished off your scone—still trying to savor every bite—before tearing off your pajamas and jumping into the shower.

An hour later, you were ready to go, dressed in a cute pair of jeans and a new red and white sweater you’d just recently purchased. The weather today finally gave you an opportunity to wear it.

“Is this alright?” you asked Bob as you stepped into the living room, holding your arms out at your sides. It was hard to know what to wear when you had no idea what you were doing.

“It’s perfect,” Bob nodded, smiling as he rose from the couch and took in your appearance. “Just like you,” he added, winking as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you giggled, resting your hands on his broad chest. He was wearing a dark green crew neck sweater and dark jeans that fit his long figure exquisitely. “Now are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Bob just shook his head, laughing out loud when you released a groan of exasperation. “Patience, my sweet wife,” he teased, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the front door. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You really hadn’t been sure what to anticipate when you climbed into the car with Bob. As many guesses as you tried to make to figure out what his plans were, your husband’s expression was impenetrable. He didn’t give anything away, no matter what you said.

What you hadn’t been expecting was to pull into the parking lot of Petco Park.

As soon as Bob put the car in park, you glanced over at him curiously, trying to figure out what you were doing here. Your husband wasn’t a big baseball fan. And even if he was, it was the middle of December.

“I’m guessing we’re not here for a Padres game?” you ventured with a playful smile, glancing around the crowded parking lot.

Your husband laughed, shaking his head. “Not exactly. Come on,” he told you, climbing out of the car and hurrying around to the passenger side to open your door.

Slipping your hand into his, you followed his lead as he guided you through the milling crowd towards the entrance to the baseball stadium. He seemed almost giddy as the two of you got closer and closer to the park, glancing down at you every few seconds as if to check that you were still with him. You had no idea what was awaiting you, but his excitement was infectious and you found yourself buzzing with anticipation.

You weren’t disappointed.

As soon as Bob handed over your tickets to the attendant, you were swept up in the crowd of people surging towards Gallagher Square, where you were met with a breathtaking display of Christmas beauty.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, coming to a halt as you stared, wide-eyed and in awe of the beautiful market that surrounded you.

“Do you like it?” Bob asked, a thread of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you, watching the way you were silently taking everything in.

Turning to face him, your face split into a huge grin and you threw your arms around him, peppering his cheek with kisses. “I love it! It’s so wonderful!”

It was as close to a German Christmas market as you had ever come, with vendors of all kinds set up in little wooden booths ringing the perimeter of the square. There were shopkeepers selling a whole assortment of things, from hot chocolate and gingerbread cookies to homemade candy to personalized ornaments to fine wine and jewelry. Amidst all the different stalls were small stages where performances ranging from choirs to magic shows were taking place, not to mention the life-size snow globes and the giant sleigh where guests could take pictures. And at the center of it all was a ginormous Christmas tree that had to be at least thirty feet tall.

It was magical. It made you feel like you were a little girl again, attending your town’s local Christmas fair with your family.

“I didn’t even know this existed!” you exclaimed, still holding tightly to your husband as you continued to gaze around you.

“I didn’t either,” Bob admitted, unable to stop smiling at how happy you looked. “But Phoenix and Hangman told me they took the kids here last week and had a blast, so I knew I had to get you tickets.”

“Oh, thank you, honey! This is amazing!” you beamed, wrapping your arms around him to give him an enthusiastic kiss.

Bob chuckled and blushed slightly as he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his other hand resting on your hip. “Should we walk around?”

Nodding, you took his hand and practically hauled him across the square, bouncing from stall to stall and oohing and aahing over all the various trinkets and baubles.

“Oh, honey, look! We should get this,” you cooed, holding up a sweet ornament of a hand painted Christmas tree with a little banner draped across it that read Our First Christmas as Mr. and Mrs.

It didn’t matter that you had three other ornaments with similar messages already hanging on your Christmas tree at home. Bob gladly pulled out his wallet to buy it for you, his heart fluttering at the gorgeous smile that lit up your entire face when the vendor carefully wrapped it up and handed it to you.

“Thank you, Bobby. I can’t wait to put it on the tree when we get home,” you told him, carefully slipping the wrapped ornament into your purse.

“Anything for you, honey,” Bob murmured softly, kissing your forehead. “Alright, what’s our next stop?”

You and Bob continued to wander among the stalls for the next couple hours, stopping on occasion to take a photo or grab a snack—"This is sustenance," you grinned, holding up the little brown bag of freshly glazed almonds that you’d purchased for the two of you to munch on.

At one point, as you were admiring the work of a local artist, you heard the sound of the sweetest voices imaginable. Following the music, with Bob trailing closely behind, you walked a bit further up the path before stopping in front of a small choir made up of the most angelic looking children you had ever seen. The sign in front of the platform declared that they were students from a local school for children with special needs.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, tears sparkling on your lashes as they sang the most beautiful version of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” you had ever heard. Resting your head on your husband’s shoulder, you let the music wash over you, smiling brightly as they transitioned from one song to another.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there exactly—was it for three songs or six?—but when the children finally stopped singing, you and Bob burst into thunderous applause, prompting nearby onlookers to join in.

The pride on the children’s faces melted your heart as they shyly waved to the crowd and began making their way off the platform.

A little girl with Down syndrome, who couldn’t have been older than six or seven, suddenly broke away from the others and grabbed her mother’s hand, dragging her towards where you and your husband stood.

“Thank you for coming!” she said brightly, offering an adorable little gap-tooth smile.

“Thank you for having us!” you replied brightly, squatting down so that you were on eye level with her. “You all sounded amazing!”

To your surprise, the little girl lunged forward to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” her mother exclaimed, touching her daughter’s shoulder and trying to pull her back.

“It’s alright,” you smiled, patting the little girl’s back before she let go. “No need to apologize.”

“Thank you for staying to listen for so long,” the woman said, looking between you and Bob. “The kids worked really hard on their program for today, so it was nice to have such a captive audience.”

“We were happy to do it, really,” Bob told her, smiling down at the little girl as he rested a hand on your lower back. “Christmas music is my wife’s favorite,” he told her conspiratorially.

Her eyes widened in delighted surprise. “Mine, too!”

You all laughed happily at that.

“Well, I hope you have an amazing Christmas and that Santa brings you everything you’re hoping for this year,” you told her, grinning at the way she lit up at the mention of Santa.

“Santa! Santa!” she cheered.

“That’s right,” her mother nodded, brushing her daughter’s hair back over her shoulder. “We should get going soon if we want to go see Santa. What do you say to the nice people who watched you sing?”

“Thank you!” the little girl said sweetly, giving both you and Bob another quick hug around the legs. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” you and Bob replied in unison, waving to both mother and daughter as you went your separate ways, smiling from ear to ear.

“You’re going to make an amazing mother one day,” Bob told you softly, the unadulterated adoration in his eyes warming you up from the inside out.

You just smiled dreamily in response, very much looking forward to the day when you would get to see Bob Floyd become a father.

“Well I think that was a very successful trip to the Christmas Market,” your husband said a few minutes later after you circled back to the center of the square.

“I had so much fun, honey. Thank you for thinking of this,” you told him, touched by the effort he’d made to bring you here and make it such a lovely afternoon.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bob smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He glanced down at his watch and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, but we better get going if we want to stay on schedule. Still have a lot to do.”

“Wait…what?” you questioned, startled. “There’s more?”

“I said I had a lot planned, didn’t I?” That mischievous twinkle had returned to his eyes. “You didn’t think this was it, did you?”

“Bob Floyd, what do you have up your sleeve?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and looking up at him with a quirked brow, trying and failing to mask the smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ll see,” was all he said, taking your hand and leading you back to the car.

If you had been uncertain about what your husband’s plans were when you’d arrived at Petco Park, you were doubly unsure what he had in mind when he turned onto the bridge connecting San Diego to Coronado.

“Are you taking me with you to work?” you wondered with a laugh, looking out the window at the afternoon sun sparkling on the San Diego Bay. You often told Bob that you were jealous of the view he got to enjoy on his commute to and from North Island.

Bob laughed at your question, but simply shook his head in response, turning up the radio as Mariah Carey began belting “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

“Hmmm, saved by the Queen of Christmas,” you joked, nudging him playfully as he took a turn off the bridge.

“Now, honey, you know that you’re the Queen of Christmas,” Bob retorted, winking at you as he made a few more turns.

“True,” you giggled, singing along to the radio until Hotel Coronado appeared in your sights, in all its glorious grandeur. You glanced over at Bob curiously, but he didn’t say anything as he searched for a parking spot.

“The suspense is killing me, Bobby,” you lamented, clinging onto his arm once he finally did manage to park the car. “What are we doing now?”

Turning to face you, Bob was struck once again by just how deeply he loved you. There was no one else he’d drag himself all over San Diego for on his day off from work.

“We’re going ice skating,” he explained, chuckling at the shocked expression on your face.

“You mean…Skating by the Sea?!” you gasped excitedly, practically bouncing up and down in your seat. “Bobby, you got tickets?”

“Sure did,” he nodded, pulling them out of his pocket to show you.

“Oh my gosh, how?” you breathed, reaching out to touch them as if you were afraid they would disappear.

“Mav knows a guy,” Bob chuckled, shaking his head affectionately as he thought of his boss and mentor.

As Hotel Coronado’s most popular winter attraction, it was nearly impossible to get tickets to Skating by the Sea during the Christmas season, but when Bob had mentioned it at work, Maverick had promised that he would be able to procure him a couple tickets. How he managed it, Bob didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. All that mattered was that you were looking at him right now like he had hung the moon and the stars, and there was no better reward than that.

“Ready to go?” Bob asked, holding out his hand to you.

“Ready!” you cheered, placing your hand in his and holding on tight.

It had been quite some time since you had actually been ice skating, and you were a bit rusty, especially in comparison to your midwestern husband, who had grown up ice skating on frozen ponds every winter. Still, despite your wobbly knees, you were determined to enjoy every moment of this experience.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Bob murmured encouragingly, holding tightly to your hands as he guided you onto the ice, sticking close to the wall in case you needed extra support.

“If you had told me we were coming, I could have brushed up on my skills ahead of time,” you teased, glancing down at your white rental skates as you carefully slid one foot in front of the other.

“And ruin the surprise and the look on your face when I told you what we were doing? Never,” he grinned, gently squeezing your hands as you slowly started to become more confident and steady on your feet. “You’ve got it, honey. Try looking up at me. I won’t let go,” he promised.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze from your feet up to your husband’s midsection, and then finally up to his face, that face that you adored more than anything else on this earth.

“There you go, you’ve got it. You’re doing such a good job,” Bob praised you, his confidence unshaken as he moved backwards across the ice. It was incredibly attractive how sure of himself he was out here.

“I think I’ve got it now. Want to try letting go?” you asked with a grin, feeling a little nervous but willing to give it a shot.

Smiling proudly, Bob nodded and slowly released his grip on your hands, letting you glide independently for a few seconds. You moved forward tentatively, your hands still out at your sides so that you could grab onto him—or the wall—if needed.

“That’s it, honey! Look at you go!” your husband cheered, making you laugh as you carefully made your way over to the opposite wall, which afforded you breathtaking views of the beach and the ocean beyond.

Seconds later, Bob skated up beside you, resting with you against the wall and enjoying the same view. “Pretty beautiful, huh?” he asked, gazing down at you.

“Insanely beautiful,” you agreed, resting your hand over his and squeezing gently. “I’m so glad we’re here.”

“Me, too,” Bob nodded, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “But it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. I’m just so glad to be with you.”

“Honey,” you breathed out, touched by the sweetness of his words. They actually made you well up a little bit.

“I mean it, sweetheart. It’s not the things we do that make days like this special. It’s getting to do them with you. That’s all I really wanted. I’ve missed you these past few weeks,” he confessed.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Bob was quiet for a moment, just holding you close and resting his cheek atop your head.

“I love you so much, you know,” you told him, lifting your head to press a kiss to his jaw.

“I know,” he nodded, his mouth turning up in a tender smile. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

After a couple moments of comfortable silence, you took his hand and started to push away from the wall. “Come on, let’s go show everybody what an amazing skater you are,” you laughed, nearly toppling over in your eagerness. Thankfully, Bob had some of the quickest reflexes you’d ever seen and was there to catch you.

He was always there to catch you.

You and your husband spent the next hour twirling around on the ice, you trying your best not to fall and Bob trying his best to keep you from falling. By the time your legs were starting to ache in protest, the sun was just beginning to set over the beach, the sky exploding in hues of orange, pink, and red.

“Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?” you whispered in awe, resting your cheek against your husband’s strong chest and soaking in the moment.

“A close second to you,” Bob replied, chuckling at the adorable way you got all flustered at his compliment. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get those skates off you.”

Stepping off the rink, Bob carefully guided you to a nearby bench and sat you down before squatting in front of you to untie your laces.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” you asked softly, reaching out to lightly caress his flushed cheek as he ministered to you.

“I ask myself the same thing every day when I get to wake up beside you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your knee before pulling your skates off. He then rose and plopped down beside you on the bench, pulling off his own skates with ease.

After you returned your rental skates and collected your things, Bob stopped you on the pathway near the beach and looked down at you.

“I hope you’ve worked up an appetite after all this,” he told you, a knowing smile on his face. “Because we’ve got one more stop.”

“We do? Oh, Bobby! This day has already been so special. I can’t imagine how it could get any better,” you declared, wondering what more he could possibly have in store.

“Wait and see,” Bob winked, taking your hand as you began strolling off hotel property and towards where you had parked “Oh, and I’ve got a little something in the car for you to change into.”

The last thing on earth you had been expecting when your husband handed you a small duffel bag out of the trunk of the car was to open it up and find the beautiful red dress you’d worn last Christmas—the one Bob hadn’t been able to stop gushing about or get you out of fast enough after Christmas dinner—and your favorite pair of high heels, plus the diamond studs and pendant he’d gifted you last year, the ones you only wore on very special occasions.

And yet, there you were, sitting beside your husband in the passenger seat of his car in your holiday finest, flying along the open road towards some unknown destination.

You weren’t the only one who had changed after your ice skating escapades. Bob had packed a second duffel, it seemed, for when you had returned from getting changed, he was waiting for you, no longer clad in his crew neck and jeans, but in a pair of black slacks and a dinner jacket, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

“For you,” he said with a wide smile, handing you a small bouquet of red and white roses—another surprise he’d been hiding in that trunk of his.

You held the sweet-smelling flowers close to your nose now as Bob made a few turns, heading in a direction that was not totally familiar to you.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you whispered softly, a hint of emotion catching in your voice as you rested the beautiful bouquet in your lap. You couldn’t wait to put it in one of your Christmas vases when you got home and proudly display it on the coffee table in the living room.

Bob glanced over at you as he came to a red light, his blue eyes brimming with adoration as he soaked in how happy and content you looked. “You deserve it,” he told you, reaching out to rest a hand on your thigh, his fingers lightly stroking the inside of your knee. “You deserve all this and so much more. And I’m so lucky to be the man who gets to give it to you—or try anyway,” he added with a sheepish laugh.

Before the light could turn green, you leaned over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. “You succeed,” you murmured against his lips. “Every time. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I love you,” he smiled, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb before returning both hands to the wheel, ignoring the disgruntled driver who was honking behind him.

You giggled as you settled back in your seat with a happy sigh. “I love you, too, honey.” You paused for a moment or two, then tacked on, “Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“Nice try,” Bob laughed, shooting you a sideways glance. “I haven’t spoiled any of my surprises today. You think I’m going to start now?”

“Oh, fine,” you replied, heaving a dramatic sigh and then grinning. “I can’t wait to find out what it is though.”

“I have a feeling you’re really going to love it,” he said, his smile warmer than the San Diego sun as he tapped his hands excitedly on the steering wheel, his own anticipation building.

“I know I will,” you nodded, lifting the bouquet of roses to your nose once more and taking a delicate sniff. “I love anything so long as I’m doing it with you.”

A few minutes later, Bob made a final turn that led the two of you up a winding, gorgeously manicured road. Leaning forward, you gazed out the window eagerly, trying to place exactly where you were. At that exact moment, a large sign came into view that read FAIRMONT GRAND DEL MAR.

Gasping in delight, you practically had your nose smushed against the glass as your husband drove past stunning gardens and twinkling fountains, all decked out with the most darling, demure decorations you had ever seen.

Fairmont Grand Del Mar was one of the most luxurious and glamorous hotels in all of Southern California, and while it was basically right in your own backyard, you had never stepped foot on its grounds before.

You suddenly found yourself very grateful that your jeans and sweater were safely tucked away in a duffel bag. Thank goodness your brilliant husband thought of everything.

“Oh my goodness, Bobby!” you squealed, covering your mouth to try to control the delighted laughter that was bubbling up inside you. But it was no use. “It’s so beautiful here!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Bob hummed in agreement, taking in the view as he slowed his pace along the property’s winding pathways. “A beautiful girl in a beautiful place. Sounds about right to me,” he added, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

You just smiled at that, a pleasant warmth rushing to your cheeks as you tried to take in as much of the views as you could. As if the hotel grounds weren’t breathtaking enough on their own, they’d clearly gone to great lengths to turn the property into a winter wonderland for the holidays and they had more than succeeded. You loved every inch of it.

Moments later, after Bob had helped you out of the car and handed his keys off to a valet parker, he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you into the lobby of what seemed to be one of the hotel’s restaurants. It was elegantly designed, with Persian rugs and cream-colored marble walls, scrolled detailing on the ceiling, and a roaring fireplace to give the room a cozy, inviting atmosphere. It was decorated for the season with class—golden candelabras, dark red poinsettias, aromatic garland wrapped in red ribbons and bows, giant wreaths practically the size of you hanging on the walls.

It felt like a little Christmas paradise.

You were thankful for Bob’s strong hand on your back, guiding you along as you tripped over your own two feet, gazing around the room in unabashed awe.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he whispered in your ear as you approached the host stand. “I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures of you in that gorgeous dress with this perfect Christmas backdrop,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I want you in the pictures, too,” you whispered back, grinning as you squeezed his hand where it was resting on your hip. “Too bad we didn’t think to come here for our Christmas card photo,” you added, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Next year,” Bob winked. He managed to tear his gaze away from you only when the two of you finally got to the stand and the hostess looked at you expectantly.

“Good evening,” she said in a voice that was calm, cool, and cultured. “Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”

“Yes,” Bob told her, squeezing your hip softly as he spoke. “Dinner for two. It should be under Floyd.”

The hostess checked her computer screen and smiled. “Ah, yes. We’re pleased to welcome you tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Floyd. Please, follow me,” she said, leading you through a small maze of elegantly set tables, bedecked with what appeared to be antique tablecloths, romantic candles, and subtle hints of holly and garland.

The three of you finally came to a stop at a cozy table right near a window which overlooked the gardens, a twinkling Christmas tree right in your line of vision.

“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess told you as the two of you got settled in your seats. “We hope you very much enjoy our special Christmas menu here at Fairmont Grand Del Mar,” she added with a gracious smile before turning to head back to her post.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a soft smile, maintaining every ounce of decorum you could possibly muster until the woman was out of earshot. Then you let out a delighted squeal, the same sound you used to make when opening your presents on Christmas morning as a little girl. “Bobby! This is incredible! How did you manage this?” you demanded, gaping at him in amazement. Then you giggled. “Wait, let me guess. Mav knows another guy?”

“Actually this time, it was Payback who knew a guy,” Bob laughed, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, brushing his thumb across your soft skin. “His cousin works concierge at the hotel, so he managed to pull a few strings.”

“Amazing,” you grinned, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Don’t let me forget to thank Mav and Reuben when I see them at the party.”

“Just Mav and Reuben?” he teased, pretending to be wounded.

You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice as you told him, “Well I’m going to give you a proper thank you tonight.” Your eyes sparkled in tandem with the diamond pendant hanging around your neck.

Bob’s cheeks turned bright pink as he caught your meaning, and he reached up to tug lightly at the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat.

Winking, you leaned back with a smile. Your husband was saved from having to come up with a reply by the sudden appearance of your waiter, an older, dignified man named Antonio, who greeted you both warmly as he shared some drink recommendations.

Despite the fact that Bob hardly ever drank, he ordered the two of you a bottle of champagne that came highly recommended, which Antonio happily delivered along with a bucket of ice.

“To you, sweetheart,” Bob toasted, lifting the flute that your waiter had filled just a moment earlier. “This time of year wouldn’t be half as special if it wasn’t for you.”

“No, to you,” you smiled, raising your own champagne flute to mirror your husband’s. “Today was beyond words, and none of it would have been possible without you.”

“To us then,” he grinned, compromising as he tipped his glass towards you.

“To us,” you nodded in agreement, lightly clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. “Mmm, that’s delicious,” you murmured appreciatively, licking a drop of the champagne off your lip.

“Mhm,” Bob hummed, looking almost surprised. “I mean, not that I have much to compare to, but I’d say this is the best champagne I’ve ever had.”

“Better than at our wedding?” you joked.

“I stand corrected. This is the second best champagne I’ve ever had,” he chuckled.

You and Bob relaxed into smooth and easy conversation. Both your mothers would have scolded you for resting your elbows on the table, especially in such a fancy restaurant, but neither of you cared as you leaned in closer to one another, whispering over the candlelight as the twinkling lights outside the window illuminated your lovestruck faces. Faintly, in the distance, you could hear the soft sounds of classic Christmas tunes being played on a piano. It was the most perfect evening you could have imagined.

The food was some of the best you’d ever tasted. After much debate, you finally settled on the filet mignon with a bearnaise sauce, roasted vegetables, and what had to be the world’s creamiest mashed potatoes, while Bob selected the pork medallions with roasted garlic fingerling potatoes and a brussel sprout salad. Although really it was hard to say who had ordered what considering the way you kept picking food off each other’s plates.

By the time the sour-cherry cheesecake trifle that the two of you had ordered for the grand finale came out, you felt like you were going to burst right out of your pretty red dress. But like you always said, there was always room for dessert.

“You want to know the craziest thing?” you asked, looking up at Bob as you set your fork down on the plate resting between you and your husband. When he nodded at you, you went on, “I just realized that I didn’t think about any of my holiday planning at all today—the shopping, my work party, the parties we’re hosting, none of it. It didn’t cross my mind at all even though it’s all I’ve been thinking about these past few weeks. Isn’t that funny?”

Bob set his fork down as well and gazed at you from across the table, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “Good,” he said, reaching out to take your hand in his once more, gently playing with your wedding band. “That was my mission, and it sounds like it was a success. I wanted today to be a day where you just got to have fun and enjoy this time of year. I know how much it means to you, and I also know that it’ll be over in the blink of an eye, so we have to make the most of it while we can.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you felt the corners of your eyes pricking with happy tears. Your husband was truly the most thoughtful, selfless, caring man you had ever known. You would never know what you had ever done to get so lucky as to find him.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, mimicking his actions and lightly rolling his wedding band underneath your finger as you reached for his other hand. You were quiet for a moment, then thought of his words from earlier, the words that had been niggling the back of your mind on and off since you’d left the ice skating rink. “What you said before,” you began slowly, chewing on your bottom lip, “about missing me these past few weeks. Have I really been that busy? I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Bob gasped, squeezing your hands tightly in his own. “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. I’ve just been worried about you, that’s all. You’re always so happy this time of year, and I know how much it means to you, so I hate to see you running yourself ragged like you have been. I guess I was starting to be afraid that you were going to burn yourself out before Christmas even got here.”

Your heart constricted at the genuine concern in his voice, at the way he was always looking out for you, even when you weren’t paying careful enough attention.

“And I have missed you,” he added softly, lifting one of your hands to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to it.

“I’ve missed you, too, honey,” you whispered, your throat clogging with emotion as you thought of the many nights you’d come home later than usual after running to the stores after work, too tired to curl up on the couch and watch a movie with your husband or just get to enjoy his company. “And you’re right—I have been running myself ragged. I can feel it. I’ve been so tired, and I feel like I don’t even have the time to enjoy all my favorite traditions.” You sighed softly, shaking your head. “I just—I just wanted everything to be perfect this year, you know?”

“It always is perfect,” Bob murmured encouragingly, gently stroking the inside of your wrist with his calloused fingertips, his movements slow and soothing.

“I know, but with it being our first married Christmas, I guess I just wanted it to be really perfect. I got it into my head that we needed to start all these new traditions and that I had to keep on top of everything at all times to make sure that it happened, but now I’m realizing that in the process of all that, I lost sight of what’s most important about celebrating our first Christmas as husband and wife—you,” you admitted, reaching up to lovingly cup his cheek in your hand.

He smiled softly at your words, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your palm. “Sweetheart, the good news is that we have a whole lifetime of making traditions together. So long as it’s you and me, then that’s all I need,” he promised you.

You nodded, a couple stray tears spilling down your cheeks, which you wiped away with a sheepish little laugh. “You’re right. Today was a pretty good start to some Floyd Christmas traditions, I think,” you told him with a grin.

Bob reached out to thumb away the tears sparkling like diamonds on your skin. “I agree,” he smiled. “But the truth is, I don’t care what we’re doing. We could go ice skating on the beach or watch a movie on the couch. We could have a five-star dinner at the Fairmont Grand Del Mar or eat take-out on the kitchen floor.” He glanced around for a moment, just to check if anyone had heard him, his blue eyes laughing as he turned back to you. “I just want to do it with you. That’s what Christmas really means to me, sweetheart. All the other stuff, that’s icing on the cake.”

“I love you so much,” you whispered, leaning across the table and capturing his mouth with your own, the taste of sour cherries and champagne still clinging to his lips.

His fingers tangled in your hair as he cradled the back of your head and kissed you back until you were both sitting breathless in your chairs.

“You’re the love of my life,” he told you. “No matter how many traditions come and go, that’s one thing that will never change.”

As soon as you and Bob got home that night, exhausted in the best way after a perfect day together, you both ran to change into the Christmas pajamas you’d worn last Christmas Eve, then curled up on the couch with steaming mugs of hot cocoa to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas.

“Tired?” Bob asked softly as the Peanuts crew sang “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” while the credits rolled.

“Mmm, a little,” you nodded, lifting your head from where it had been resting on his shoulder.

“Ready to head to bed?” he yawned, pushing the blanket back and rising from the couch before turning to hold his hands out to you.

“Mhm,” you murmured, slipping your hands into your husband’s and allowing him to pull you to your feet. “But not to go to sleep just yet,” you added pointedly.

At your husband’s raised brows, you giggled softly.

“I still have to properly thank you for today,” you reminded him with a playful wink.

You had never seen him move so fast.

That Christmas turned out to be one of the best you’d ever celebrated. Your work party went off without a hitch, the Daggers were already talking about how they needed to make a party at the Floyds’ an annual Christmas tradition, and your families loved getting to spend the holidays together as one huge unit. Every gift you’d purchased was well received and every meal you cooked was touted as the best anyone had ever eaten.

But that wasn’t what made it so special.

As you had been reminded this year, Christmas was about so much more than the planning and the presents and the parties. Those things were nice, sure, but they weren’t what made this time of year so magical.

What made this Christmas so perfect was the handsome man with blue eyes and a wide smile waiting for you beneath the mistletoe.

He was the only gift you needed, today and every day for the rest of your life.

[somehow-a-human]

Moonlight Serenade & Good Omens &... the TV show Lost...?

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY.

The music of Good Omens is something I have been ACTIVELY avoiding turning my focus on. The risks of hyperfixating and spiraling into it are HIGH. There are so many elements to get lost in, repeating motifs like Dies Irae, tolling bells, character themes... but I digress.

Could I hold out forever? no. and something finally pushed me over the edge. Wait for it..... Lost. Yep. The TV show Lost. WAIT WAIT, don't leave! STAY WITH ME! I promise I don't *think* I'm crazy and I have a point here!

Why Lost? And what does it have to do with Moonlight Serenade and WHAT DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH GOOD OMENS?! Well my lovelies continue under the cut with me and keep an open mind...

Okay so... Lost. Yes, the insane 2004 mystery plane crash island adventure drama. It's a wild ride, and a masterpiece and a little bit crazy, but overall pretty damn good. I've been on a rewatch spree and wouldn't you know it... parallels between lost and Good Omens popped up in my brain! I mean they are both intricate mysteries so it makes a tad bit of sense but there was one little detail that *might* be a *clue*, or just an easter egg if anything. I promise you don't need to know anything about Lost to follow this :)

First off, what are some of the recurring themes that Lost the TV show and Good Omens have in common you might ask?

Life & Death

Alternate timelines & Time Travel

Literary Allusions (Catch-22, The Bible, A Tale of Two Cities)

Prophecies & Premonitions

Symbolism of Black & White/ Light & Dark

Yeah okay that tracks, but look there are 121 episodes of Lost and 12 episodes (so far) of Good Omens so there's bound to be some overlap for these two.

You'll be thinking about now, "BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH MOONLIGHT SERENADE?!" I'm getting there, shhh, lemme pet your hair gently and keep giving you background information to build it up shhhh...

If you've never seen Lost there is a very good chance you're mighty confused at this moment, so let me reassure you, you don't need to know anything about it to understand the connections I'm going to make. A brief synopsis is: Oceanic flight 815 crashes on an island. The plane crash survivors quickly discover the island is more than it seems to be and holds many secrets and mysteries. A lot of people die, most of them are murdered, it's giving Lord of the Flies if it was in the horror genre. That's honestly all you need to know.

Time Travel & Alternate Timelines

Time travel is cannon in Lost. It's super confusing and I'm not even going to try to explain any of it here. It's honestly just not worth it. If you'd like to try and read about it, the abridged version is here, but I don't think the details are important. Just know it's real and confirmed and exists.

Okay so, *SPOILERS FOR LOST WILL FOLLOW* In Lost season 2, episode 13 "The Long Con" two of the plane crash survivors are trying to find a signal on a radio they've found. While scrubbing they come across a signal playing Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. One character mentions it must be from somewhere nearby, but the other counters that this type of radio can pick up signals from anywhere in the world. There is a beat and then another character jokingly adds "Or any time. Just kidding, dude."

It's later confirmed that the Lost characters in 2004 are indeed picking up a radio signal from 1940 that is playing Moonlight Serenade, a product of time travel.

Congratulations, you've made it to the point where I'm going to bring Good Omens into the mix. In season 2, episode 4 "The Hitchhiker" we open seeing Aziraphale driving back from Edinburgh late at night/early morning. Uncomfortable with the darkness and silence he asks the Bentley to "play something that's got a bit of swing? I'm in the mood for something modern."

The Bentley obliges the angel, as she always will, and we are shown a shot of the radio specifically lighting up, so we know she's tapped into the radio to play this for Azi, but there is no channel selected.

Compared to Season 2, Episode 3 "I Know Where I'm Going" when we see the radio is playing and does display the channel.

But hold on. Okay maybe it just isn't showing the channel, that's fine, but Aziraphale asked for "modern"? Moonlight Serenade is most certainly not modern. It was recorded in 1939! I'd say in 2023 it's anything but modern, maybe not in Aziraphale's long lived opinion, but certainly in the Bentley's opinion, given she's only a 97 year old car.

I think you can see now what I'm saying here. I think the Bentley picked up a radio signal from 1940, maybe 1941? Episode 4 is of course our 1941 blitz magic show bullet catch flashback extravaganza, so... it makes sense. I know we like to headcanon Crowley and Aziraphale listened to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square in the bookshop in 1941 after the bullet catch, but what if they listened to Moonlight Serenade on the radio instead?

What does it mean?

A reference to this small moment from Lost could be a nod to the first hint of the canonization of time travel in that series. We know Crowley can control time to some extent and we can see some evidence of time discontinuities and possibly time weirdness in season 2 so is it a hint that timeline funkiness IS happening? Do I want to get into the fact that the main character in The Hitchhiker, the Twilight Zone episode this episode is named after, is actually dead? No I don't, not now anyway.

Or it's just an absolutely lovely little Lost easter egg.

SO! There it is... weird little connection that I couldn't get out of my brain. It just seemed a bit too... ineffable.

As always this is all for fun and all for fans! Don't ask Neil about these things, they're for us to have fun with. And something else that I don't think some people on here understand about meta-analysis; the goal of it is not necessarily to be correct. It can be, if that's your thing. Refuting peoples posts, theories, analysis, and headcanons because you personally don't agree with them and telling them they're wrong and stupid doesn't achieve anything. Meta-analysis is an exercise in critical thinking and creative writing. You could write meta about how Spongebob is a critique of the loss of christian values in modern society and you wouldn't be right or wrong, you'd just certainly be a person who wrote that for sure though. Just, be kind to each other, share ideas, you're allowed to disagree with someone's ideas or have different ones of your own but don't be cruel in saying so, don't call someone stupid, that's just silly.

Love you all, do something kind for yourself today <3

ps. The moment I see Michael Sheen with blonde hair come January I'm gonna bark like a dog, that's all. Thanks.

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there &lt;3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour. 

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey do you guys remember how I said that I was going to use patreon to write up content that would be WILDLY too long for tumblr? yeah. this is uuuuuh a little less than 6000 words about a bad Animal Planet series from 2008 that no one watched but me and my sister.

and here's part of the introduction under the cut for freebies, in case you want a little sample:

If you weren’t a painfully introverted animal fact kid in the early 2000s it’s almost impossible to explain the degree of sway that Animal Planet and its shows held over me as a child. Meerkat Manor, Animal Cops, The Most Extreme, The Little Zoo That Could, Prehistoric Planet, River Monsters, all of Steve Irwin’s work, and truly any and all non-serialized programming about any animal imaginable. I ate it all up, even the terribly boring half-hour programs like Backyard Habitat and Petfinder that they only played in the weird wee hours of the morning. 

Crucially, this programming is mostly of a nonfiction bent. Prehistoric Planet uses a framing device involving the use of time travel to bring extinct animals into the present to live in a zoo, but ultimately they’re trying to teach you some facts about some beasts, and while Meerkat Manor was definitely anthropomorphizing and editorializing the drama those meerkats experienced, it was at least rooted in the very real Kalahari Meerkat Project, which has been intensively documenting the behavior of meerkat mobs for many meerkat generations.

But then we get into the oddballs. In 2004 Animal Planet aired Dragons: A Fantasy Made Real, a British “docufiction” produced for Channel Four that sought to contextualize the nearly-global mythology of dragons in real history and biology, complete with CGI recreations of dragons in their “natural habitats.” That’s all fine and good; there’s nothing wrong with using a fake thing to teach people about real animals’ evolution and anatomy. The Loch Ness Monster episode of River Monsters is excellent for this, as you can tell that host Jeremy Wade (angler, freshwater detective, and criminally fuckable old man) doesn’t expect to find a monster literally at all and is just taking the opportunity to introduce his audience to animals they might not otherwise know about, including the noble Greenland shark. He pulls the same trick again in a later episode where he’s sent to discover the “truth” behind sea serpents and winds up diving in search of the elusive oarfish.

Dragons is… not doing that. Instead it offers up a framing device following a completely fictional paleontologists who “suggests the theory that a carbonized Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton on display was killed by a prehistoric dragon” (thanks, Wikipedia) and then has to go on a quest to save his career by proving that dragons totally existed and he’s not crazy. And he’s not! The piece ends with him discovering straight up for-real dragon bones in the Carpathian Mountains. If you were, say, an impressionably soft-brained 8 year old watching this, well holy shit. Congrats! It turns out dragons are real and nobody knows but you. 

Why did Animal Planet air this? God only knows, but it wouldn’t be the last time they dabbled in this shit. 2012 saw another piece by the same creator, Charlie Foley, called Mermaids: The Body Found which posited that various governments are holding merpeople captive and also relied on the infamously eugenicist aquatic ape theory to justify how merpeople could exist. The CGI on that one creeped me the fuck out, although I was at least old enough by then to recognize it wasn’t real.

Between those two docufictional farces, Animal Planet got a little freaky and rolled out some fake factual content of their own: three season of the TV show Lost Tapes (2008-2010, RIP), which purportedly showed “found footage” from incidents of humans having terrifying encounters with cryptids and fighting to escape with their lives. Interspersed with the fully fictional stories were segments of experts talking about folkloric history and speculating as to how creatures like Sasquatch and sea serpents could be real, which was an admirable effort to make it educational but often fell pretty short. There’s a werewolf episode where their expert weakly offers up that there are tons of transformations in nature, like caterpillars turning into butterflies. Notably that has absolutely nothing in common with a human turning rapidly into a wolfbeast and then shifting back, but they tried! They stopped trying as hard by season three, by which point they were throwing any and every beastie they could think of at the wall: there are episodes dedicated to zombies, a poltergeist, two different types of vampires, and the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl. 

Also straining belief was the dedication that some POV characters had to keeping their cameras rolling. I don’t blame the writers for that; it’s hard coming up with a fresh gimmick for “found footage” in every episode. Some of them, like characters wearing body cameras, are pretty smart; others, like a teenage girl continuing to film on her phone while being hunted by the Jersey devil, are not. They’re very much running on horror movie rules; the characters are as dumb as they need to be to make the plot go. To the show’s credit the dumdums are frequently punished, and it’s not uncommon for every single named character to end up dead at the hands (or claws, fangs, whatever) of the monster of the week. 

Needless to say, as a 12 year old I thought this was extremely edgy and cool. I was old enough to recognize that the so-called found footage was fake and that the acting was mostly very bad, but I liked cryptids and some of the show’s better episodes could still creep me right out. I think geeky 12 year olds who like to get a little freaked out on purpose are probably the ideal target demographic for this show, followed by nostalgic 20-somethings who have seen every episode several times.

(Hi, editor’s note: having completed this list it turns out there are WAY more episodes than I thought and I fully Do Not Recall some of them, so egg on my face.)

[mysteriousmissfsart]

Twisted Wonderland Rambles #11

The halloween update is here!

It has brought us something I was expecting at some point and a complete surprise that makes me so happy I want to cry!

First of all, we have a Nightmare before Christmas themed event, which I expected at some point and I love it. We get to see Jack, Sally and Zero! (From what I could see as I skipped through the chapters this morning) (Do tell me if you've found translations and where I could read them as well!)

I remember being scared of the movie as a kid but as I grew up, I also grew to love these characters and their story. I don't know why I was scared and I haven't watched it since I was a kid and was scared of it. I'm planning on actually watching it now as an adult.

Having this event in the game is a dream come true but one thing I wasn't expecting was to get a character based of off Jack Skellington this early!

Here he is!

Say hello to our new Twisted boy, Skully/Scully J. Graves! (Still unsure of the spelling but we'll find out in due time.)

Isn't he just perfectly imperfect to the point where you just want to squish him into a hug and give him the world- OKAY, I'LL STOP.

Guess how much more perfect he is?

Here:

Do you know the voice actor for this guy?

And this guy?

Yeah, his name is Kappei Yamaguchi and he voices our new boy Skully. (I'll use this spelling, it kinda matches with how Jack's name is spelled)

Suprised, right?

Well, I silently screamed in happiness because I've missed Kaito so much and was blessed with Skully. Kappei Yamaguchi uses the same voice he does for Kaito which suits Skully surprisingly well. It feels like he'll be an extravagant and goofy guy which reminds me a lot of Kaito's personality. I love them both!

I literally had my mom and my siblings listen to him speak and tell me if they recognized his voice and my mom recognized the voice! This is the best thing ever!(My mom loves Detective Conan and a lot of other anime series) I am planning on saving up for when he's available but I'm currently saving for Malleus's birthday card-

Anyway,

Here are some more screenshots from the first few chapters!

Malleus looks so good!!!! I really wanted him to have an SSR because I want to see him with art of Jack Skellington. But hey, it works out in my favor. It's a lot easier for me to stop myself from spending my keys and diamonds until his birthday banner.

Next!

Here he is! The star of the show and one of my fave Disney characters! (Even though I haven't watched the movie since my irrational bout of fear as I said earlier) He looks awesome!

Next!

Look at Zero! He's so cute!!!!!! I did see him chasing Grim around LOL. They'll get along eventually!!

Sadly I didn't have the time to screenshot Sally but I'll do it later and upload some more screenshots. I've also just realized that I didn't crop out the phone screen thingy that appears at the bottom of the screen, ugh. Sorry about that! I'll just have to leave it as is. I might come back and fix it later.

One last screenshot!

Skully J. Graves and Jack Skellington standing side by side. What an awesome sight! No, like, really, I love this. It just looks awesome and it's crazy that I get to see this with my own eyes.

Can someone tell me what that thing on Skully's head is? Is that a headbeand? If it is, that's a sick headbeand and I want one.

Also, I'm curious as to why he's wearing sunglasses? Could it be that his eyes are sensetive to light or maybe he's hiding them for some reason???? I'm really curious about that and whether we'll find out about that . I hope he takes the glasses off at some point.

Anyway,

This is what I wanted to share currently and I'm curious about what you think and if you have any theories about how this event will turn out!

Can't wait to hear what you think!

[its-a-ittle-bit-cold]

I traveled fifteen hundred miles to meet you

Maverick x daughter!reader

series masterlist

my masterlist

summary: you begin training and quickly make a name for yourself

a/n: soooo I decided to get rid of the hangman romance that I was gonna put in, and kind of wrote over the scenes as hangman x phoenix (sorry) I didn’t wanna get rid of a whole section ..

ps : sorry for the wait :’( i’ve been swamped with life stuff

warnings: PTSD, child abuse (mother- daughter), feeling unwanted, violence ? canon typical mostly, death, loss of a loved friend

The drill is simple in theory. 

Shoot down Maverick, you win.

But, like your unfortunate lack of skill playing eight ball, the execution is getting there. The first team to go in is too cocky.

He gets them, easy.

Hangman and Phoenix give him a run for his money, but not by much. You’re up next, with Hangman as your wing man. 

Strapping into your jet feels almost surreal. It’s an awesome feeling to be back.

It’s not until you’re in the air that the flashbacks start. 

You and Hangman take off, having decided pre-exercise that you were going to try to divide and conquer: one of you as bait, the other lying in wait for Maverick to take it. You, as the pilot with the best evasive skills and maneuvers, drew the short stick as the bait in the experiment. 

you know that Hangman is notorious for leaving his wingmen behind, so you’re going to be looking for chances to give him a little of his own medicine.

“Ready, team?”

You’ve become more comfortable with the notion that Maverick is your dad. 

It hit you, while you were  lying awake last night, that maybe you should be mad that he left. Your mom always had been angry at him, but could you really blame him for leaving the crazy woman who gave birth to you?

the answer is no, because you did the same. 

“Ready when you are cap’n.” You flick on the proper controls and Hangman gives you a Shaka sign, signaling his okay. 

And then you’re off. 

The rush is exhilarating. It’s not until you can hear Maverick behind you and Hangman warning you that he’s on your tail and you need to shake him that the flashbacks start. 

You grunt, forcing your jet up and over in a backwards barrel roll to escape Maverick’s targeting system. You begin a classic evasive maneuver, the realize he’s not even on your tail anymore. 

“Majesty! he’s on me!”

“Shake him, then!”

But you follow your radar to where Hangman’s getting chased in a high speed game of tag, and readying your targeting system. 

“Majesty, where are you?” Hangman shouts into the comm. You hear the familiar beeping.

He’s done.

You’re on your own.

Majesty! Keep moving! there’s still a mission to complete! 

the rough voice of your former commander rings in your ears as you pull up in a steep climb, about to try a new maneuver. 

(Y/n). I’m sorry. Duchess’s vitals aren’t looking good.

You metaphorically slam the breaks in your plane (which you can’t do because there are none) and let yourself free fall. It’s a special trick that you and Tae always practiced. 

“What the fuck kind of maneuver was that?” 

Maverick’s rough voice breaks the comms. You click your targeting system on and hit him. The beep over the comm would be music in your ears if you weren’t stuck in the past. 

“Wake up! Y/n, we need to go fly before training starts!” Tae, your best friend and wingman (wingwoman?) has always been an early morning productivity person. You always joke about her absolute inability to sleep in, even when you’ve stayed up till three the night before engineering new tricks and stunts to try the next morning. “I have an idea!”

“Uh oh,” you say through a yawn, already tossing on your uniform and tying your hair back. Tae rolls her eyes, then practically sprints out of your dorm room, you got on her heels.

she collected me, up off the ground where you abandoned things 

“That was some damn good flying out there,” Hangman tells you. He’s bought you your first mocktail of the night - a fancy-looking ombré concoction that Penny’s cooked up for you. “If only I’d been alive to see it.”

“Don’t you worry,” Phoenix butts in. “We all saw it, and we also all saw her hang you out to dry!” her tone is just a little too gleeful. “Now that’s something to toast to!”

“You wound me, Trace.”

You toast with Phoenix, then excuse yourself from the pilot’s table, seeking some fresh air. You’d snapped out of your flashback, but Tae’s laugh still rings in your ears. You make your way out to the deck and lean on the railing overlooking the beach and the ocean.

“You’re one helluva pilot.”

You rub your nose with your forearm. 

“That’s what I keep hearing.” You close your eyes, wondering if you should confide in him or not. Probably not. He’s your instructor, not your dad. 

I mean, he’s also your dad.

“whatcha drinking?” You steal a glance at your drink, which has faded to a dull pinkish orange. Maverick’s holding a bottle. 

“Some kind of mocktail Penny came up with.” you take a sip of it. “I don’t drink,” you add after a moment. 

“Well, you’re better than all of us, then.”

You grin and shake your head. Looking out over the water, it’s easy to forget why you’re here and be transported back to the past.

“Now that,” Tae begins, setting down her gin and tonic on the table and admiring the multicolored mocktail Penny concocted. “That is what I call a mocktail.”

You take a swig.

“See, Duchess, Apollo was wrong. Mocktails can be fun!”

“I never said they weren’t!”

This is the last night you have at top gun, and, appropriately, you’re a spending it at the Hard Deck, which is a newer bar that just opened. You’ve made fast friends with the owner and her daughter - Amelia.

You glance outside and gasp, standing up. 

“Come on! look at the sunset!” 

You rush out to the front deck, wide eyed and giddy at the pure beauty of the sunset. Tae trails behind, watching you watch the colors paint the evening sky. 

“Can you believe it’s over?” You ask her. “No more coming to the Hard Deck, no more Apollo or Clipper, and pretty soon we’ll be deployed on the other side of the world.”

Tae sighs. 

“You know what I think? I think this experience will stay with us forever. I’ll always remember the pranks we pulled on the guys and the late night beach walks. It’s like graduating high school. or the academy. This chapter of life is over, and we need to move on.”

You give her a wry smile. 

“You know, you may be a dumbass ninety five percent of the time, but you do give some damn good advice.”

“Want another?”

you nod.

“You’re a damn good pilot. You’re top of the class for a reason. Don’t you ever forget that.”

you meet her eyes.

“Duchess-“

“Hey. You with me?”

Maverick snaps his fingers in your face, trying to snap you out of your daze. you shake out your neck.

“Yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was telling you I’ve never seen a plunge like that executed correctly, and then you zoned out on me.”

You focus your gaze on a spot on the horizon.

“Yeah, uh, I was just remembering.. something.”

He looks at you, doing a once-over, face skeptical. He almost looks.. concerned? Again, you wonder, if you were in another life, would he be worried for you, his daughter, instead of you, his pilot. 

“Anything you wanna talk about?”

Yes. You’ll understand. You’re probably the only one here who would. 

You smile sadly.

“Goodnight, Captain.”

he filled the holes that you burned in me at six years old 

The next morning, Maverick sends you all an email to wear “beach clothes you can run around in”, so you, Phoenix and Halo all put on your shorts and sports bras, and Halo puts on a t-shirt. The email also ordered you to meet in front of the Hard Deck, so that’s what you do.

You leave significantly earlier than the rest of the group specifically to see Amelia, who you still haven’t seen since coming back to the base. You tap your knuckles on the doorframe, drawing her attention. She looks at you, looks again, gasps and sprints towards you in some kind of flying tackle- hug. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, squeezing her tight and spinning her around in a circle. “You got big!”

Amelia giggles into you. 

“Mom told me you were back. I almost didn’t believe her.”

“Well, I couldn’t just never see my favorite tea party partner again, now could I?”

Amelia pulls away, observing you. Her eyes brighten as she remembers your tea parties from when you were in Top Gun.

“I’d forgotten about those! And Tae would bring those little cucumber sandwiches!” 

Her face falls in a frown.

It’s like a sneak attack, having someone mention her in passing. You’d been up almost the whole night before trying to calm the memories that have been resurfacing since your return to Miramar.

“I miss her.”

Sometimes you forget that Tae was almost as close to Penny and Amelia as you were. She would always come with you to watch Amelia and hang with Amelia and Penny on the slow nights. 

“Me, too.”

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” Penny comes over to you from the storeroom and hugs you. She then holds you at arms’ length and looks you up and down. “Now, I know you’re busy, but tomorrow isSaturday, and I’d love for you to come for dinner like we used to.” 

The unspoken with Tae beats down on you. You glance out of the window to see the rest of the squad gathered there in varying forms of swimwear. Most of the guys are wearing obnoxiously printed swim shorts, obviously wearing no shirts. 

“That sounds… great. I’ll be by. Text me, okay? I have to go.” You give Amelia another squeeze and beeline out of the bar, joining the group of your fellow pilots. 

Maverick’s the last to get here, wearing a white shirt and a pair of jeans, holding two footballs.

He introduces the game: dogfight football, offense and defense at the same time. It doesn’t really sound like there are very many rules in the game, only that you get touchdowns occasionally. 

He also divides the teams. You and Phoenix are together, Bradley too. 

And then you’re starting and you have actually no idea what you’re supposed to be doing; you never were adept at playing football. 

You’ve been paired up with Hangman, who must be going easy on you, because you get past him every time, even scoring a touchdown once. About half and hour in, he strikes a deal with Phoenix.

“Okay, Trace. Here’s the deal,” he says between plays. “The next touchdown, if it’s your team, I’ll buy a round for everyone the next time we all go out.”

“okay,” Phoenix glance at your team. You’re all looking pretty skeptical, as you should. “What’s the catch?”

“I my team gets the next touchdown…” he drags out. He leans in and whispers in her ear. Her face breaks into a cautious smile.

“Deal, Bagman, but I’m just warning you, that’s an awful deal on your part.”

He shrugs, flashing you a perfect smile. 

The next touchdown goes to Halo, who’s on Hangman’s team, and everyone turns expectantly to him, wondering what the bet was. He walks up to Phoenix, dips her and presses his lips to hers.

You let out a wolf whistle. She breaks the kiss and flips you off before pulling Hangman in for another one.

Coyote’s making a point of covering Bob’s eyes. Rooster has a hand over his mouth, pretending to retch and you jog over to him, patting him on the back, face splitting in a smile.

Penny shares a look with Maverick as they watch the two young people kiss. She’s smiling, and that makes him smile. 

“What do you think of her, now that you’ve flown with her?”

She nods at the pilot in question. 

There’s so much he can say about her: smart, confident, thoughtful. Reckless and sassy and a little bit too stubborn. She’s talented, anyone can see that, maybe even the best on the squad, but she’s holding back.

She’s hesitant to fly with anyone but herself, even leaving her comrades out in the open in favor of shooting down the enemy, which is surprising, considering her most recent deployment.

Her deployment. He finally got around to looking into that, the incident that sent her into leave for more than half of the last year. 

The report had been brief: routine patrol, they had gone to investigate a distress signal, not enough ammo or fuel. Someone detonated a missile too close. Duchess went down. Majesty took down three bandits in the span of five minutes before her aircraft was too damaged to continue flying.

There had been no saving duchess. she was waterlogged and impaled with a scrap of metal before Majesty was even there to save her. 

Very, very traumatic. 

It reminds him of Goose.

he’s surprised she’s even willing to fly at all after that.

“In all seriousness?” Maverick looks out over the game. She’s awful at football. Can’t throw a spiral. “She’s a good kid. Even better pilot. She’s been the closest to finishing the course out of all of them.”

She glances over at the two of them, waving to penny before jumping for the ball. 

“She reminds me of you,” Penny tells him. “You’re more similar than either of you know.”

Admiral Kazansky, AKA Iceman has been a mentor to you since the beginning. He’d taken a liking to you and your reckless flying when you’d first joined the Naval academy. Said you reminded him of a friend of his. You’d always thought he meant his wingman, and he had, but more recently, you’d realized that his wingman was the one and only Maverick, AKA Pete Mitchell, AKA your dad. 

You knock on the door and his wife lets you in. Her eyes are red and puffy.

“Sarah…” you say, hugging her. “It’s back?”

she shakes her head. 

“we don’t know. he can’t even talk without the pain coming back.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t-“

“He’s in his office,” she tells you gently. “You know he always wants to see you.”

You purse your lips, smiling tightly. 

“Thanks, Sarah.”

You ease the door to Ice’s office open, He turns to face you. He’s paler, gaunter, and wearing an overcoat and a scarf. you know enough to know he’s not doing well.

“Hey, Ice.” 

He points at the seat across from him.

Right. He can’t talk.

“I had to see you.” You sit down and reach into your purse. “Kevin sent me this.”

You pull out the wrinkled, folded photograph and hold it out to him. His shaky hands pull it taut as he squints at it. You hold your breath, waiting for some kind of surprise to show on his face. Something, anything. 

“Did you know? Is that why you kept me around?”

Your voice shakes uncontrollably. Like most things recently, you want to be angry, but you just don’t have the strength or conviction anymore. You just want to know.

Ice hands you the photo back and types on the computer. 

Yes.

No.

your breath catches. 

“How long?”

Since we met.

You sigh shakily. 

“Why? why didn’t you tell me?”

Ice stares at you. 

You stare back. 

“How long did the doctor say you have?”

Weeks. 

You gnaw at your lip. 

“I don’t want to lose you, too.”

You’re not going to.

You shake your head, wiping under your eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. 

Losing Ice hurts. He’d always been there for you when you needed to talk. Even now, when he can’t use his voice. 

He clears his throat.

“Tell… him.” His voice is raspy and wet. It grates on your ears like it must on his throat.

you nod vigorously. 

“I will. I just… I want him to like me, you know? before he feels obligated to, I mean.” you stare at the picture of the two of them on Ice’s desk. “I don’t even know if he’d be happy to know.”

He will.

there’s a soft knock on the doorframe. It’s Maverick. Of course it is.

You grip Ice’s hand.

“Looks like your next appointment is here.” Your laugh is wet. “Bye, Ice.”

You nod to your father as you leave. his brow is furrowed in confusion, but he nods back.

Penny and Amelia’s house is one thing in North Island that’s always stayed the same. the smell of candles burning constantly, amelia’s artwork hanging on the walls, (which, admittedly, has gotten a lot better over the last few years) and the little bits of clutter scattered around the house. 

You’ve dressed up a bit, put on some makeup and washed all the gel out of your hair for the occasion. when you get there, Amelia drags you to her room almost before you can say hello to penny. 

“Okay. Where’s the fire?” You tease, once the door is shut and you’re sitting on Amelia’s bed. She’s giddy in anticipation to tell you her news. 

“I have tea,” she whispers conspiratorially. You lean in.

“Lay it all out for me.”

“Mom had Mav over last night.” her tone is smug. She’s obviously very happy to be able to tell you this news. “He tried to sneak out but I caught him. And,” she looks around and lovers her voice even more. “He’s coming over for dinner tonight!”

“No!”

“yes!”

“That’s crazy.”

It’s crazy that you literally keep running into him. It’s not like you’re avoiding Maverick, per se, but you still don’t know how to break the news to him. 

Hey man, great lesson today. Oh, by the way, I’m the daughter you didn’t even know you had because my mom ran away when she found out she was pregnant. Yeah, I know it’s fucked up. If I was on good terms with her I would ask why, but she only calls me when she’s drunk. 

That’d go over well.

Amelia crosses her arms.

“That’s my tea. Now, tell me yours. Tell me about Top Gun.”

You look around her room. She repainted the walls a shade of yellow that you love. There are pictures hanging on the walls. One, a big one over her desk, is your favorite picture: a selfie you took of you, Amelia and Tae when you took her to Malibu to learn to surf.

“I love that picture,” you admit. Amelia nods, getting up to remove it from the wall. “Top Gun’s… not the same without her. Nothing is.”

Amelia’s always been wise for her age.

“I see her everywhere. I mean, I know I don’t, but I do.”

You smile tightly.

Grief sure is strange. Even Amelia feels the loss of Tae heavily.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“Girls! dinner!”

“What were you two talking about in there that was so important I couldn’t be part of the conversation?” Penny asks over the steak she’s prepared. 

“Oh… nothing…” you take a sip of water.

“Just how Y/n’s in looooooooove,” Amelia singsongs.

You shoot Amelia a dirty look.

“We were actually talking about how the two of you have been canoodling.”

Maverick stops, his fork hanging in midair. Penny’s expression is priceless. 

“Yeah, I mean why else would Mav be invited to Saturday dinner?” Amelia asks. You nod along with her sagely.

“This used to be a girls night,” you explain to him. “When Duchess and I were in Top Gun.”

“ah,” is all he says.

You pat your pocket, remembering the gift you had brought for Amelia and Penny.

“Actually, we were just talking about how Tae and I would take Amelia out on the weekends,” you tell Penny. “And I just remembered I brought this for you guys.”

You take the strip of photos from your pocket. It’s a photo booth strip from a long weekend taken to Disney. All four of you are smushed into the booth, wearing matching Minnie ears, leaning into each other and grinning.

“I have a copy, so you keep that.”

Penny admires it, sad smile forming on her lips. Amelia peeks over her shoulder, grinning. You avoid Tae’s eyes. They used to pierce you. The still do.

“I’d like to toast.” Penny raises her glass, setting the strip down. “To new beginnings.”

“to new beginnings,” you agree. 

You don’t get very far into dinner before your phone rings. You decline the call. five seconds later, it’s ringing again. 

Decline.

“Do you need to take that?” Mav asks (he’s gotten you to stop calling him sir, finally.) and you shake your head.

“It’s my mom. Hang on.”

Penny and you share a look. She raises an eyebrow. you shake your head.

Nothing to worry about. 

You’re suddenly very hot as you excuse yourself from the table. you’re not quite out of the kitchen when you pick it up. 

“Mom?”

“Y/n? Is this my disappointment of a daughter?”

you sigh into the phone, staying silent. Her jab sends tears welling up in your throat. Spending time with Amelia and Penny has always reminded you of the mother you could’ve had. 

“Where’s your deposit? Where’s the money you owe me for giving you life and a roof over your head?”

You hurry to ease the door shut. The deposit. Goddamn. She’s sober enough to remember it. Ever since you moved out, you’ve been wiring her deposits every month to make sure she keeps living. You’d hoped it was enough to send her to rehab, but she refused to go. 

“The deposit?” you say faintly, heart dropping. 

Her voice gets thin and screechy over the line. You can’t bring yourself to pull the phone away from your ear as she spits barbs at you. You cover your mouth to muffle the wet sobs escaping your throat. 

“You never wanted what’s best for your family! You left me for the Navy. You’ve never done anything right and that girl - Tae - died because of it.”

She’s never gone there before.

And you’ve never had anyone lay it out for you. 

“Mom. mom. mom, stop!” You gasp out. “Everything I’ve done if for you! The money, the house, I stayed. For you!”

You don’t hear the porch door swing open. 

“I didn’t owe you anything! I never did! I didn’t ask for you to have me!” 

Your mother begins to argue with that, that you forced her to have you. You cut her off with a gut wrenching cry.

“I JUST WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME!”

You tear the phone from your ear and slam your thumb on the red button. 

“Y/n.”

Penny. 

You drop your phone, defeated. Penny reaches out hesitantly and uses her fingers to wipe your cheeks. 

She’s hugging you and you’re crying before you can even know what’s happening. 

To new beginnings.

begged you to want me, but you didn’t want to.

“Rooster.”

he’s pissed, drinking his second bottle.

“Rooster.”

You sit down next to him. 

“What do you want?” he snarls. You gingerly put your hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

He leans into your hand. You sigh. 

“Phoenix and Bob are gonna be okay. I went to see them before I came here. They’re not injured. Just shaken up.”

He slams his bottle on the table. You finch away.

“Did Maverick send you?”

“what? No.”

Surprisingly, it had been Hangman who told you that Rooster was sulking in the Hard Deck. He’d seemed worried about him, so you went to check up on him.

“He likes you, you know. Thinks you’re a good pilot.”

“I am a good pilot.” You nudge his shoulder. “But so are you. So are Phoenix and Payback and Coyote.”

“He pulled my papers, you know. So he must not think I’m that good.”

You hesitate. this has always been a sore subject for Rooster. Saying the wrong thing could result in making it worse- not better. 

“He flew with your dad, right?”

Rooster rubs his face and takes another swig from his bottle. 

“Yeah. But I’m not my dad. He thought I’d-“

“Maybe he was just scared, you know? Maybe he cared so much for you that he didn’t want to lose you.”

If he had known that you were his daughter, would he have pulled your papers, too? Or would he have wanted you to be like him, be a pilot in the Navy? 

“whose side are you on?” Rooster snaps. “You’re saying the same things I’ve heard my whole career. No one thinks the great Maverick could make a mistake, I guess.”

“that’s not what i’m saying, Bradley!” you take a deep breath. “Like it or not, he cares about you. You’re the closest thing to a -“

You cut yourself off, because, strictly, Rooster isn’t the closest thing he has to a child that he has. You gulp back the words. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Can I… tell you something? But you have to swear not to tell anyone else.”

“I won’t,” Rooster promises. You hold out your pinky, and he stares at it. You raise your eyebrows at him. he looks around, no doubt making sure there’s no one who would make fun of him for pinky swearing, and interlocks his pinky with yours. 

You reach into your pocket, retrieving the wrinkled, folded picture and hand it to him.

“That’s my mom,” you say, pointing to the woman. “and that…”

“That’s Maverick!” Rooster looks triumphant in his revelation. “So, what, Mav dated your mom?”

“No! Well, yeah, but that’s not what i was trying to tell you. Look at the date on the picture.”

Rooster squints and brings the paper closer to his eye.

“Wait. That’s..”

“twenty six years ago, and ten months after that was taken, I was born.” 

Rooster drops the picture, mouth falling open. He’s staring at your face, no doubt picking out features reminiscent of Mav’s. You shift uncomfortably.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“I know!”

“Does he know?”

You hesitate. He might. There’s been a lot on his plate, though, and your last name could be forgettable if they only dated a couple of months twenty some years ago. 

“No. I don’t think so.”

Roosters eyes widen.

“Wait so I can’t tell anyone?”

he groans when you nod.

“Y/nnnn you can’t just dump this on me and tell me I can’t tell anyone! That’s too much pressure!”

 You snap your fingers in his punting face.

“You listen to me, Bradley Bradshaw. If you tell a single person I will hunt you down and slice you into tiny pieces and then cook you and let Hangman feed you to his horses.”

You cackle at the pure, unadulterated fear in his eyes. “That’s right. I remembered your deathly fear of horses, bitch!”

He’s pale, but his face breaks into a smile.

“I’m glad you’re back to normal, Majesty. You had me scared there for a second.”

You know what he means. Since Tae died, for a while, you had no will to do anything or see anyone- in other words, you were super duper depressed. Lately, you’ve felt lighter, like you can laugh and smile again without feeling guilty. 

Here’s to new beginnings.

disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about how planes work or flying or anything like that

[storiesofsvu]

Learn to Share

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut, dirty talk, some dom/sub dynamics, nothing too crazy this time lol. Covers the "only one bed" square for xmas bingo and the "forced proximity" for @resanoona 3k bingo! Also covers a prompt requested by anon.

It was honestly a miracle that the BAU had managed to not only wrap their last case, but get home, finalize paperwork and have nothing else come up before Christmas Eve. Everyone was beyond thankful for that since it was the night of the annual Christmas at Rossi’s party, nothing too fancy, or too huge, usually just the team and any respective partners that wanted to come maybe a few extra agents or assistants that helped them out majorly through the year. The evening was full of laughter, amazing food, fancy wines, expensive bourbons and an all around sense of family and quality relaxation time.

Once dinner was finished, dishes were left for the morning and the party would end up spreading its way through the house. There were often cigars being smoked out back, Dave wandering through the rooms showing off any new fancy things he’d collected over the year or telling stories of his wild days. As the night wore on and the candles began to burn low the crowd would begin to dwindle, people slipping off into the night after a quiet goodbye and Merry Christmas, knowing they had family to see early the next morning. Eventually it was only Dave, Spencer, Tara, you and Emily left in the living room, fresh glasses of wine poured, alcohol flowing through your veins, keeping you warm and relaxed, helping everyone let go a little bit more than normal. Dave always extended the offer from dinner to everyone able to stay overnight, considering just how much alcohol he had provided it was the smart choice. Spencer was tipsily rambling on about one theory or another, pulling laughter from the girls as Rossi drained his glass, letting out a small groan as he stood from the couch.

“It’s late. You kids know where the guest rooms are.”

There was a chorus of goodnights as he reminded everyone they were more than welcome to stay as long as they wanted and breakfast would be available in the morning before he disappeared down the hall. Spencer’s theory finally wrapped up a bit later and Tara finished her drink, moving to put her wine glass in the sink.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Emily protested with a laugh and Tara chuckled.

“There’s four of us and only three rooms, I just bunked with Reid all week, it’s not happening again tonight. Besides, you two had private suites, learn to share.” She teased.

Emily let out a mock offended scoff as Spencer tried to object and you laughed rolling your eyes at Tara as she flashed the group a smile and a wave along with good night. It didn’t take much longer before you were yawning, doing your best not to lean into Emily’s shoulder as you finished your drink.

“Guys…” you started, “never thought I’d be this person, but I think it’s bedtime for me.” You sat up stretching your body out with a soft groan, “see you in the morning.” You shot Emily a lingering look as you moved from the couch, your glass finding home on the kitchen island before you wandered down the hall.

You would forever and always be thankful for Rossi and his level of hospitality extending beyond anyone you’d ever experienced. There were unopened toothbrush packages and makeup wipes in the en suite you were able to help yourself to, along with some cozy clothes stashed in the guest room’s closet. You simply tugged down a comfy cotton t-shirt, pulling it over your bare body before plugging in your phone and letting out a happy sigh as you shifted under the covers.

You weren’t surprised at the small murmur of voices in the hallway before the light flicked off, the sound of the other guest room door clicking shut and the door to your guest room opened, Emily slipping through it with a grin on her face, the soft lamplight washing her in a golden glow.

“You coming for a sleepover?” You greeted with a grin and she laughed quietly.

“You heard Tara.” Her hands moved to her shirt, sliding down the buttons she undid them, “apparently it’s our turn to share.”

“If only they knew just how much sharing we had done this week.” You purred, sitting up as you shifted onto your knees and Emily chuckled.

“Are you gonna be quiet this time?” She raised a brow, beginning to crawl up the bed, “because I’ll only touch you if you’re quiet…. I don’t want you to risk waking anyone up again.”

“I’ll be good.” Your breath caught in your throat, “I promise…”

“Good.” One of her hands wrapped around the back of your head, pulling her to you, her lips brushing against yours when she spoke, “such a shame there’s only one bed.”

“It is a king… could build a wall of pillows?” You offered with a grin and Emily chuckled, her breath warm on your skin.

“I was thinking we could take advantage of it….”

“Hmm… I do like the sound of that better.” You barely had moment to let out a huff of a laugh before Emily’s lips were on you. Your hands fell to her bare waist, wrapping around her and pulling her body tight to you while her hand wove into your hair.

The kiss built up, starting slow, a familiar dance between all too familiar lips until Emily’s tongue slid across the seam of your lips, her teeth nipping into your lower lip and you groaned. She took the opportunity to sink her tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of you she could while her free hand started to toy with the hem of the shirt you had on. Your hands drifted upward, swiftly un doing her bra and she tossed it to the floor before her hands tickled up your bare thighs, tugging at the hem of your shirt. The kiss broke long enough for her to pull the garment over your head and it joined the growing pile on the floor.

“So fucking gorgeous.” She cooed, nudging you backwards towards the pillows, “lie back for me baby.”

You did as she asked, getting comfortable on the bed as she stepped off it to rid herself of the rest of her clothing, smirking at the way your eyes lingered on her body as if you were trying to memorize every inch. A hand on the mattress she settled over you, lips meeting yours again, this kiss deeper than the last while her hand snuck between your legs. The tips of her fingers began to play with your pussy, trailing through them feather light, teasing you, leaving you whining for more.

“Quiet…” she warned, “can’t have us getting caught…”

“Sorry M’am.” You murmured in return as Emily kissed across your jaw, her lips trailing down your neck, teeth scratching at your skin ever so lightly until she bit deeply into your pulse point and your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the gasp escaping your lips.

“That’s my good girl.” Her lips curved into a grin against your skin as they trailed across your body, her tongue swiping across your collarbone before her lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking it into her mouth while her tongue flicked across it. Her finger tips continuing to tease you, the heel of her hand randomly pressing against your clit as your hips rocked upwards in need of more.

She sunk lower on your body, lips leaving little kisses and love bites on your hips and thighs until she was settled between your legs. Her hand ran up your cunt, smearing wetness across it while her fingers widened, spreading you open for her and you let out a breathy sigh. It was only a moment later her mouth was on you, kissing at your folds, tongue slipping as deep into as you could and you bit back a moan, your fingers clenching into the bedspread. Emily continued to eagerly lap at your pussy, groaning into it, the vibrations pulling quiet whimpers from you as she buried herself between your legs. You were doing your absolute best to keep quiet, knowing just how easy it would be to be overheard by any of the others. But when Emily’s hand snuck up to join her mouth, her lips shifted up wrapping around your clit and she sucked, hard and you weren’t expecting it.

“Oh fuck!” The moan left your lips before you even realized and even faster Emily’s hand and mouth left your cunt, instead, her teeth quickly and sharply bit into your thigh, “oww!” You hissed in a whisper and she raised an unimpressed brow in your direction when she looked up at you. “That hurt!”

“And you had one rule sweetheart.” She husked back, “shame I can’t spank you, that certainly would call attention to what we were up to. Guess you’ll have to get that punishment tomorrow night. Now…another outburst like that and I’m shoving your panties in that dirty little mouth of yours, understood?”

“Yes ma’am…” your breath caught in your throat, hitching when her mouth returned to your pussy, slowly licking through you before gently wrapping around your clit once more. You tugged your lip into your teeth, holding back any noises aside from quiet whimpers as Emily’s fingers sunk into your pussy. She let out a quiet groan at the feeling of you tightly wrapping around her, how wet you already were, juices slicking her fingers within seconds. She twisted and curled them within you until she found that sensitive spot and your hips jolted up off the bed, a soft gasp leaving your lips and she smirked against your body.

“Right there?” She murmured, pressing on the spot again and you nodded, eyes tightly scrunching shut, “you like it when I touch you here?”

“Oh god Em!” It was barely above a whisper, a shuddering breath following it as she continued to brush against the spot, chuckling softly before her mouth returned to your swollen nub.

Her lips wrapped around it, sucking it into her mouth while her tongue flicked patterns against it, harder and faster until you were trembling under her. Her fingers worked in tandem, feeling the way your cunt began to flutter around her, your clit pulsing in her mouth in the same rhythm. Fire was burning through you, your body shivering with each touch of Emily’s fingers or mouth, each pass of either bringing you more and more pleasure. You let out a muffled cry when the fire broke the surface, biting down so hard on your lip you swore you’d broken the skin. Emily’s lips slipped from your clit when you orgasm hit, watching the way your juices lightly dribbled out of you, leaking down her wrist as your body shook on the bed.

“That’s my good girl… so pretty…” She praised before her fingers slipped out of you and she delicately licked around your pussy, cleaning up the smeared juices before she crawled back over you, straddling your hips and she extended her slicked fingers to you. You eagerly accepted them into your mouth, lips wrapping around them as you sucked them clean. “Taste so good sweetheart, thought I should share.”

“Thank you.” You breathed out and she chuckled at the way you dropped back against the pillows.

“Oh I’m not done. I know you can handle another one.” She sat up on her knees, shifting lower on your body as she swatted at your hip, “roll over.”

You did as she asked and she grasped at your hips, pulling you up on your knees while your head remained buried the pillows. Her knee nudged at your leg, shoving yours further apart so she was able to settle between them, a hand running up your back, pressing you into the pillows and you let out a quiet groan. Her free hand trailed up the inside of your leg, fingers brushing through your still dripping pussy before her thumb sunk in as deep as it could and moaned softly into the pillows. Your hips began to rock back onto her hand, fucking yourself on her digits as you moved and she leant over you, pressing a kiss to the small of your back.

“That’s my good girl.” Her fingers pinched your clit before they swapped places with her thumb, sinking deep into your cunt. With each thrust of her hand her hips rocked forward, body meeting yours as your hips thrusted back, eager for more, for her fingers to find that spot within you again. “Just like that… you keep fucking yourself on my fingers alright sweetheart?”

“Need more…” you whined softly and she huffed a laugh out, fingers curling within you as she picked up the pace, her body rocking into yours with more force, fingers moving faster and going as deep as they could into your wetness.

“I guess you’ve been good enough for a bit of a reward.” She purred, her free hand moving from your hip to the bag you hadn’t even noticed her bring into the room.

Your head dropped onto your arms, chest beginning to heave as your cunt fluttered around her fingers, your body burned, ached to be stuffed with her cock, but you knew that wasn’t going to be able to happen tonight. Though, you couldn’t really complain about that, Emily was just as good with her hands and mouth and judging by the punishment comment earlier, you would get everything you desired in the very near future. Her hand crooked within you, finding your g-spot once again and the pillows muffled your cry as your fingers tightened into the bedspread. You barely heard the click of the small vibrator being turned on but you certainly felt it as Emily pressed it onto your clit.

“Fuck…” you muttered, your hips jolting back towards her as it began to rub at your body.

“Give me another one, I know you’ve got it in you.” She practically growled, her fingers flicking faster within you as she turned the vibe up a notch and you gasped. She could see the sheen of sweat glimmering on your skin as pleasure rocked through you, your thighs had began to shake, your hips faltering as you continued to try to fuck yourself on her hand.

She picked up the pace of her hand, making sure she was giving you everything she could, pressing the vibrator harder against your throbbing clit before she turned it up to the highest speed. It was quiet, but the room was full of dirty noises, your squelching pussy, juices leaking down your thighs and onto Emily’s wrist, the quiet cries and whimpers muffled into the pillows as you tried to not moan, the whir of the vibrator.

“You’re almost there, I can feel it baby, let go for me.” She cooed, fingers brushing right over the sensitive spot, pressing harder and lingering for a second longer than the last thrust and you couldn’t help it, your orgasm tore through you like a wildfire.

“Oh fuck Emily!” The cry was louder than you’d intended and you winced the best you could as your body dropped to the mattress, shaking and trembling with pleasure. Emily clicked the vibrator off, her fingers slowing down, gently fucking you through your orgasm, watching the way your body twitched as she did so before she finally pulled them from you, sucking them clean. “Sorry.” You whimpered, little shivers and soft cries leaving you as pleasure surged through your nerves.

Emily’s hand softly ran up and down your back, nails scratching into your hair ever so softly as you continued to come down from your peak, a whimper escaping your lips whenever her nails traced over a sensitive spot of your body. A quiet knock on the door made both of you jump, Emily beginning to scramble to get the both of you under the covers as Spencer’s soft voice floated through the air.

“Is someone crying?” He asked and you stifled a laugh as Emily struggled to come up with an answer quickly.

“I—uh, accidentally elbowed her in the face, we’re fine.”

“You sure?” He asked quietly and you let out a quiet shriek at the sound of the doorknob turning.

“Yup!” You called back quickly, “totally fine, just hit the cheek. Serves me right for being a blanket hog.”

“…okay…” He replied and the two of you held your breath until his footsteps faded down the hallway. You heard his bedroom door click shut and a fit of quiet giggles took over you as Emily scowled down at you, swatting at your ass.

“I told you to be quiet.”

“Well then I guess I’m getting extra spankings for Christmas.” Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you looked up at her and she playfully rolled her eyes.

“Damn right you fucking are.”

__________

@svulife-rl @ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @andreasvu @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @leelizzzle @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @loverllyhurtswithoutyou @disneyfan624 @bluetodie @borg-queer

[writing-whump]

Will there be another part of the Rip’s arc?

I would love to see Isaiah’s thoughts on everything Rip told him, and more of Dylan’s thoughts and feelings about the entire situation. Maybe you can write something about Dylan feeling a bit under the weather, because of stress and fatigue because of everything that happened, with Sel or Isaiah as rhe caretakers, if you go with Sel maybe there can also be a talk between Sel and Isaiah. If you write something inspired by my ask feel fre to change anything however you’d like.

Also is there any fics with Mat as the sickie on the horizon?

Maybe i'm wrong or misundersanding something, but Matt seems upset in recent chapters. Can we explore it a little? Somebody in comments mentioned about him interacting with Rip, i think it could be interesting.... (nothing specific. I'm simply curious how this new situation would evolve... For everyone) A.

We dived into Isaiah's perspective last time, so let's see some of Matthew's. Right guess that he was upset! Also Matt getting sick from some internal turmoil. Thank you for the asks :D

The weight of shadows

"You should get some sleep," Seline said as she stepped into the kitchen in the early morning.

Dylan was probably in the process of making coffee or something to eat, judging by the empty cup by his head currently pillowed on his hands on the dining table.

"I'm fiiiine," he said, speech all slurred.

Seline came up behind him, running her hand through her little brother's hair. He was always a ball of energy, always up for adventure and seeking trouble.

She had never seen him as dedicated to something as she saw him taking care of Rip.

"Seriously. He is steady, there is three of us—"

"Isaiah's not here," Dylan protested, not opening his eyes.

"Yes, but me and Matt are. And he is stronger now, manages to move on his own. I think it's safe to take a break."

"Can't have him around another wolf, you know it."

"Soon enough you will be in your own apartment and he will feel safer too. But there is not that much that can happen. Go take a nap on the couch." Her hand slipped to his nape and to his shoulders, shaking him a little.

"Hmmmm....will you take it up with mom?"

Seline made a face, glad he couldn't see it. Dylan finding a place of his own would be good news, except they couldn't exactly tell their mother he was helping a stray wolf with a stab wound. She would string up five theories of drugs, gangs and more stab wounds in the future.

They have both settled on not disclosing the more brutal and dangerous details of wolf lives to their very human parents. Seline kept moderately safe with her two bodyguards, but Dylan usually jumped from one friend to another. Not long or accepted enough to be part of any fights.

Even if fights were a lot more common and "natural" for wolves, than they were for normal teens on crazy hormones picking fights and posturing like roosters with big muscles.

Gentle footsteps from the stairs had her head turning backwards.

Matthew came into the kitchen. He made a lot less noise these days, creeping around his own apartment and pack. Just to put Rip and Dylan at ease.

Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. He looked pale, hair all ruffled and he kept his distance as he came through the kitchen, settling in the farthest corner from them as possible.

She kissed Dylan on top of head, one more little nudge to his shoulders to take the couch and get some sleep, before heading over to the red-haired wolf.

Matt looked up and then down, as if shy although she knew he was anything but.

"Do I smell like him too much?" Seline said quietly, leaning against the wall next to Matthew. She didn't want to upset him by touching him.

Matthew shook his head, his lips pressed so tightly together they were almost transparent.

Dylan seemed to have picked up on the mood and dragged himself upright. A loud thud came from the living room as he collapsed over the backrest of the couch into the cushions.

Matthew stayed silent still. Something about that rigid defeated posture had her stomach sinking.

"Lots of foreign wolves you can't fight, right? Must be hard," Seline said tentatively into the silence.

Matthew shook his head. When he wasn't talking it could as well be he was having troubles with it because of his shadow.

But he was unsually quiet for the whole past week. And she didn't exactly feel fighting intention from him.

If Isaiah was here, he could probably tell what was wrong.

Her own lack of understanding frustrated her. She turned towards him, reaching out with a hand. "Can I?"

Matthew hesitated, then nodded.

Seline moved slowly, giving him time to take his decision back. She wrapped her hands around him, loosely and then snuggly, when he didn't protest.

The effect wasn't immediate, but as she held him, he slumped against her.

She huffed under the weight, surprised and pleased. It didn't feel complete when she wasn't with him, when she wasn't getting her dose of his closeness, his shadow, his scent.

His arms came around her back and he buried her nose in her shoulder, taking deep breaths. As if being able to breathe after a long time under water.

...

Matthew felt entirely stupid and out of place, gripping the railing on the balcony.

Though being held by Seline he was proud that her suggestion wasn't true - he didn't feel any inclination of fighting either the hurt kid or her little brother.

On the other hand, he was horrified that was on her mind and that he would feel happy with himself for achieving something like that.

Feeling like a stranger when his place was invaded by pack outsiders was something his shadow struggled with. But he also felt strangely...protective.

They were young, so lost and in his layer. Isaiah was accepting of them, making up solutions and promises.

Seline was taking care of Rip and everyone could see how caring she was towards Dylan.

Maybe all that contributed to Matt feeling like they were his responsibility. In his care. He had never felt it with younger wolves. He had not felt it until he, Sel and Isaiah formed a pack.

Then what was this creeping sensation up his back? Why was his shadow, even if not let out for a longer time, twisting and turning, crawling under his skin?

He could barely string out a sentence. Blood was rushing in his ears like before a fight and his stomach hurt almost constantly now.

He didn't understand the reason, why being a witness of this made him upset, why it made his throat tight and his chest hurt. The walls seemed to be closing up on him.

Sitting still hurt, but it went against the other protective side of him that wanted to stay, wanted to be near.

Which went against his rationale that he should not, for Rip reacted with such deep-seated fear and agression whenever other wolf aside Dylan came near him, Matthew didn't dare even pass by his room.

Which was his own room, thank you.

His head was a mess of contradictory sensations and wants. He wanted to run. He wanted to stay. He couldn't stay. Something about Rip made his chest hurt, made him feel trapped and sympathetic, afraid and nostalgic.

Agressive shadow, huh? How was he supposed to be of any help, when he was the same?

Matthew had never lived on the streets. He was in a boarding school, usually alone. When he couldn't get his pack to train with him, to talk to him, to even look at him, he roamed the streets at night. Looked for strays, cause they never rejected a challenge, even if it came from him.

Even when his sisters were afraid of him, even if his mother scoffed at him. Even if he felt like he would drawn in the darkness and loudness of his own thoughts, his shadow wanting to tear something up. And he couldn't tell why or how and he didn't understand it and there was no one who could make it better.

He knew he was close to being just send to one of the Big Three to get rid of him.

That if there was an Executioner in town, he would have been considered for the list.

What was the difference between him and Rip then? If there was one to speak of.

Matthew paced the balcony up and down. The fresh air nor the view were helping. The sounds of the city coming to life for the day weren't helping.

He turned back inside only for the guilt to hit him, when he spotted Dylan passed out on the couch.

He couldn't help Rip by being near. He wanted to be near. He wanted to tear himself to shreds.

Matthew sped through the door and up the stairs as quick as he could.

Seline's hug, her touch and her calming presence helped. He could feel her sympathy even if she didn't understand what was wrong. Not like he understood it either.

He went into the bathroom, locking himself shut. His shadow was crawling up again, like a fan behind his back, licking the walls behind him like black flames.

He collapsed in front of the toilet, knees hitting the floor hard and heaved. His body convulsed, his stomach turning itself inside out as water and his meager dinner splashed inside.

He trembled, a hiccup shaking his chest. His stomach whined, cramping together and he heaved again, another watery wave hitting the porcelain. It came out thicker this time and he could feel it in his nose too.

He whimpered, hoping no one from downstairs could hear.

Time dragged. Matthew felt nauseous and spend. At no point safe enough to leave the bathroom.

When he wasn't heaving and gagging mouthfuls of liquid into the toilet, he was curled up underneath it around his cramping stomach.

He kept seeing little snippets of fights with street wolves and little strays. Flashes of the life on those streets, glad to have at least the dormitory to go to. That his pack cared at least that much, even if he was a burden and failure.

At times he must have passed out, because his wrist watch sometimes jumped forward, when he was zoning out. Lunch came and went.

Seline was knocking at the bathroom door at one time. He wasn't sure if he wasn't dreaming it up. She asked him if she could do something. Bring him something.

His shadow covering the walls and mirror of her bathroom, he felt too ashamed to let her in.

And if he saw even a flicker of fear in her eyes, he knew it would be his last drop, though he didn't know what that would entail.

A particularly strong cramp had him cradling his middle when a soft knock sounded against the door. Matthew didn't bother answering. Sending Seline away was just as painful as having her there—

Then a tiny click went from the door and it opened and closed just as quickly.

Matthew forced his bleary eyes open to find a familiar black-clothed figure sliding down to the floor at his side. "Oh, hey..." He didn't want to say that it took Isaiah damn near forever to come from his scheduled breakfast meeting with Arnie, just thankful he was finally home.

"Buddy, hey, what happened to you..." Isaiah's voice trailed off as he likely took in the state of the black-swirling bathroom. Matthew shut his eyes right back to not see any disappointment in his expression.

"How did you manage to unlock the door?"

"Shadows can slide under, you know? And picking up a lock with this easy mechanism is simple."

Matthew snorted, despite himself. "You'll have to show me that sometime." He must have looked pathetic in the fetal position by the toilet. Cold dread went through him as he couldn't remember if he flushed after the last bout of fruitless burping, only a mouthful of bile coming up.

Isaiah knelt beside him, hand resting on Matthew's neck and then gently against his cheek, as if checking for fever.

"W-won't stop," Matthew admitted quietly, glad to have control over his voice again. Both his hands were still tightly wrapped around his stomach as if the warmth could help with the insistent cramping.

"Shhhh." Isaiah stood up to wet a handtowel in cold water, dabbing it against Matthew's forehead. "It's so warm here, no wonder you are all clammy."

"Yeah, not a good season to be sick." His head was muddled from dehydration and his throat was rough as sandpaper. But the more tired he got, the less his thoughts swirled around. At least he was getting too exhausted to even torture himself.

"Come on, let's get you up," Isaiah said, not waiting for Matthew's permission to slide his hands under his back to pull him up. The black-haired wolf propped him up against the wall, shoulder to shoulder.

Matthew didn't like the jostling, curling back up again, this time into Isaiah's side. His hands stayed where they were, which made him a little imbalanced, but Isaiah held steadily under him. His arm came to readjust the cool towel around Matthew's neck and then to wrap around his shoulders to pull him even closer.

Matthew sighed contentedly. His leader's return meant part of the responsibility had shifted back to him, giving him one less thing to feel torn about.

Isaiah sat there, button-up shirt and black pants getting all wrinkly under Matthew's weight on the bathroom floor. Calm and patient as always, only thin lines around his eyes betraying his concern.

"You are feeling for the kid," Isaiah said into the silence. "But you two are not alike."

Matthew swallowed dryly, eyes shooting open at the words. His insides vibrated at the words. Somehow, it hit right.

"He has control problems with his shadow, and you see yourself in him because of that," Isaiah continued, his head tilted to the side in thought. "But the cause is different. You didn't have the right training, and you fight against your shadow too much because you were taught to see it as an enemy—something scary and dangerous to suppress and not to understand and comfort."

Matthew winced at the words, feeling himself sink forward into Isaiah's lap. A wave of helpless grief washed over him, but the embarrassment was burning away in face of Isaiah's understanding. Isaiah always somehow understood shadows better. Even Matthew's.

"Rip is different. His shadow is actually very much in synch with his feelings. It obeys him on an instinctual level. It's rare to see this kind of...harmony between the two. His shadow is his extended hand, his sword, his wings. He sees freedom and justice in it."

"But—when he can't stand other wolves—"

"That's because he feels that threatened by everyone. He lived in such a constant state of danger and vigilance he learned to see everyone the same way. He had no one to trust. When it goes on for too long, your shadow starts to embody it."

"Then why can't he tolerate humans?"

Isaiah sighed, his chest rising and falling under Matthew's ear. "That's a family reason, really. His father was human—and the one person who hurt him the most. Human weakness compared to wolves seems like a disguise now. He wants to attack them, although he knows he shouldn't. Our shadows are just reflections of our deepest feelings. No logic, no restraint, that's what he would like to do the most."

Matthew let out a surprised breath. Deep-seated desire to rip humans to shreds...yeah, even Matt wasn't that far gone. He was mostly angry at himself—at his shadow, not at others.

The knot in his stomach eased at the idea. No, they weren't that similar. Matthew wasn't that close to dying. Even if his control or rather, his relationship with his shadow, was actually worse than Rip's, their problems weren't identical.

Matthew could help with something like that much more than he could help with something he suffered from too.

His muscles unlocked and he slumped down, not realizing until then how rigidly he held himself together. He was sprawled over Isaiah like a puppet cut from its strings.

Isaiah let out a quiet but long exhale, leaning his head back. One hand went to Matthew's shoulder, while the other petted his hair absent-mindedly.

His shadow began to recede.

[peachyjinx]

On The Edge- Chapter 3: The Hunger

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: Loki, as usual, is a big flirt and driving you crazy. You finally find out why you can't orgasm (this chapter is all plot).

Warnings: This fic kind of goes into the non-consensual realm, Loki really is a jerk. But also he's also a sexy mischievous God so I'm into it...

Day 21

Ok things are definitely desperate now. You thought you were desperate weeks ago, but this is a whole other level. You laid sweaty in your sheets, hopelessness creeping in as you stared at the ceiling. The early morning light shined in, giving your room a soft, warm glow. 

This time, you had tried mixing it up while you masturbated, and thought of Eric. That kind, handsome man who looked like he walked straight off of the cover of a bodice ripper in the 90’s. Yet still- no orgasm. 

Eric had been out of town for work, so you’d still been unable to test Wanda's theory with a real dick. And to make matters worse, Loki had been insufferable. He’d increased his flirtations with you, which you can’t help but suspect is because he knows you and Eric are talking. 

Now Loki blatantly hits on you, and you thought you might die when he caressed the small of your back the other day when the team gathered for a meeting. It’s as if he’s constantly teasing you, keeping you right on the edge without relief. 

And it doesn’t help that none of the Avengers are currently on a mission. Everything has been calm, and all of your co-workers are around, making you even more stir crazy. You’ve busied yourself with museum trips and hanging with Wanda and Vision, but it’s not enough. 

But relief was just around the corner. Today Eric gets back, and the two of you have yet to make plans. You decide there’s no way you’re giving in to Loki now, especially with his performance at the fair and the fact that he only seems to want you when you’re interested in someone else. 

You took a deep breath, trying not to let yet another missed orgasm cloud your judgment as you texted Eric. Play it cool, and not like you’re miserably horny and in aching need for a good fuck. 

Hey, do you want to meet up tonight? 

Within a minute, Eric replied.

Yea, that’d be great! Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there ;)

A stupid grin spread across your face- you loved how easy it was with Eric. Here he was, excited to see you, and not teasing or messing with you in any way. Just available. You imagined Loki and Eric as a little devil and angel on your shoulder like those old cartoons and chuckled to yourself. You’ll go with the angel- it’s probably a better decision in the long run. You shook your head as you stood out of bed, mentally shaking off Loki and embracing Eric. 

What was it your grandma always said? “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone!”. You smirked to yourself, knowing how much it would piss off Loki to see you dating Eric. Good.

BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP

Suddenly, the alarms went off, and your eyes darted to the flashing red light in the corner of your room. OF COURSE there’s a mission when you’re literally hours from finally getting thoroughly fucked. 

-----

Day 23

Your mind wandered to Loki casually walking through the staff showers the other week. The way he sauntered with just a towel around his waist as he walked past you. You thought about his chest, strong and powerful, begging to be kissed. His abdominal muscles, perfectly carved and ready for you to run your nails down. That peek of hair below his belly button, trailing towards…

You snapped out of your intrusive and horny thoughts. 

You could feel his eyes on you as you looked anywhere else but his direction. The quarters were too close, Loki sat only a few feet across from you for the last hour. The Quinjet was quiet, but your brain was humming with anxious, dirty thoughts. You tried to focus on the equipment piled against the wall of the aircraft. 

You realized you were fidgeting with your feet and stopped, and stole a glance at Loki. Those piercing eyes were watching you, studying you. You felt yourself squirm as you immediately looked away. What is his problem? Your eyes drifted to Steve and Wanda in the cockpit flying your team home, and tried to figure out how much longer until you were back in the tower. Back to Eric.

The moment the aircraft landed, you jumped out of your seat, texting Eric with an update on your availability. 

“You seemed a bit distracted,” Loki chastised you as he followed you off of the Quinjet. You rolled your eyes, trying to move as quickly as possible to the showers. It was dinner time, and you were hungry for more than a meal. And you had a date- a sure thing.

"Whatever," you muttered as you marched down the hall, opting to go back to your room to clean up instead of the staff locker room. You were not in the mood for Loki’s shit tonight, you had a more serious mission- to have an orgasm. 

You stood at the elevator, ignoring Loki as he walked up behind you. You felt his strong hands wrap around your waist as he pulled you up against him. 

“Hey- what are you?-”, you could barely blurt out in shock as you looked around, wondering if anyone saw what he was doing. 

“If you need help…with your distraction…all you have to do is ask,” he purred in your ear, sending a chill down your body, making you shudder. You could feel his strong chest against your shoulders, his breath on the back of your neck. You had never been more turned on in your life, and your eyes closed for a moment as you felt yourself begin to melt into his body. Memories of his flirting, teasing, and dickish behaviour at the fair flashed through your mind.

You weren’t going to let him do this to you- toy with you because he was bored. The last month had been hell, and he has been making it infinitely more difficult. The flirting. The touching. And now…

All of your annoyance and pent up sexual frustration bubbled up and you exploded. 

“First of all, I was never distracted in the mission! And second of all, I can’t take this anymore, Loki!! Do you want me or not?! You’ve been fucking with my head too much, I can’t take it anymore!! Stop flirting with me, I’ve got a date tonight and I don’t need you messing with my head!!,” you screamed, stomping as you whipped your body away from his. 

Your face felt hot from anger and lust, and you glared at him, pointing a finger. His expression was even more enraging. Loki looked at you as if you were a sad puppy begging for a treat. Pity? He knowingly smirked at you as he always did, stepping to close the gap between you that you had created. 

“Family dinner downstairs, 5 minutes!”, Tony’s voice rang out over the intercoms.  

“God damnit, I have HAD IT with you people!!,” you stormed onto the elevator, holding up a hand to show Loki you didn’t want him to follow.

“What’s another few minutes before you’re off to your date with that buffoon?,” Loki asked, his playful demeanor irritating you. 

“At least Eric’s a nice man. Something you’d know nothing about!”, you spat out while glaring at him as the doors closed.

~~~~~~

Your shower was frenzied with anticipation. Your anger at Loki, not getting off, and desperation for release was all consuming. Every time your mind drifted to Loki holding you up against him, you shook your head and thought of Eric. 

Thankfully, this would all be resolved after dinner. You quickly threw on a cute outfit for drinks with Eric, and headed towards the dining hall the team shared for your “family dinners” as Tony liked to call them. 

A beautiful buffet was spread over tables featuring fresh fruits, roasted vegetables, game bird, and breads. It smelled amazing and reminded you that you were famished. 

“I could get used to these- it’s one reason to keep Loki around,” Nat elbowed you as you all sat down to the large table, with the enticing spread before you. A few weeks ago, Loki had created a similar spread for you all, and your stomach growled excitedly because you knew this one would also be delicious. 

You sat down next to Nat and immediately began filling your plate like your teammates. You saw Loki out of the corner of your eye and you ignored him. But of course he sat next to you. Could he irritate you any more?  

“My, you seem hungry this evening,” Loki noted, and you felt yourself immediately suspicious. What is this game? Why is he always messing with you?

“Well I need a full meal- I’m going out tonight and don’t want it to get too messy,” you snarkily responded, still not looking at him. 

“Ah, yes off to your date with that oaf, ” he drawled as he delicately picked at his food, not eating. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact- I am. And his name is Eric,” you snapped, acknowledging his presence with a glare. You tried not to focus on Loki, but you noticed he wore a black three piece suit with no tie, and the top buttons of his dark green shirt were unbuttoned. You reminded yourself that he’s also an asshole, and you had another hot man who wants you, and you needed to continue to focus on finishing your meal so you can get out as soon as possible.

Loki leaned closer to you, his breath hitting your ear as he lowered his voice. 

“What's the matter Darling, unable to bring yourself to completion on your own?", he asked, before leaning back with a knowing smile. 

“Huh?”, you eloquently replied, trying to assess what he meant. Did he mean…?

Loki leaned forward, his hand snaking to your leg under the table. Your cunt clenched from the electricity of his touch, and you felt your breath hitch. Loki leaned in close again, and you could swear you felt the touch of his lips on your earlobe. 

“Have you been unable to bring yourself the release you so achingly crave? Your lustful fantasies not bringing you the results that you need?”, Loki practically purred in his deep, melodic voice. 

You felt your heart sink in your chest as your cheeks heated up. How did he know? Your mind raced through a million thoughts a minute as you tried to piece together what was going on.

Loki knew you couldn’t orgasm. How did he know? Did Wanda tell him? You looked at him in shock, a devilish smile spread across his face as he popped a grape in his mouth.

“Loki…how did you know that?,” you asked as calmly as you could, trying to keep your voice down so no one could hear. You glanced around the table, and everyone was engrossed in their own conversations, not paying attention to the two of you. 

“Eric will be unable to satisfy you,” Loki spoke Eric’s name with a hint of venom as he sipped from a glass of wine and continued to ignore your question.

You sat still, confused for a moment.

How did he know that?

“What are you talking about??,” you asked with distress, looking into his icy blue eyes. He is so close, you can smell him- warm, leather undertones with a crispness like the pine trees in a forest on a cold day. You begin to feel dizzy, the heady thoughts of wanton sex and anger building in you. His hand drifted a bit, closer to your inner thigh. Your mini skirt gave easy access, and he was dangerously close to where you needed him. A small moan escaped your lips and Loki smirked. 

Loki reached forward on the table and offered you the exotic Asgardian fruit he'd conjured up, holding it up to your mouth to bite. 

“I remember you loved this fruit the last time I conjured one,” Loki showed you, the fruit was pear shaped and peach colored.

“Loki answer me,” you said with a warning in your voice, trying to replace your neediness with sternness as you set down your silverware.

He nodded to the fruit, and then his blue eyes flickered back to you.  You searched his eyes for answers, when a memory flashed through your mind. The fruit. 

Nearly a month ago. When you had all gotten back from that mission in Vancouver. Loki gave everyone a spread of Asgardian dishes when you got back to New York, since none of you could decide on where to order from. A flick of a wrist and you were all feasting like royalty.

Your mind acted quickly, finishing the puzzle. 

The moment on the bench.

 Loki flirting with you. The fair. 

“Are you quite parched, Darling?” 

“If you need help…with your distraction…all you have to do is ask,”

"You seem hungry this evening…"

LOKI DID THIS. 

“Loki…,” your voice shaking as you looked him in the eyes. You could see a glimmer of mischief as he watched you put everything together. 

“...you’d didn’t by chance do anything to me…did you?,” you asked, removing his hand off of your thigh as you turned to face him. 

A wry smile slowly spread across his lips, “And why would I do that?”.

He’s testing you, teasing you again. Like he has been for the last few weeks. Ever since you had that fruit he gave you, you’ve been unable to achieve orgasm. 

You stared at him, a storm of emotions swirling in you- anger, violation, and desire. You could feel your heart racing, and you weren’t sure what you’re going to do next, but you knew you needed to leave the room. You suppressed all of your emotions, slowly getting up from the table. 

“Excuse me,” you forced out before quickly leaving your co-workers, trying not to raise suspicion. 

You moved as quickly to the elevators as you could, but Loki was faster. You felt his iron grip around your wrist as he twirled you towards him from behind. 

You instinctively shoved him away, " You ASSHOLE!!"

Your eyes were seeing red from the rage that’s built, your hands shook as you glared at the handsome prince standing in front of you. 

"Tsk tsk, I wouldn't advise you to touch me like that again, unless it were to lead to more romantic intentions," he casually warned you with a slight smile. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?! You POISONED me?! Why did you do this?! Why did you have to torture me?!,” you screamed, not holding back any more. 

Loki reached out and grabbed your arm again, quickly pulling you closer to his body.  He towered above you, his breath skirting your face. His expression was serious now- he was no longer playing.

"I could have easily taken you. Cornered you in any room of this godforsaken tower. Taken you like you so desperately wanted…,” he paused for a moment, and then a slight tug of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

“...but where's the fun in that? I wanted to tease you, make you come to me, begging for release,” Loki had pulled your body closer to his. 

For a moment you felt the heat in your veins shift to lust again. His strong grip on your arms and the intensity between the two of you at its peak clouding your judgment. You found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any kind of regret, or an apology. Nothing. You regained your senses and tried to ignore your lust that was overflowing for this man, despite his cruel actions. 

“Oh like hell, I'm not begging you for shit!,” you insisted, determined not to let the intimacy of the moment take you over. Loki chuckled darkly. 

“You can only find release with me. Nothing- and no one else - will sate you,” he replied matter of fact. His blue eyes were bright as he was clearly enjoying the chaos he had unleashed in your life. 

A wave of hopelessness spread across you, at the mercy of Loki. You thought briefly of how much you lusted after this god, cared about him, only for him to choose this path. He was right, he could’ve easily fucked you any time, any place. But he chose to curse you instead. 

A huge smile spread across his perfect lips revealing his perfect teeth and your anger flared up again. 

“I’m going to smack that grin off of your face, why are you smiling like that??!”, you demanded, desperate for all of this to be over. 

“The spell will only work when the subject- you- has lustful intentions for the creator- me. And I love being right”, his hands dropped down to your hips, pulling your body flush with his. 

“Beg me,” he whispered hoarsely, pushing the hard bulge in his pants against your stomach. You felt your hips instinctively buck against his and you heard yourself whine. Again you suppressed your desire, using all the restraint you had. 

You summoned all of the courage you could, defiantly looking back in his eyes, “No.” 

His eyebrow raised but his knowing smile didn’t change. You wriggled from his grasp, turning from him and quickly walking towards the elevators, not looking back as you stepped in and selected the floor for Wanda’s room.

------

“A curse? Wow, that’s a bit much,” Wanda looked at you confused after you gave her a summary of the last hour of events in her bedroom. 

“I’m just so mad, and annoyed. And to be totally honest, I haven’t come in like a month so I’m trying not to get distracted by my pent up horniness. Can you please remove his spell?,” you implored with a wearied tone. 

You couldn’t tell her that under all of that anger, you were ignited with lust. Loki wanted you, yet had kept you edging for nearly a month. On the precipice. He teased you and taunted you. And all you wanted was release, and now you knew you could only get it from him. Exactly what you had wanted since the day the two of you met. You felt so conflicted, saying no to him in the hallway, while the fire inside you raged for him. You felt yourself starting to panic, pacing in Wanda’s bedroom. 

“Breathe,” Wanda gently held your arms so you were facing her, prompting you to slowly breathe with her. You felt yourself calm a bit after a few moments. 

“Of course I will do anything I can,” she gestured for you to sit on a pillow on the floor while she gathered candles and herbs.  

You sat down and slowly breathed, centering yourself. Wanda created a circle with candles, and sat down across from you on a large fluffy pillow. She set down a small cauldron between the two of you, lighting the herbs sitting inside.

“Okay, I need you to remain calm while I try this, try to clear your thoughts as much as you can”

You groaned and complied, trying to just focus on the moment and the earthy smell wafting through the air, pushing out any thoughts of Loki.

Wanda closed her eyes, concentrating hard as a red aura wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and tried to remain calm. Wanda began chanting in a language you didn’t know, and you continued to clear your mind of any thought just like Dr. Strange had taught you in your meditation lessons. 

“I can’t lift it, I’m sorry,” her sad voice prompted you to open your eyes. Her face was covered with disappointment as she slowly shook her head.

“What? Aren’t you a witch?!”, you heard your voice raised more than you had meant to and immediately felt guilty.  

“He’s way more advanced than I am, he’s got centuries ahead of me. Plus, he's a God. I’m sorry, I can’t,” Wanda reached out and grabbed your hand to soothe you as she could see your mood shift again. 

You huffed in frustration for the millionth time in nearly a month. The reality of everything suddenly came crashing down and you lost it. 

“FUCK!!” you screamed, prompting Vision to appear in the room suddenly, phasing through the wall. You pulled your hand from Wanda, grabbing your head in frustration as your eyes focused on the cauldron on the floor. 

“It’s okay Vis, she’s just frustrated,” Wanda assured Vision, gesturing for him to leave the room.

“What am I gonna do?,” you looked at Wanda, you could feel the tears of aggravation building in your eyes. This all felt so overwhelming. And exciting. It was so confusing, you didn’t know what to feel anymore. 

“Well I think you have to fuck Loki,” Wanda remarked with a smirk, coaxing a small smile from you. 

She’s right, and it’s everything you’ve wanted for months. Reality hits you when you realize Loki is into you. Loki wants you. Desperately. The memory of a few moments ago, when he had his straining cock pushed up against you, passed through your mind again and you felt a wave of heat all over, and your cunt clenched with need. 

“Give me your phone,” Wanda put out her hand, nodding thoughtfully at you. You sighed, unlocked your phone and obliged. Wanda opened your messenger app and began to type. 

“Wait- what are you doing??”

“I’m canceling your plans with Eric,” she looked at you and raised her eyebrows like a big sister who knows best. 

“What! No, why?”, you were trying your best not to get mad at Wanda, she didn’t put you in this position. 

“Loki said Eric can’t make you come, and Loki’s the one you want, anyways! You obviously need to get laid, not to mention this massive crush you have on Loki, too. Now go and get fucked already!,” Wanda enunciated her point as she finished her text to Eric.

You sat, bewildered for a moment about the events that had unfolded. You didn’t even bother to open the texts to see what Wanda had sent Eric. You knew it didn’t matter.

“Thanks Wanda, I think I need to be alone for a few minutes before I do anything. This is all a little much,” you felt the roller coaster of emotions slowing down, and you just needed to recoup and make your plan.

“Of course, but I think we both know where you should go when you leave this room,” she chuckled, escorting you to her door. 

You mustered out a small smirk as your nerves began to set in. You slowly left her room, your mind swirling with the way everything had unfolded. Mindlessly, you entered the elevator and looked at the floor number buttons, not sure which to choose. 

You were mad, but unbelievably turned on. He could’ve just fucked you. Instead, he chose to tease you mercilessly, edging you for nearly a month. You were sopping wet now, unable to ignore the wetness pooling in your panties. You knew that the moment you surrendered yourself to him, it would be erotic bliss like you’ve never experienced. 

What do you do?

Should you go directly to his room and finally succumb to your desires?

Or make him suffer for what he’s put you through?

Give in?

Or torture him like he did to you?

-----

Author's Note:

Pick the chapter based on which decision you want to make :)

Chapter 4- Submission

Chapter 5- Tease

On the Edge Chapter List

[aalissy]

Red String

Anndddd here's the final chapter for today. I hope you like it! It was really fun to mess around writing this AU bc I don't think I've written anything like it before haha. Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

There were days when Marinette positively hated the red string wrapped tightly around her finger. Those were the days when she was forcefully awoken by the slight tugging of her string at 5 in the morning from whatever it was that her soulmate was doing. 

How anyone awake that early could be her soulmate was beyond her. She much preferred her sleep, thank you very much. And, one day, when she met them, she was going to give them a very stern talking to. One about the importance of sleep and the health benefits it provides.

Even still, some days, when Marinette did wake up at an ungodly hour, she would spend that early morning simply staring at it. Watching it twitch and jerk ever so slightly. Knowing that somewhere, some one out there was her soulmate. And, one of these days she was finally going to meet them.

When she made it to high school, she couldn’t help but feel a slight tug of jealousy at how easily Alya and Nino had found each other. Their strings finally met up when Alya first came to the school.

But, most of the time, she was truly happy for her friends. Hopeful that someday she would share the same fortune as them. 

Oftentimes, she and Alya would theorize about just who her soulmate was. Some of the theories were crazy, like her soulmate being someone who had to work early in the morning. Whoever that was, sounded much too old to be Marinette’s soulmate, thank you very much. 

Other times, the theories were more plausible, like her soulmate being from a different timezone. That theory did cause a subtle twinge in her heart. The thought of her soulmate living in a different country made it feel like they would never meet each other.

Today, however, as Alya, Nino, and Marinette slid into their seats at the cafeteria, a different theory arose. One that was certainly inspired by the new superheroes that arrived in Paris. 

Marinette barely managed to hide the small smirk that tugged at her lips as Alya placed her tray down on their table. “I’m just saying, what if your soulmate is Ladybug or Chat Noir? I know those two just have to be up early saving the day.”

It was difficult to bite back her laugh at that. If Alya only knew that she was saying that Marinette could potentially be Marinette’s soulmate. How funny would that be?

Instead of giggling, though, she just shook her head. “It can’t be that, Alya. My string was tugging early in the morning before Ladybug and Chat Noir even existed. I’m certain it’s not one of them.”

Never mind the fact that her string disappeared entirely when she was transformed. It hadn’t been something Marinette had noticed during the first akuma attack, but when she had arrived home, she certainly freaked out at the lack of string tied around her finger. 

She had been sure she had broken something and had detransformed quickly, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief when the red string came back. When she questioned Tikki about it, the small kwami had explained that it was to protect her safety. That holders weren’t meant to be distracted by the tugging and pulling of their strings.

But Marinette couldn’t exactly tell Alya that. 

“Well, there goes that theory then.” Her friend leaned on her fist, blowing out a harsh breath. “I was really hoping you’d be able to score me an interview with one of them.”

She rolled her eyes at Alya affectionately. She had given the girl plenty of interviews as Ladybug. 

“Haven’t you gotten enough interviews from them yet?” Marinette couldn’t help but point out. “I thought you’d be sick of them by now.”

Alya gasped, a hand on her chest in mock offense. “One can never have enough interviews! You take that back!”

Before she could get out much more than a giggle, however, the akuma alarm began to blare around the school. She stood up with a jolt, her chair clattering to the floor. Shooting a quick look at Alya and Nino, Marinette took off ignoring their shouts. 

She dodged and weaved in between her panicked classmates, trying to find somewhere quiet to transform in. Marinette finally found a secluded spot behind the gymnasium, hidden from prying eyes. With a swift motion, she transformed into Ladybug, her red and black suit materializing around her. As she swung into action, the familiar weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders. 

This latest akuma was a disgruntled artist, set on bringing paintings to life. When Chat Noir arrived, the two partners quickly got to work, defeating the latest villain. 

Bumping their fists together in a job well done, Ladybug heard her earrings beep and waved goodbye, wrapping her yo-yo around a rooftop as she tugged herself away. Stopping at an abandoned alley near the school, Ladybug detransformed back into Marinette. 

With a quiet yawn, she fed Tikki a macaroon, stretching her arms above her head. She was positively exhausted. How was she meant to head back to class now? All she wanted to do was go back to bed.

Letting herself rest for just a few more minutes, Marinette fiddled briefly with the red string around her finger. A smile crept across her lips as she watched it slowly begin to twitch and move, grateful that it was back in its proper spot. Looking down at the piece of red fabric, she twirled it around her finger as she made her way out of the alleyway.

So focused on playing with the string, she didn’t notice the person she was heading towards until she had unfortunately crashed into him. She stumbled, almost falling to the floor when a firm grip grabbed her elbow, steadying her. 

Wincing, Marinette rubbed her head as she looked up into a pair of wide, emerald green eyes apologetically. He was cute too! Ruffled blonde hair and peach pink lips. Now she felt even more terrible. “I am so, so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going. So sorry again.”

Turning to leave, she stopped when she felt a harsh tug pull at her string. That was odd. She had never felt something like that before. Frowning down at her string, she jumped when it tugged forcefully once more. What was going on?

“It’s you,” the man breathed behind her. “Oh my god, it’s you.”

Those words had Marinette freezing in place. Slowly turning around, she followed her string with her eyes, feeling her heart begin to race uncontrollably as she noticed it wrapped around the ring finger of the man in front of her. Oh my god, it was him!  

All this time she had spent looking for him and only now did she finally find him. A joyful giddy laugh escaped Marinette’s lips and this time she tugged on the string, watching gleefully as the string also jumped on his finger. She found him! 

Wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug, she whispered, “We have got to talk about your sleep schedule, Mister! You need more sleep.”

A laugh rumbled from deep within his chest and the sound filled her with happiness. Marinette had finally found him! And, from now on, she was never going to let him go again.

[seat-safety-switch]

Most folks have a very limited vision for what they would do if they got a time machine. There’s a lot of cliched answers: kill Hitler. Make a bunch of money on the stock market. Prevent a horrible disaster. Tell my mom to stop antagonizing the beehive that formed under the deck, before they get organized and carry her away into the sky, in a roaring swarm one sleepy September morning. You know, the usual things.

Not me: I’d use a time machine to go back and get jobs at all the important companies. Then I’d photocopy their schematics. You see, if you’re a big company, you make stuff all the time without worrying about whether someone in the future will ever be able to repair it. Certainly, you are not possessed of the ability to predict that folks decades from now will be curious about the inner workings of your product so that they can make it stop being on fire. I would do something about this: namely, steal from work, and then hide the products of those thefts in a safe-deposit box, ready to retrieve them in 2023 when I need that info to fix the broken thing.

Of course, there’s a lot of risks to messing with the time stream like this. As every science-fiction movie teaches us, any change in the past could have unpredictable ramifications in our present. And it’s not just something like “the office ran out of toner early this week, causing the rush-photocopier-toner-delivery truck to crash into a stroller containing the baby who would later grow up to be the president,” although that could probably happen too now that you’re bringing it up.

No, the more likely issue is office politics, and the Protestant work ethic. If someone sufficiently guilt-ridden were to join up with, say, the Isuzu Impulse development team, they would feel bad that they aren’t contributing at the same level as the other engineers. Then they would start to fuck with it, or say crazy shit in meetings, just to feel like they were involved in the project. When they return to their own time, the Isuzu Impulse would be totally different, maybe not nearly as loveable, rendering the entire pursuit into a horrible tragedy.

This theory may actually explain why so many of your coworkers stink on ice – try interrogating some of them about how things turn out in the future, just to be sure. And while you’re at it, start stealing more shit from work and sequestering it away. You never know, someone somewhere may need to figure out what stupid mistakes you’re making right now in order to fix them decades from now. Don’t make them angry enough to go back in time and try to have you killed.